My reply was dripping with feigned sincerity. “I’m afraid to tell you it’s much too late to avoid such a terrible fate. In fact, I think it best to offer them some truly delectable gossip fodder.”
“Is that so? How do you suggest we court scandal?”
He was contemplating my hand now, slipping our interlaced fingers apart. He shocked even me when he gently, deliberately, loosened my glove’s grip on each of my fingers before sliding it off my hand entirely and set about stripping me of the other. The movement was far too sensual for a ballroom, and I honestly could not say whether my resultant flush was from embarrassment or arousal.
“You’re—” my hoarse voice cut out on me and I was forced to start again. “You’re doing a fine job of it right now.”
“Oh, good. I would hate for my efforts to be in vain.”
“Michael…” I intended it to be a stern repudiation, instead it was a needy whisper. “Michael, take me away from here.”
He straightened, suddenly serious before slipping my ungloved hand into his elbow to guide me gently out into the London night.
Twenty-Nine
JAMES PLACE, LONDON - JULY 1, 1814
MICHAEL
I tuggedher along faster than I ought, down the hall and out onto the temperate streets of Grosvenor’s Square. In the London night, she pressed closer to me, seeking my warmth. After shrugging out of my tailcoat, I wrapped it around her. It was a worthy sacrifice for her company. She tucked gratefully into the coat. I quite liked the sight—the entirely improper attire, marking her as mine for all to see. Underneath my coat, I caught sight of delicate gold thread vines and flowers, the one she had been embroidering that day in the rain. I was immensely grateful to see it. Now it was for me and not her wedding gown to Rosehill.
She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Angst had dulled the memory of her slightly. But here in the lamp lit night of the street, she was exquisite. She had left her curls primarily to their own devices, wild and free. A few escaped the delicate gold pins, catching the light, a halo around her. Her eyes darkened in the night. That darkness lent a sensual quality to her gaze. Her expression had pooled something inside, encouraging ungentlemanly thoughts I couldn’t shake.
“I suppose I should see you home?”
“I’m not certain I have a home at present.”
“You mean…”
“He wagered the deed to the house, yes.”
My stomach clenched at that thought. Of her without a roof, without comfort. My doing.
“Not at my club. Surely no one accepted that?” I dreaded the answer but needed it all the same.
“No. He chose other, less reputable venues for his riskier wagers.”
The relief was mild compared to the frustration at her circumstances, the ones I could have prevented.
“Juliet, I… How can I begin to make amends for what I have cost you?”
“You cost me nothing, Michael. My father made his choices. He made his priorities quite clear. You are no more responsible for his actions than I am.” She paused here, directing my gaze back to hers with a delicate hand on my jaw. “Kate has kindly offered to let me stay with them until I find a more permanent situation. Perhaps you can walk me to Grayson House?”
I nodded distractedly, grateful for the destination, the purpose. “A more permanent situation?”
“Yes. I had thought to apply for governess positions. Not in town obviously, but there may be some less particular families in the country.”
The ton would condemn her for her father’s dishonor and the display at the ball, assign blame to her when nothing could be further from the truth.
“Governess? Why would you be a governess?”
“Well, I must find some way to provide for myself. I can hardly spend the rest of my life relying on your family’s charity.”
“But you will marry.”
She pulled me to a stop now under one of the street lamps, insisting on my full attention.
“I’m quite ruined, Michael. And there is the other problem of course.”
