Page 60 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
“I’m quite well as I am, thank you,” Juliet said distractedly, scarcely glancing in Meg’s direction. She looked that way enough to see Meg was fidgeting constantly. It seemed to be an infernal habit of hers these days, something she never used to do, but ever since coming to the Duke of Darby’s house, she could not stop doing it.
The only thing that made Juliet pause in her pacing was the sound of paper crumpling. She looked to the door, searching out the source of the sound, when she saw a slip of folded paper being pushed under the door. Hurrying towards it, she snapped it up, and rather than opening it straight away, she flung open the door.
The sound of hurried footsteps followed, and she craned her neck out of the room to see the tall figure of Edward just disappearing around a corner in the corridor.
Something leapt in Juliet’s stomach. Was it hope? Fear? She could hardly make sense of it anymore! All she knew was that her chest ached to see him again. She closed her eyes, thinking of the moment they had made love in the garden when her entire being had been wrapped up in Edward. She could remember with perfect precision the moment she had reached her pinnacle and he had bent down and kissed her in the softest of ways.
For that single moment, she had persuaded herself into believing he felt something more than an attraction for her.
“What is it, My Lady?” Meg called to her.
“Nothing,” Juliet lied, closing the door again and opening the letter.
Meet me by the statue of Venus again after breakfast. Let us take a walk. There is something I need to speak to you about.
That ache came again. Was this when he would be telling her their meetings had to come to an end?
“I pray not,” she whispered.
“It is time, My Lady,” Meg called from her place across the room as she fluffed the bed pillows.
“What?”
“You can go downstairs if you wish to know.” Meg nodded at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Breakfast will be being served.”
“Thank you.” Juliet thrust the letter into a secret pocket within the skirt of her gown and hurried out. She tried her best not to run to breakfast, but more than once, she had to urge her body to walk at a much slower pace. As she walked down the stairs, noises from the entrance hall greeted her.
“Quick, quick, do come in. Oh, you must have been travelling all night. You will be starved.” The Duchess of Darby was greeting someone with great excitement as bags and trunks were heaved into the house by footmen. So many trunks were brought in that Juliet started to hover on the bottom of the staircase.
She knew one man who carried so many bags wherever he went. Known to be something of a dandy, with excessive lace cuffs and rather a lot of embroidery in his clothes, her cousin Arthur was never seen without a whole wardrobe to accompany him.
“You are most kind for such a warm welcome,” Arthur’s simpering voice sounded.
Juliet tried to dart off towards the dining room as quickly as she could, but long before she reached the door, she had been seen.
“Ah, Juliet!” he called to her.
Juliet winced, then formed her expression into a polite smile and turned around to face the party in the entrance hall. Beside the Duchess of Darby stood Arthur and Robert, having just greeted one another.
Arthur hurried towards Juliet, no bothering to bow but clasping her hand to take hold of it swiftly.
“Oh,” Juliet murmured in surprise at the eagerness. “It is good to see you, Arthur. How are you?” she asked politely.
“All the better for seeing you.” He smiled fully with the movement, making his pale skin, thin and dry, like cracked paper, wrinkle around his lips. His blond hair, so pale it was almost white, had been scraped back against his temple, lined with wax so thick she could practically see it beading in his hair in great globules. “I hope you will do me the pleasure of introducing me to many of your acquaintances here today.”
“That task is surely for our hostess,” Juliet spoke tightly, turning to nod at the Duchess of Darby, who was following them into the dining room. Juliet at last succeeded in pulling her hand out of his and moving to a chair.
The Duchess of Darby introduced Arthur to all their guests, though Juliet paid particular attention when Arthur was introduced to the Duke of Lantham and his family. As she had suspected, his greeting was rather chilly, for he plainly knew the history between the families.
The end of the breakfast did not come quickly enough, and as soon as Juliet saw Edward leave the room, she sought to follow him. Glad to have escaped Arthur’s attention for a few minutes, she pulled on a spencer jacket and a bonnet in the hallway and then practically ran outside.
She had made it to the other side of the lawn when a voice called to her that made her blood run cold.
“Cousin? Dear Juliet?” Arthur called.
She halted, turning with her hands balled into fists.
“You are going for a walk?” he said pointlessly, for it was plainly what she was doing already. “Let me accompany you,” he pleaded, his pale pallor still not reddened even as he hurried to catch up with her in the garden.
