Playful banter evaporated in the face of such earnestness and all I could do was nod. Hugh chose that moment to let out a shamefully loud snore, startling us both and waking Kate. Juliet’s spine stiffened ramrod straight, and she froze at the sound. Her eyes wide and unblinking on Hugh’s form.
Her response would have been appropriate if my lips had found their way under her chemise as they had in my dreams or if we were digging a grave for a victim of murder. It was a substantial overreaction to my brother, a man who could not actually remember her name, possibly waking. Particularly while we did nothing more incriminating than speak across a carriage—a discussion that consisted entirely of thinly veiled implications about novels.
Not for the first time, I wondered at her life under Dalton. Wondered and seethed. What had he done to this beautiful, witty, passionate woman to make her scared of her own shadow? Would she help me bury the body if I killed him for it? She had practice reacting if we were caught mid-shovel.
Kate watched her worriedly, only calming once she turned back to her novel. Her face was buried so far in the book I knew she would not come up for air again, not to speak with me anyway. Gone was the expressive reading, the wide-eyed gasps and eager page-turning. Instead, the dead-eyed, placid smile returned, spine straight, each page flipped with precise calm. Resigned, I turned back to my own reading. My attention, even more frayed, remained across the carriage with the shell of the woman left behind.
Twelve
THORNTON HALL, KENT - APRIL 2, 1814
MICHAEL
A stilted supperfollowed our arrival at Thornton Hall. After which, Kate all but kidnapped Juliet. They flitted off to do whatever it is ladies did, and Hugh and I were left to our own devices. I carried the resultant tension through to bed. Four courses of studiously even-tempered remarks from Lady Juliet had me straining to remember my place. It took all my fortitude to refrain from needling her, shaking her, kissing her—anything for a reaction.
Something about Juliet—Lady Juliet, always Lady Juliet—set my nerves aflame. Her proximity proved too great a temptation to allow for sleep. I abandoned the comfort of my bed, just down the hall from hers, in favor of the study some time ago.
Several hours spent in review of the ledgers showed the extent of Hugh’s neglect. Even the many hours weren’t enough to sort out the mess he had here. Whatever his organizational system, it was indecipherable to all but him. Desire to press him on the issue warred with the understanding that the finances were no longer my concern. No matter the responsibility I felt toward the servants and tenants. Still, I could not be faulted for visiting with them; we were friends, after all. I doubted Hugh would see it that way, but I was simultaneously too tired and edgy to care overly much. Particularly after his loud nasal passage ruined my progress in the carriage with Juliet—Lady Juliet. Not that there was anything to progress toward, because there wasn’t.
* * *
When I broke my fast,it was much too early for Hugh and Kate to be about. The morning sun streamed through the windows, the April chill receding with its light. Clearly, Kate hadn’t had the opportunity to work her magic on this room. It still bore the ostentatious gold and navy markers of Agatha. The mahogany table remained obsessively long, plenty to seat at least ten. The entire situation was far too extravagant for a breakfast parlor.
The hearty scents of eggs, cold ham on the sideboard, and tea awaited. Along with fresh toast and butter, my plate was laden with delights. Even this simple fare was a treat in Mrs. Hudson’s hands. I dug in with more enthusiasm than manner, thumbing through a ledger I’d borrowed from the study.
Without glancing up from my reading, I knew the quiet rustling from the doorway was sure to be Lady Juliet. She busied herself at the sideboard before taking a seat across from me with her plate. She was fresh-faced, pink-cheeked, and her eyes blurry with sleep. She had bound her hair in a simpler style than she usually favored. Her wayward curls were already plotting an escape from her coiffure. The placid mask of the night before was nowhere to be found. I was imminently glad for it.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” My voice was rough with disuse.
Her answering flush was unexpected.
“I must confess I did not.” At my questioning brow, she continued. “I found myself far too distracted with the misadventures of Adeline to sleep.”
Her tone was playful, and she bit her lip to cover a pleased grin. I found myself suppressing a similar smile at that.
My response was entirely inappropriate. “I had difficulty sleeping as well, but it wasn’t thoughts of a desolate abbey that led me to distraction.” I fought back a pleased smirk at her flush.
She waited until I had taken a sip of my tea before replying, “Theodore de Peyrou drove you to distraction then?”
I choked down my tea with an undignified cough. She covered a giggle with the back of her hand. Despite its appearance at my expense, it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
“Monsieur de Peyrou remains in a Parisian prison, while my distraction remains somewhat closer to home.”
Her eyes fell to her plate, and her flush deepened. Her navy eyes return to mine, mischief still shining in them. I met her whimsy with a crooked grin of my own.
“Speaking of your distractions, I have something to show you if you have a few moments this morning.”
Her reply was interrupted by Kate’s appearance. “Good morning Jules, Michael. I trust you slept well?”
“Quite well, thank you,” Juliet replied with a pointed look in my direction.
I struggled to keep my grin from deepening. I would keep any confidence she was willing to share with me. Even such a small secret felt… intimate.
Kate turned to me with a raised brow, loading her plate with breakfast treats. “Quite, as well.”
“I have some preparations that need to be made for our stay here. Perhaps you would be so kind as to show Lady Juliet the estate and grounds?” Once again, I was reminded how far above himself my brother wed.
“Oh, I should not wish to impose,” Juliet protested,
