“For pity’s sake, what ails the man?” Lady Fosberry had grabbed one of the stray pillows, and was squeezing the life out of it. “Why shouldn’t he want you here?”
“Because I’m a scandal.”
“Nonsense, Juliet! You’re not—”
“Iam. My mother is a notorious adulteress, my lady. The entiretonhas washed their hands of the Templetons, and that wasbeforeEmmeline’s, er…entanglementwith Lord Melrose this season. Aside from you, all of our old friends have long since abandoned us. I should have known I wouldn’t be welcome here.”
“My dear child, you’re mistaken—”
“No, I’m not. There was no mistaking the horror on Lady Cecil’s face when she caught sight of me in the entryway last night. She couldn’t have been more horrified if a dozen rats had scurried through the door.”
At the mention of Lady Cecil, Lady Fosberry’s face went darker than the thunderclouds outside the window. “Oh, I can well imagine Lady Cecil set upon you like a spitting, hissing, rabid cat. But you mustn’t let her upset you, dearest. She’s an ill-tempered, haughty old harridan. If anyone shouldn’t be here, it’sshe.”
“Lord CrossinvitedLady Cecil and her nieces.”
Lady Fosberry snorted. “Yes, well, I daresay he’ll regret that soon enough. I’ve seen him cross the entire length of a ballroom to avoid her.”
“Lady Cecil won’t be the only one here to turn up her nose at me, my lady.” She hadn’t expected all of Lord Cross’s guests would welcome her with open arms, but neither had she realized there would be so many of them at Steeple Cross.
Weren’t hunting boxes meant to be small, well… boxes? Lodges of some sort?
Steeple Cross was an elegant, turreted affair of handsome gray stone, with a great many windows and arches and peaked roofs and such things, with aristocrats crowded into every corner of the place. It was rather like being in London, only worse.
One couldleavea London ballroom.
But a house party, somewhere deep in the Oxfordshire woods, trapped in a house with dozens of aristocrats, all of them eager to show their disapproval of her? That was a nightmare in the making, and one she should have foreseen, only…
Even if she had, she never would have imagined Lord Cross would be one of them.
She rose from the bed, wandered to the window and twitched a stray fold of the heavy silk draperies aside. The rain had sputtered to a dismal dribble, but the angry clouds above were swollen to bursting, threatening another deluge.
Of course, his hunting box must behere. It was so veryhim, to have chosen the least hospitable place in England to have his party, a place so enveloped in darkness that she may as well be trapped in the blackest bowels of—
“Are you quite certain about Lord Cross not wanting you here, dearest? The housemaid who attended me last night regaled me with quite a tale about how he vehemently defended you from an attack by Lady Cecil.”
He had defended her, yes, and she’d been grateful to him for it, but that kindness had withered and died in the face of what had followed, because as awful as Lady Cecil had been, he’d been worse. “I’m certain.”
“But he was so gallant last night! My dear, the way he whisked you right out of the air and into his arms was nothing short of miraculous.” Lady Fosberry let out a girlish sigh. “Why, I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“He didn’t have much choice. It was either catch me, or let me crash down on top of him. It was less an act of gallantry than one of self-preservation.”
“Even so, not one man in a hundred could have managed such a feat. I shudder to think what might have happened to you if it hadn’t been for Lord Cross.”
“I don’t deny it was impressive of him.” The instant he’d closed his arms around her, the cold and wet had melted away as if they’d never been, and for those precious few, fleeting moments, she’d believed he was pleased to see her.
But his voice, when he’d welcomed her to Steeple Cross… perhaps she should have known what would happen, the moment she heard his voice.
Before last night, it had never made any sense to her why people persisted in describing his voice as cold. She’d never found it so. Oh, it might sting at times, but it put her in mind of rich morning chocolate that singed the tongue a bit before it melted into a dark sweetness.
Last night, though, for the first time since she’d met him, that sliver of ice in his voice had been meant for her alone. Underneath the smooth veneer of politeness, it had been cold and tight, like a clenched fist inside a smooth kid glove.
Harbinger of doom, indeed.
“Come here, dearest.” Lady Fosberry beckoned to her.
Juliet abandoned her post by the window, and dropped onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Perhaps I should be thanking Lord Cross for banishing me. I daresay I wouldn’t have enjoyed myself much.” Now that he’d refused to help stem the flood of rumors, there was no reason for her to stay.
“Oh, dear. Youarefretting, aren’t you? Well, this isn’t the first time Lord Cross has put a frown on a young lady’s face.” Lady Fosberry tapped the space between Juliet’s brows with her finger. “Such a pretty face, too, to be spoiled with a deep groove here.”
