Page 89 of After the Abduction

Uncle Lew slumped in obvious relief. “Thank God.”

“What? A week ago you were convinced that I should tell Knighton the truth.”

“A week ago you were not testing dueling pistols with the intention of using them.” He gazed earnestly at Sebastian. “I worry about Morgan, of course, but I worry more about you. This gossip will incense Knighton. He will want your blood. So as much as I should like to see you and Lady Juliet marry, I think it best for you to wait to tell her family the truth, at least until you see if you can stem the rumors.”

He couldn’t help but be amused by his uncle’s concern. “Don’t worry. I’ll act with my usual caution.”

“I am not even sure you ought to go to London at all,” his uncle said anxiously.

“I promised her I wouldn’t let the gossip ruin her life. I owe her at least that much.”

That was the only reason he was hurrying off to London. It had nothing to do with the new emptiness of Charnwood Hall or how he missed having embroidery needles pop up where he least expected them. It was certainly not because he ached to see her and hold her again, to reassure himself that she still cared for him.

“I suppose you are right.” With alarming solemnity, Uncle Lew stood and set his shoulders. “Very well, I will see to matters here at Charnwood while you are gone. You can count on me.”

“To drain my store of good brandy and borrow all my cravats, perhaps,” Sebastian joked. “But the thought of you managing my estate sends a chill through me, Uncle. So I beg of you to leave that to my steward.”

Fortunately that put the twinkle back in his uncle’s eyes. “Oh, go on and run off to London then, you ungrateful scamp, before I decide to thrash the insolence out of you.”

“As if you could.” With a grin, Sebastian turned toward the side door.

“Sebastian?” his uncle said.

“Yes?”

“Be careful. I should not like to have to claim your body the way I claimed your father’s.”

He managed a reassuring smile. “Don’t be absurd. I’m not foolish enough to get myself killed. Besides, I’m a crack shot, remember?”

“So was your father.”

With that sobering reminder ringing in his ears, Sebastian left.

Chapter 20

London

Reputation is often got without merit and lost without fault.

English proverb written on a list once mounted on the Templemore schoolroom wall

Juliet sighed when she entered Lord Feathering’s palatial mansion for her first ball since her return.

It wasn’t that she disliked balls. She’d always enjoyed the dancing part, if she could find a partner who didn’t tromp on the slippers she’d embroidered herself. And she did like seeing how a hostess transformed the ordinary into the sublime with a sprig of laurel here and a whimsical paper lantern there. She even relished the insistent buzz of conversation overlaying every event like a chorus of crickets.

But only when it didn’t concern her. And that seemed to be the only topic of conversation since her return three days ago. Her dreadful fall from grace. Apparently, two weeks away from the city had been just enough time to let the gossip take hold and spread like a noxious weed.

Yet she refused to stop attending social affairs until the invitations, most of which had been issued and accepted long ago, petered out. It didn’t matter how much Griff and Rosalind protested. It didn’t matter that last night’s dinner party at Lady Ipswich’s had been utter disaster—a gauntlet of whispers and snide remarks and lewd advances that had nearly brought her to tears.

None of it dissuaded her from attending. Because if these small-minded prattlers thought to drive her from society with their vile contempt, they were in for a surprise. She intended to brazen it out. Hiding from the gossip would merely convince them of its veracity; she could only squelch it by appearing in public and acting as if it were all nonsense.

Fortunately, she’d become quite good at acting, thanks to her time spent trying to unmask Sebastian.

Sebastian. Who’d sworn to put an end to the gossip, then abandoned her as usual. Who’d made love to her with sweet excess, then coolly refused to speak the truth to her family, even when it meant her going off to London without him.

She blinked back tears for at least the fiftieth time since she’d left Shropshire. Drat that wretch! She wouldn’t think about him tonight. Everything was awful enough as it was.

With Rosalind and Griff at her side, she walked into the ballroom with head held high. Lady Merrington gave her the cut direct, and she didn’t flinch. Juliet didn’t like the fussy old marchioness anyway.