“I am aware of the street, I assure you. This is where I belong. Now if you please, allow me to exit.”
His eyes were wary, but he withdrew his hand and preceded her from the carriage. With a puff of foggy breath, he turned and aided her descent.
The air was crisp, and the hint of rouge to Leo’s cheeks somehow brightened the blue of his irises. She wanted to give him a proper farewell, to kiss him one last time before the carriage clattered away with him inside, but she was not his to kiss.
“Thank you,” she said. “Our challenges notwithstanding, I enjoyed my time with you.”I will miss you.
Leo reached a hand toward her, but with a glance around them swiftly pulled it back. His gaze turned sad, almost imploring. The sight sent a responding ache through her chest.
The silence between them stretched on, and the twinge in her heart spread. It tingled down her arms and quivered in her stomach. Her breaths felt heavy, her shoulders slumping of their own accord. She ought to be pleased that she’d finally reached her destination, but she was having the devil of a time leaving the man who had made her feel so very much.
“I do not wish for you to go,” he said, his voice nearly inaudible over the trundling of a nearby hack and the horse’s hooves.
But she’d heard it. Hadn’t she? Oh goodness, what if it was merely her curst hopeful heart? And dash it, she shouldn’t be hopeful! The man had broken her heart and wanted her only out of a sense of duty. While he was a fine man in many regards, Juliana deserved to be loved by a man she called her own.Forming close attachments is dangerous, and will only hurt you in the end.
He cleared his throat. “I would like to help you, if I can.”
Help. Her stomach sank. Was that another obligation that he felt?
All at once, their unfinished argument at the inn ran through her mind: his dutiful proposal, his desire not to sire a bastard on her, and the pain she’d felt when he’d fled to the taproom. She’d wanted him towanther, just as she now wanted him to help because he could not countenance leaving her.
“You would?”
“As I mentioned, Percy will be in town soon, and two men aiding you and your brother in defence against Miles would be invaluable.”
Her chest—and the hope within it—deflated. “I thank you for your kind offer, but I cannot bear the responsibility of your life being put in further danger. It is too great a risk.”
“I believe that is for me to decide.”
She shook her head. “Miles is not alone. His brother Francis is apparently already here in London, keeping Jasper under close observation.” Her shoulders lifted with her sigh. “It would be prudent for you to return home with Percy. Remain safe.”
His face twisted in a flinch, which he attempted to cover with a short bow. “As you wish.”
Without another word, he retrieved her saddlebags and brought them to the door. “Be careful, Juliana.”
Dipping in a curtsey, she turned and rapped on the door with shaking fingers.
CHAPTER23
Leo took his time getting settled into the carriage, ensuring that Juliana made it safely into the building before he rode away. The young woman at the door seemed genuinely pleased to see her, so he supposed that she was in the correct place.
The door shut with finality, and Leo rapped on the carriage’s ceiling.
Juliana mightn’t wish for him to interfere, but it was inevitable. He couldn’t leave London without first knowing that she was safe from her cousin, couldn’t live with himself if he had another death on his conscience.
The carriage stopped in front of his house, and he alighted, saddlebag slung over one shoulder. He paid the driver and found his way inside, the building cold and filled with linen-covered furniture and art. If it hadn’t been entailed, he would have sold it three years hence, but now he was grateful for the shelter.
If he was to find the Duke of Derby’s home, he’d best make himself presentable. He’d never had to fend for himself, but he managed to fill a pitcher at the water pump in the garden, and he used a cloth to wash himself in the kitchens. The frigid water stole his breath, but he was soon clean and wearing a change of attire.
It had been years since Leo had frequented a club or pub on St. James’ Street, but if he was to learn the duke’s direction, it was a promising place to begin his search.
Misty rain hung in the air and crept beneath his coat, where it seeped into his aching bones. He was grateful for the respite of a hack, and finally the warmth of the club.
“Name, sir,” the doorman inquired.
Leo hesitated. It was the first time since his incarceration that he’d been forced to give his name and title, and it rankled.
“Leonard Notley, the Marquess of Livingston.”
