Solomon was dead. Ellis was running. And everyone in their lives was in danger. He was the only one left alive to take the responsibility for this debacle.
And what did he do? Well, he got himself distracted by a woman with green eyes and a spine of steel hidden beneath a soft, delectable body. And distraction was a killer. It would just be a sweeter death than the one he was sure to face with Winston Leonard.
He shook his head. Christ, he had to stop doing this. He had to stop longing for something that wasn’t his. It was over now. He would never see Juliana Shelley again.
And he had a job to do.
Once again Juliana was surrounded by her sisters and their husbands in the Earl of Harcourt’s London home. Once again she sat to the outside of their foursome, watching as they talked together. Watching as the couples exchanged little meaningful glances or brushes of hands. The separation between them felt so stark now even as she tried to pretend that it wasn’t.
She sighed and got up, walked to the sideboard across the parlor and freshened her tea. She felt so out of sorts, she almost didn’t recognize herself anymore.
It had been three days since she had been banned from the Donville Masquerade. Three days where the address Marcus Rivers had given to her had all but burned a hole in her gown pocket. She kept fingering the fine paper, daring herself to look at it. But she hadn’t found the nerve yet. Once she did, she would have to decide if she would go there.
If she could face a man who had so firmly dismissed her. If she could face herself and the desires that burned in her chest.
“Juliana?” She turned and found Thomasina at her elbow. Her sister’s expression was concerned as she slipped an arm around her waist and squeezed. “What is it?”
Juliana wrinkled her brow. “What is…what?” she asked, trying to sound light and unaffected and perfectly fine when she was anything but.
Thomasina pursed her lips. “Come now. You have been distracted for days. I’ve watched you disappearing into your head here and at Father’s. Won’t you talk to me about it?”
Juliana forced a smile. Usually she was the one wheedling out the truth from her sisters. It was rather annoying being on the opposite end of that equation.
“I adore you for worrying,” she said. “But I promise there is no need.”
She moved to step away, but Thomasina caught her hand and tugged her back. Now Thomasina’s gentle expression was lit with anxiety. “I don’t believe you. Please.”
Juliana bent her head. There seemed to be no hiding the truth, and perhaps she shouldn’t at that. After all, there was danger to more than just herself.
“I…saw…Winston Leonard,” she admitted with a quick glance toward Anne, Rook and Harcourt across the room. They were smiling. That would end soon enough.
Thomasina released her hand and staggered back, away from Juliana. “You what?” she gasped out, loud enough that all the other heads turned.
Juliana shook her head. This was happening. “Yes,” she said so that everyone could hear. “I saw Winston Leonard.”
Rook and Harcourt launched toward her side by side, with Anne right behind them.
“Where?” Rook barked. “When?”
“A few days ago,” Juliana admitted. “Here in London.”
“Where in London?” Harcourt asked, his irritation at her lack of specificity clear. “Juliana, why didn’t you tell us?”
She chose to focus on the second question rather than the first. “You are all in wedded bliss,” she said softly. “Two happy couples starting your lives together. You’ve hardly had time for anyone else, have you? If you are planning, it is without me involved. I had no chance to inform you and I was in no hurry to cause extra strain in already difficult circumstances.”
Both her sisters drew back a fraction at her tone and she saw them exchange a glance. Even without the special connection they shared as triplets, she could read their expressions. Pitying. Perhaps guilty because they knew she was right. Juliana was being left behind as the only sister without true love panting after her heels.
She couldn’t even get a man known for love cons to seduce her. It was rather pathetic when she thought of it in those terms.
“Juliana,” Harcourt said, his face twisted as if her pain were an anathema to him. “I-I’m sorry if you feel you’ve been left out. That was never our intention. I have been trying to convince your father to allow you to stay with us for a while. For your protection if nothing else.”
She shrugged. “He doesn’t care about my safety, though, does he? You will not win that argument, my lord.”
Anne arched a brow. “Well, he will not like it when I take over.”
“Still,” Harcourt said. “I wish you had told us about Leonard when you first saw him. Are you certain it was him?”
She lifted a hand to her scar and felt the tingle like the knife was just slicing there. “As if I would ever forget that horrible face.”
