“The lady’s name is Juliette Matthews. She is the Duke of Huntley’s youngest sister.”
Bartholomew slowly lowered his glass and stared at Smith. “Isn’t Huntley the fighter who leveled the Bull last year?”
In hindsight, the match had been a foolish undertaking, considering all the variables. But the Bull had been a champion and Bartholomew had been so damned certain of his success. Who knew that a duke would step up into the ring and best a man twice his size? Nobody could have predicted such an outcome, except for Guthrie, of course. He’d humiliated Bartholomew that day, forcing him to resort to other means by which to encroach on St. Giles. Securing the house that stood on the edge of it would have been a solid start, but then his own bloody son had interfered and the rest of his plans had gone to hell.
“The very same,” Mr. Smith confirmed.
This was even better than Bartholomew could have hoped. “Then perhaps we’ll kill two birds with one stone by targeting her.” He hadn’t intended to seek revenge on Huntley, but why the hell not? “Let’s wait awhile and see how things develop. In the meantime, have Lady Juliette placed under constant surveillance. The more we know about Florian’s love interest, the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Mr. Smith hesitated, shifted slightly and appeared to consider. Then, “What shall we do with Mr. Blaire?” he asked in reference to one of Florian’s chief physicians.
The man had been tasked with checking on the quarantine ship, but Mr. Smith had intercepted Blaire’s carriage en route to Brighton and offered him a better job as Bartholomew’s private physician.
“Nothing, at the moment,” Bartholomew said, in answer to Mr. Smith’s question.
Mr. Smith arched an eyebrow. “What if he talks? It won’t take long for Florian to figure out who you really are.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” Bartholomew chuckled. “I cannot wait to see the look on his face when he realizes I’ve destroyed his life.”
Mr. Smith nodded. “I can understand that.” He tilted his head. “Speaking of ruining his life, you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve found the perfect adversary for Lowell.” He pulled on the sleeve of his jacket and straightened his shirt cuff.
“Oh?”
“The Earl of Elmwood is reported to be a crack shot. He also has a very pretty wife who’s twenty years his junior.” Mr. Smith smiled. “From what I’ve been able to discover, Elmwood won’t let her dance with anyone but him because he fears she might be led astray by a scoundrel.”
Bartholomew grinned. “His insecurities will serve us well, Mr. Smith. Elmwood sounds like the sort of man who will reach for his pistol first and ask questions later. Which is precisely what we need.”
Chapter 18
Seeing Florian again wasn’t something Juliette looked forward to. Not after he’d left her in a state of utter bewilderment the previous evening. He’d been about to kiss her. She knew it deep in her bones. And yet the exasperating man had denied them both that moment of pleasure. Because he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, or whatever his unacceptable excuse had been at the time. She could not recall his exact words on account of the flustered state she’d been in. As it was, it had taken her a good fifteen minutes or more to gather her wits and return to the ballroom and a very impatient dance partner whom she’d forgotten about in the process.
But, when word arrived from Raphe, informing her that Amelia was having her baby, Juliette grabbed her reticule and hastened out into the street with the intention of finding a hackney, only to be met by Florian’s carriage. “What are you doing here?” she asked as he leapt to the ground and made a quick bow. “Shouldn’t you be at Coventry House?”
“I’m on my way over there now, but your home was en route, so I thought I’d make sure that you and your family were made aware of your sister’s condition.”
“Raphe and Gabriella are already there. They went for tea.”
“Right... well...” Florian glanced back over his shoulder. “In that case, you can come with me.” He stepped aside and offered his hand to help her up.
Juliette hesitated. “I should probably ask my maid to join us.” Occupying a hired hackney alone was one thing, but sharing a carriage with an unmarried gentleman was quite another.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t afford to wait. And besides, there’ll be no harm to your reputation as long as the windows remain uncovered so people can see us.”
Assured by his comment and propelled into action by the urgency of the situation, Juliette stepped forward and placed her hand in his. Her heart immediately leapt and her skin began to tingle. Since ignoring it was no longer possible, she accepted her body’s response to his presence and climbed into the conveyance.
“About last night...” Florian began as soon as they’d taken off. He sat across from her, not touching her at all, yet he could still prompt flames to lick their way along her limbs with nothing more than a glance.
Juliette expelled a breath. The man had apparently no intention of leaving her in peace. “Must we discuss it?”
“I think we ought to. You see, as a gentleman, I would like to convey my sincerest apologies for the way in which I treated you. It was disrespectful and...” He paused while Juliette squeezed her eyes shut. His voice deepened as he continued, heightening her awareness. “You drive me to the brink of madness, Juliette. Your beauty, your boldness, your courage and your kindness...” His hand caught hers and she opened her eyes to the face of desire. “You encourage me to lose all reason.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “Am I to blame for the manner in which you led me into the darkness then? For the way in which you chose to touch me? For pressing your body up against mine and forcing me to confess my most intimate thought?”
“I beg your pardon, I truly do.” He released her hand and leaned back. At least he had the decency to look thoroughly chastised, which was a rare departure from his usual poise. And then his expression filled with regret. “Abstaining from you has proven a chore. You cannot possibly imagine how much I want you. To walk away from you every time there is an opportunity for more between us is no simple feat. On the contrary, it is torturous to say the least.”
As angry and hurt as she was by his stupid denial of what they could share, she sympathized with his plight. Which made her ask, as his friend, rather than the woman who wanted him with every fiber of her being, “Why won’t you let me help you? If you confide in me, perhaps together we can destroy the obstacle in your path.”
He huffed out a tired breath. “You are sweetness itself, Juliette, and I am fortunate to have won the admiration of a woman such as yourself. Which is precisely why I cannot possibly share my reasons for why we cannot be together. Because your opinion of me is too important. I will not risk it.”
