Eleven Scandals to Start to Win a Duke's Heart
Page 68

No longer, thought Juliana as she looked up at the massive guard with whom she had been left. These gentlemen seem ready to take on anything that comes their way.
She could not deny that there was something comforting in knowing that once inside the confines of the Park, she would be protected from the world beyond its borders.
She kicked a stone, watching it disappear into the rushes that grew along the side of the drive, golden with the glow of the afternoon sun.
Perhaps she’d never leave.
She wondered if anyone would even notice.
Wondered if Simon would notice.
She knew better than to think about him—about the last time she had seen him, just over a week ago, looking every inch the happy bridegroom. But she couldn’t help it. She’d spent five long days in the carriage from London, with little to do but play Briscola with Carla and think about him . . . and the way he touched her . . . the way he spoke her name . . . the way his gaze heated when he looked at her, until his eyes turned the color of honey straight from the comb.
She took a deep breath.
He was not for her.
And it was time she realized it and put him out of her mind.
By the time she returned to London, he would be married. And she would have no choice but to pretend their clandestine meetings had never happened. No choice but to play as though she and the Duke of Leighton had nothing more than a passing acquaintance.
That she did not know the way his voice deepened to velvet just before he kissed her.
She sighed and turned back to the house, to see her brother, high upon a horse, wide grin on his face, galloping toward her.
Meeting his smile with one of her own, she waved and called out to him. “My most handsome brother!”
He was off his horse before it stopped, scooping her into an exuberant hug, laughter in his voice. “I shall tell Gabriel you said so, you know.”
She waved one hand as he set her on her feet. “As though it would be a surprise! He pales dreadfully in comparison. I am still not certain that you are twins at all.”
Gabriel and Nick were identical in every way save one—a dreadful scar that curved down the side of Nick’s face, narrowly missing his eye. The scar did nothing to mar his handsomeness, however; instead giving his open, friendly countenance a hint of mystery that drew women like moths to flame.
He nodded his thanks to the guard at the gate, then indicated the carriage. “Shall we get you to the house?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Must I return to my prison? Can’t we walk instead?”
Waving the carriage past, he took up the reins of his horse and they began the half-mile walk to the manor house. Nick asked a handful of polite questions about her journey before Juliana stopped him with, “I assume you have heard the news.”
He nodded, lips set in a firm line. “Gabriel sent a messenger the evening she arrived.” He paused. “How is she?”
“The same.”
They walked for a moment in silence before he asked, “And how are you?”
She looked down at her feet, watching the tips of her boots peep out from beneath the hem of her wine-colored traveling cloak. “I am . . .” She turned to him, taking in his clear blue gaze, filled with interest and not a little concern, and then past him to the wide-open heath that stretched for miles in every direction. “I am happy to be here,” she said. And it was the truth.
He smiled, offering her an arm, which she took with pleasure. Nick had always been the easier of her brothers—where Gabriel’s temper ran hot, Nick was patient and understanding. He would not press her to discuss their mother, or anything else. But he would listen when she was ready to talk.
She was not ready.
Not yet.
“And how are things here?” she said, changing the subject. “You so rarely write, I sometimes think I do not have a middle brother.”
He gave a little laugh. “Wild and well, as usual. We’ve had three new girls in the past month . . . four if you count the baby that arrived ten days ago.”
Her eyes widened. “Baby?”
“One of the girls . . .” He trailed off.
He did not have to finish the sentence. The tale was an old one. One of the girls had made a mistake and found herself unmarried and with child. Perhaps a month ago, Juliana would not have considered such a circumstance to be the product of ignorance or irresponsibility. But now . . .
Now, she knew too well how tempting men could be.
“At any rate, Isabel is working too hard.” Nick interrupted her thoughts.
She smiled. “Isabel always works too hard.”
“Yes, but now that she carries my child, I prefer to see her in bed eating biscuits. Perhaps you could nudge her in that direction.”
Juliana laughed. Isabel was nearly as susceptible to nudging as one of the marble statues she loved so much. His smile turned soft at the laughter, and Juliana felt a pang of envy at the emotion she saw there.
“I see you think that an unreasonable request.”
“Not unreasonable. Merely doomed to remain unfulfilled.”
He barked his laughter as the object of their conversation came into view on the top steps of the manor house. Juliana waved to her sister-in-law, who returned the greeting and started down the steps toward them.
Juliana ran to meet Isabel, and the two embraced warmly before holding each other at arm’s length for inspection.
“How is it that you have been traveling for five days and still look beautiful?” Isabel teased. “I can barely get down the stairs in the morning without ruining a gown!”
Juliana grinned at her sister-in-law, now five months pregnant and happily glowing. “Nonsense. You are gorgeous!” Juliana said, holding Isabel at arm’s length and taking in the gentle swell of her abdomen. “And how lucky am I that I shall soon have two lovely nieces to indulge!”