And that terrified her most of all.
After Sarah’s efforts, Brandon Carlisle, the Earl of Strathland, had managed to attend Lady Rumford’s soirée as his sister’s escort. He had arrived early, and he’d spent the first hour dispelling rumors spread by Lady Arnsbury. He’d charmed his hostess and made it known that he was seeking a wife.
He’d dropped enough hints about his wealth that the matrons were circling like vultures, ready to offer up their young. He smiled warmly at them, enjoying their daughters’ coy glances from behind their fans. He granted a few of them his attentions, while awaiting the arrival of the Countess of Arnsbury and the girls. Though he would not say anything against Lady Arnsbury, she would regret using her influence to cast aspersions upon him.
He was well aware that Juliette loathed the sight of him. It made no difference at all. He had enjoyed seeing the flash of anger on her face, followed by the fear, when he’d seen her out walking earlier today. Perhaps she’d thought he would abandon his efforts. Not at all. Brandon reveled in a game of cat and mouse. He’d given Juliette time enough to believe herself safe. But he wasn’t at all averse to spreading a bit of gossip to get what he wanted.
If he let it be known that she had given herself to him, no titled gentleman in London would have her. He had every intention of doing whatever was necessary to gain her as his wife.
The first to enter the ballroom was Miss Margaret Andrews, the eldest unwed daughter. She put on a bright smile and eyed the room with all the subtlety of a predator. Despite her dowry, her prim manner had put off most of the eligible bachelors, including himself.
Next came Miss Amelia Andrews, the youngest. Brandon crossed his arms, considering her as a possibility. Though her incessant chatter drove him mad, she could be used as leverage. Juliette would do anything to protect a family member.
A surge of satisfaction came over him when he saw that Juliette had arrived after all. She wore a demure gown of cream satin, trimmed with a sapphire ribbon. Her hair was tucked away in a simple chignon, and she wore no jewels of any kind. There was a flush in her cheeks, and she braved the room, greeting other women and smiling.
It was good to see her in a better humor than she’d presented in the past. He slid behind a small crowd of people, watching her surreptitiously. She trailed behind her sisters, but not once did she glance at the gentlemen. That pleased him, and he made his way closer to her.
When she stood with her back to him, speaking to other young women, he moved into position. He remained patient until her conversation ended and the ladies went to speak to someone else. Before Juliette could join them, he interrupted, “Might I have the pleasure of a dance, Miss Andrews?”
She spun, her face appalled. It took a moment for her to gather her thoughts, but she shook her head. “No, Lord Strathland. I would rather not.”
Her refusal didn’t deter him a whit. “Or I could ask your younger sister, Miss Amelia Andrews?” he suggested. “She looks as fresh and innocent as you used to be.”
Thatearned him a reaction, and anger flashed in her eyes. “Leave Amelia alone.”
“Your sister does not hold the same hatred as you,” he remarked. “She would dance with any man here and not care.”
“Icare.”
“Then dance with me. If you do, I promise I’ll leave her alone.”
She glared at him. “I’d rather dance with the devil than spend any time in your presence.”
He sent her a thin smile. “I may be a devil in your eyes, Miss Andrews, but I have fond memories of you.” From the way she blanched, she knew precisely what he was talking about.
Fond memories indeed, especially when he’d taken her virginity. Just thinking of holding her down aroused him more.
Lowering his voice, he added, “No one knows of your secret scandal, do they? What do you think it would do to your sisters’ marital hopes if I were to let out the rumors?”
Her gaze turned murderous. “Do not dare to impugn my sisters with your malicious talk.”
“Then do as I’ve asked, and accept a dance from me.” He held out a hand, relishing the victory when she placed her gloved palm within his. “We will talk about how you’re going to protect them.”
He had her then. In her eyes, he could see the glimpse of fear, not for herself but for Amelia and Margaret. She held no qualms about refusing him, but she would do anything to guard her sisters.
The next dance was a country dance, and as he lined up across from her, he remarked, “You look beautiful, as always, Miss Andrews.”
She gave no answer at all, but stared at the wall behind him. When he held her hand and turned her around, she whispered, “Why won’t you leave me alone, Lord Strathland?”
“Because I wish to marry you.” He relished the idea of having her in his bed every night, particularly if she fought him.
“I would not marry you if you were the last man on earth.”
“I don’t like being refused,” he said. “Especially from a chit who doesn’t know what she’s turning down. Surely you must know how well I could provide for you. You would have everything you’d ever want. I would give you dozens of children.”
Something in her expression shifted, but she masked it. “Never.”
There was something beyond dislike in her words, a hatred that went bone-deep. Without another word, she left him standing there, publicly showing the room what she thought of him.
