Her brother’s jaw worked, the muscles bulging as he took in her words. Fury radiated from his every pore.
“I’ve completed my objective,” Leo said softly. “Juliana is safe, and you’re aware of the threat. I will take my leave of you now.”
Jasper put out a hand to halt Leo’s movement. “You’ll go nowhere until you’ve done right by my sister. As much as I despise the thought of her being associated with your reputation, you impugn her honour by not offering your hand.”
“I have already offered it.” Leo’s voice had grown hoarse, his lips thinned. “She refused me.”
“You didwhat?” Jasper whirled on her. “You cannot refuse to marry everyone, Juliana! And you most certainly cannot become a runner for sodding Bow Street. You’ll marry the viscount, and I’ll not hear another word on the matter.”
The argument that she was no longer in possession of her maidenhead was on the fringes of her lips, but she refused to throw what she and Leo had shared into the light. And certainly not as a weapon against her brother. It would be turned around on Leo, and that, she could not abide.
It was rather strange that even though her feelings about Leo were conflicted, just one glimpse of his uncertainty and discomfort, and Juliana was possessed of an intense urge to comfort and soothe him.
“Your Grace.” Leo sketched a short bow then strode toward Juliana, his gaze haunted. “I wish you good fortune and joy.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could utter a sound, he gave another swift bow and left on a cloud of shaving soap and cinnamon. Intense longing pulled at Juliana’s chest as she watched him walk away. Would he turn if she called out to him? Very likely. But she must force the urge aside. Only after she had completed the task of interviewing her brother would she permit herself the time to seek Leo out and discuss her bewildering feelings of loss and betrayal.
Lord, but she could not make sense of it all. It bore considering, but not now.Later, she promised herself.
Settling the portable writing desk on her lap and dipping her pen in the ink, she gazed determinedly at her brother. “How long have you known about the threat against us?”
Jasper paled, and his eyes narrowed. “Why must you insist on defying me?”
Indignation speared Juliana’s chest even while nerves twisted inside her. Her fingertips found the decorative side of the inkpot on her lap desk, and she traced the leafed pattern.
“You flee the estate,” Jasper continued, pacing before her, “abandoning the marriage that I had arranged to protect you. You travel alone with a man whom you do not know, and whose reputation is abhorrent.” He placed his hands upon his hips. “Only to take a position as a sodding runner—all while damaging our family name!” He stopped his pacing and spun to face her, his features heated with distaste and disappointment. “How in the bloody hellcouldyou?”
That look hurt far more than Juliana wished to admit. She steeled herself against the pain and focused once more on her task. In her position, she would undoubtedly encounter difficult individuals. This was a test, after all, and who better to test her than someone with whom she shared history?
“Your pardon, brother, but how in the hell couldyou? You have the title and dominance, but you withheld information from me; you drove me to flee our home! Leo saved me.”
Jasper’s eyes flashed with irate suspicion at the use of Leo’s given name, but she powered on.
“Now.” She calmed her voice and took a deep breath. “How long have you known about Francis and Miles’ desire for the dukedom? What are their habits? Do you know of any hobbies or societal interests? What drives them, aside from the death of Jean and their desire for wealth and status?”
“I’ll not encourage this!” Jasper burst out, his red face a mask of fury. “Think you that I have not considered these questions? That I have not discussed them with my own men? That I am not searching for them myself? You believe me a simpleton, Juliana? Do you believe that I am merely sitting back and awaiting their attacks like a bumbling—”
“Of course not!” She set aside the writing desk and stood to face her brother. “I trust that you—”
“Trust,” he spat. “You do not trust a soul, so fearful that everyone is the same as our father. You could not even trustmein my decision to arrange your marriage.”
She gritted her teeth, her chest tight with fresh pain. “The viscount is an old man, Jasper!”
“And ill!” he returned on a shout. “The man has mere months left to live—and estates throughout England, Scotland, and France; an arsenal of staff; a title; and wealth to keep you happy for years to come. I selected him for you precisely because he would protect you and not emotionally imprison you. I was trying to give you your bloody freedom!”
Like a wave of tiny pin prickles, Juliana could feel the blood drain from her face as she stared in shock at her brother. Could it be true? Had he actually considered her feelings before arranging her marriage? The hurt and indignation on his features told her that he had, indeed. But why hadn’t he told her? Would she have listened?
Shame washed over her. She’d been wrong, so very wrong about everything.
All this time, she’d thought that Jasper had betrayed her, had tried to force her into a lasting marriage with a doddering old fool. And while she’d had reason to believe that, it hadn’t been true. What if she had remained at his side and discussed her circumstance with him? Would she still have absconded as she had?Indeed. She’d made the right decision in reaching out to Grace, but the way she’d left home had been wrong.
What impact would her actions now have on Jasper? He was a duke, so any gossip or cruelty would pass swiftly and thehaut tonwould soon forget everything. But what of his heart? Wouldherecover fromherbetrayal?
Dismay spread from her core out to her limbs.
Did she knowanythingbased on fact, or had she assumed everything for years? And what of Leo and her new position on Bow Street? Had she made assumptions that led her there, as well? Had Leo actually proposed because he felt duty-bound to protect her reputation and not sire a bastard?
A sickening wobble filled her stomach, sending a ripple of anxiousness through her limbs. Her fingers trembled as she brushed a stray ringlet off her forehead, and she swiftly clasped her hands in the folds of her skirts.
