Only Marriage Will Do. Jenna Jaxon

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СКАЧАТЬ throw herself from the roof of Dunham House. She had set her course, with or without the captain. “Glynis and I will leave today, as soon as we have taken you—oh I beg your pardon, but I don’t know where you live.”

      “My father’s house in Kensington Gardens. Number twenty-three.” His lips twitched.

      She knocked on the trap door and changed their direction immediately. She did not wish to worry this kind, valiant man, but she had made her mind up and she doubted she could convince him to accompany her. She chided herself for even having such a foolish notion. A passing fancy only, brought on, perhaps, by the stress of the situation this morning. After all, she had just met this man. She knew absolutely nothing about him or his family.

      “Lady Juliet, you cannot attempt such a journey without protection.” He gripped his sword hilt and released it. “Have you no male relative who might accompany you?”

      “I am afraid not, Captain Dawson.” Her heart twisted at his concern. “Duncan is the last of the male line. There is no longer even a male cousin amongst our relatives on either side.” She placed a comforting hand on his. “I will be all right, don’t you think? I will have Glynis and the coachman and stable boy. I doubt I will come to grief.” She smiled, though her heart beat alarmingly fast. Only some few minutes left with him. They turned the corner into Kensington.

      Ignoring the fact he too gazed at her, she memorized his wide, thoughtful brow and bright blue eyes. His full-lipped, sensual mouth she longed to feel on hers even now. That was not to be, alas. She would probably never see him again.

      The carriage pulled up in front of a palatial redbrick house with meticulously kept grounds. He lived here? On a captain’s pay? Not a chance. “Who is your father, Captain Dawson?”

      “Lord Morley, my lady. Unfortunately, he is not in residence at this time.”

      A baron’s son? How bizarre. Not just any baron, either. Morley had a reputation for extreme wealth but a reclusive nature. Rather a mystery in her circles. She did not recall any gossip about his son returning from the colonies. Perhaps that had been a recent development. And why did Amiable have a different family name? Most puzzling. Now she would probably never know.

      Amiable had opened his mouth, but when the boy held the door for him, he gave her one intense look, stepped down, and turned to her. “Are you quite sure I cannot dissuade you, Lady Juliet, from this hasty course?” He flexed and released the hand resting on the carriage door. “Would you not rather return to your brother’s house and consider all your options? Going into battle, I have found one must reflect on every detail of each possible alternative, lest in the end you come to grief.” His kind blue eyes searched hers. “Please tell me you will reconsider.”

      “Believe me I understand your fears for me, Captain. But I know, deep down, that this journey is right. Aren’t you supposed to listen when your heart tells you something is right?” Her heart lurched at her real meaning. The sincere smile she gave him was the easiest and hardest thing she had ever done. Let him remember her as gracious and strong.

      “I suppose you are.” He returned her smile, though with less enthusiasm. “I take my leave of you, then, my lady.” He bowed. “I hope circumstances permit that we may meet again. Until then I wish you a safe journey and a pleasant stay in the north.”

      “Thank you, Captain. I hope the same for you here in London. Farewell.” No longer able to attempt a smile and afraid to let her dismay be seen, she drew back on the seat.

      The coach jerked into motion. He headed toward the steps to the portico and was lost to her sight.

      She settled in the seat, and blinked back tears she refused to shed. Resolute, she wanted to plan for her journey. However, a number of problems quickly emerged. Although determined to set out for Cumberland immediately, she and Glynis alone had packed for a journey of more than a day. If she wanted to disappear into the north, Roberts and George could not return home to gather their things. Such an action would certainly cause talk among the servants.

      Money presented another problem, though to a lesser extent. Because she had intended to shop with Honoria, she had taken a fair amount with her. It would serve until she arrived in Cumbria. Once there, she’d need little money to sustain her until she returned to London.

      Perhaps when she came back at Christmas she could renew her acquaintance with Captain Dawson. Quite unlikely. By then someone else would surely have attracted his attention. She could do nothing else about Amiable, so she turned her full attention to her escape from Philippe. How had she ever found that man attractive?

      Chills, like a goose walking over her grave, sped down her arms. No one must know where she had gone. Not even Honoria or Aunt Phoebe. As silver-tongued as Philippe could be, she had no doubt they would be susceptible and easily persuaded to betray her whereabouts “for her own good.” If he found her alone, either on the road or at the Keep, she could do little to stop him from forcing himself on her in the name of their “marriage.” The scene in her bedroom at the French Ambassador’s party rose before her: his smooth hands fondling her, her pleas for him to stop, and the gag that silenced them. She fought down her rising gorge. Nothing could induce her to submit herself to him. Not even marriage.

      While she had been deep in thought, Roberts, the coachman, had circled back, and headed again for Beaumont Crescent and Honoria’s home. She tapped on the trap.

      Roberts opened it. Calm and broad-faced, he awaited instructions. The world could go to hell in a handbasket but Roberts would be sturdy and unruffled.

      “Roberts, we have had a change in course. We will go north to Lord Dalbury’s estate in Cumberland but I need to make you and George privy to my plans. Can we head outside the city and stop at an inn to talk, do you think?” She wouldn’t feel safe from Philippe until she’d left London behind her. They could sort out their travel problems then.

      “Aye, my lady.” Roberts bobbed his head. “I knows just the place, The Blue Bull right outside the city. Will that suit, milady?”

      “Yes, thank you, Roberts.” Juliet leaned back and closed her eyes, at last ready to make plans.

      Chapter 4

      Resisting the urge to turn and stare after Lady Juliet’s retreating carriage, Amiable entered Morehouse. The woman would be fine. He handed his sword to the butler, Mortimer, and continued on to the small parlor he preferred to use for business. The morning’s post included an invitation to dine with his sister Verity, Lady Ayrdmore, and another to an end of season house party at Braetons’ country estate in Kent. He would send regrets to both. He should see Vee, but he didn’t feel up to it. The Braetons would understand he still mourned his brother, even if he didn’t wear the black armband. Of course, the death had occurred almost six months before. Poor Pax.

      Amiable sat heavily on the Queen Anne chaise, the focal point of the room. The blue and cream appointments reminded him keenly of his mother, receiving visitors, sipping tea, always gracious. All the rooms, in fact, spoke of his mother’s impeccable taste that had drawn beauty from simple things. Her death six years ago was another hurt scarcely bandaged. The most recent blow to his heart, however, took precedence today.

      He’d been in love with Katarina Fitzwilliam for several years, despite her youth. He had fenced with her, ridden with her, squired her to the local entertainments in Williamsburg’s provincial society during her last year in Virginia, and had finally asked her to marry him after her father’s death. Her stricken eyes and sudden tension had smote him even before her verbal refusal assailed his ear. He didn’t care that she СКАЧАТЬ