Margaret nodded and murmured her own greeting, but she was kind enough to slow her pace, walking behind them. Paul gave Juliette his arm, and she took it.
“You look well,” she said.
“No’ like a puir Highlander?” he teased. “I’ve taken to wearing my finer clothes so they willna throw me out of London.”
Her face flushed, and she admitted, “They suit you. I would never have known you weren’t part of the gentry.”
One day I will be,he thought to himself. That is, if he remained Donald’s heir. Though he hadn’t minded revealing his future title to the ton, he knew Juliette didn’t believe him. She believed he was taking a risk, lying to everyone. But if he ever lost the inheritance, he would feel like an even greater fool.
“Tell me what happened with the duchess,” he said.
Juliette’s mouth parted in a slight smile, and she said, “I learned that Mr. Sinclair and the duke saved Victoria. She’s well, and so is her unborn baby.” She went on to tell him all the details about the carriage accident and how the duke had ridden for hours to find her. But Paul barely heard a word of it. His eyes were locked on to her features, with her golden brown hair tucked inside a rose-colored bonnet. She wore a gown of the same color with a matching spencer.
He studied her soft mouth, and after a few moments longer, she murmured, “You’re staring at me.”
“I ken that, aye. You’ve a bonny face to look upon.”
She looked down at the gravel, but she moved her hand from the crook of his arm to lace her gloved fingers in his. Though she studied the reflection on the waters of the Serpentine, she admitted, “Your face has always been handsome to me, too.”
“Your sister is watching us. I can feel her glaring at me. ’Tis a wonder my coat hasn’t caught afire.”
“She’s likely afraid that you’re going to ruin me by holding my hand.”
Though her words were spoken in jest, he caught the undercurrent of irony beneath them. His thumb edged at her palm, stroking it lightly. “I am weary of having naught but a single dance with you, Juliette. We used to spend hours walking through the glen.”
“I remember.” She glanced behind them at Margaret. “But there are no glens here.”
No, but he had another idea in mind. “Find a way to leave your aunt’s house tomorrow evening. There’s acèilidha friend of mine is hosting. We could go together, if you’re wanting to spend some time with me.”
She hesitated. “I would like to, but I’m not certain how I’d manage it.”
“There willna be anyone who’d ken who we are,” he promised. “Wear a gown that a merchant’s wife might choose. For one night, you can pretend to be a wife instead of a miss.”
She seemed to think it over. Keeping her voice low, she offered, “It sounds like a place that Margaret would loathe.” Then her eyes gleamed with excitement. “I can’t wait.”
“Whatwere you thinking?”
Brandon Carlisle, the Earl of Strathland, ignored his sister’s shrewish outburst. Sarah had no concept of what he’d been trying to accomplish.
“You tried to kidnap a duchess,” she accused. “Why would you ever consider such a thing?”
His sister behaved as if he were a common criminal, when his actions had never been about harming the young woman. Her Grace was a bargaining piece, a pawn in a game where he intended to control the board.
He wanted the lands—not only his former property of Eiloch Hill where the duke now resided, but also the Lanfordshire estate. He intended to gain possession of the entire region, no matter what the means.
“My factor, Mr. Melford, took matters too far,” he corrected, cutting her off. “As far as anyone knows, he acted of his own accord, thinking he could ransom the duchess. And he died for it.”
The loss of his overseer was an annoyance, but there were other men who could take his place. For now, Brandon knew he had to lie low, in order to keep the blame firmly pointed toward the dead man. He’d left Scotland and had traveled to their family’s town house in London. His original plan had failed, and it was time to reconsider his next move.
“Don’t you realize that your scheming could have ruined us both?” she accused. Her voice was like shards of broken glass, irritating his mood until he wished he could be rid of her. But then, Sarah had to live somewhere, and he wasn’t about to bring her into his home in Scotland. There, he was a king in his vast estate, while here, the house was a modest dwelling that boasted only a dozen rooms and four servants. It wasn’t nearly enough for him.
“I believe you already ruined yourself, dear sister.” Brandon took a sip of brandy, his gaze fixed upon the fire. “When you threw yourself at that earl who refused to wed you. My actions have little bearing on you.”
Sarah wasn’t an attractive woman, and she’d tried everything to land a husband. But although she’d been caught alone with an earl, he’d refused to offer for her. According to Sarah, the man had done nothing to compromise her, but no one would believe the story. Now, she rarely showed her face in society and hardly ever attended assemblies or balls.
That needed to change. Brandon would use her to help open doors to him, in order to get closer to Lady Lanfordshire’s daughters.
“I intend to stay in London for the next few months,” he informed her.
