“By God, Cross, you’re a sly one. You’ve rather ruined my plans for her, but there are dozens of other pretty little birds of paradise to be had in London, eh? Perhaps I’ll have another go at her, once you’ve finished with her.”
Miles advanced on Boggs with his fists so tightly clenched the skin over his knuckles threatened to tear. “Do you dare impugn the lady’s honor, Boggs?”
His voice was dangerously soft, a low, threatening hiss, and at last Boggs realized he’d made a drastic error in judgement. “I—well no, of course not, I just… I beg your pardon, Cross. I didn’t realize you’d gotten there first, or else I would never—”
Boggs got no further, because Miles seized him by the throat and slammed him up against the wall. “Notanother word.If youeverdare to speak her name again, you’ll be calling your seconds, and meeting me at dawn.”
Boggs’s eyes bulged, the color leaching from his face. “T-there’s no need for that, Cross. Why, that business last night was nothing, nothing at all. I hardly laid a finger—”
“Youtouchedher?” He wrenched Boggs away from the wall, then slammed him back into it again with enough force the doors around them rattled.
There was a thump, and an instant later, Lady Fosberry threw open the door to Juliet’s bedchamber. She didn’t say a word, only stared at Boggs with such disgust that even he, a man with no shame or scruples, cringed and swallowed.
If Boggs could swallow, then Miles’s fingers weren’t bloody tight enough, so he squeezed until Boggs’s face turned a mottled shade of purple.
“I swear I never t-touched her, Cross! Never! I-I, oh, no! I, er, I meant to say I—”
Slam.“You’re a bloody liar. See to your seconds, Boggs—”
“Lord Cross!” Lady Fosberry raised her voice to a shout to be heard over Boggs’s whimpering and sniveling. “There will be no duels. I absolutelyforbidit. You do Juliet no favors with such behavior!”
Miles hesitated. He’d love nothing more than to spill Boggs’s blood, but as badly as he ached to bury a ball in his flesh, Lady Fosberry was right. A duel between them would hurt Juliet, and he wouldn’t allow her to be hurt ever again.
Not by anyone, least of all himself.
He loved her more than he hated Boggs.
So, he did as Lady Fosberry bid, and flung Boggs away from him. “You have Lady Fosberry to thank for saving your miserable skin, but if I ever hear even abreathof gossip about Miss Templeton, I’ll come for you, and you’ll find yourself at the other end of my pistol.”
“Not a word, Lord Cross, I swear it! N-not a single word. Indeed, I’ve always admired Miss Templeton, truly, and would never dream of insulting—”
“Get out of my house.Now.”
“Yes, yes, of course, at once!” Boggs continued to babble as he backed down the corridor, then scurried around the corner like a fleeing rat.
“Well, Lord Cross.” Lady Fosberry crossed her arms over her chest. “That was quite a performance.”
Miles was still panting with rage. “You should have let me shoot him.”
Her lips pursed with disapproval. “Forgive me, my lord, but I think a screaming brawl in the hallway is quite enough for one morning.”
“Where is Juliet?” He looked past Lady Fosberry into Juliet’s bedchamber, but it was empty.
“Gone.”
“Gone,” he repeated dumbly. “Where?”
“She left very early this morning in Lady Drummond’s carriage. She’s at Lord Hawke’s estate in Charlbury with her sister, Helena. Here.” She thrust a letter at him, then waited while he read it. “Now then, Lord Cross, may I assume by that woebegone expression on your face that you’ve come to your senses regarding Juliet, at last?”
He’d either come to his senses, or lost them entirely. He hardly knew which. The only thing he was certain of was that he was desperately in love with Juliet Templeton, and every moment that passed without her knowing it was pure torture. “Yes, my lady.”
Her forbidding expression softened. “Good. I suppose you’d better go and fetch her, then, but not just yet. Let her have a day alone with her sister before you go racing off to Hawke’s Run. Helena Templeton is wise beyond her years, and will set Juliet back to rights. She’ll be more willing to listen to you then.”
Pure torture, then, but perhaps he deserved it.
He made his way back to his bedchamber to find Vincent waiting for him. “Lord Cross, here you are. I’ve got your gray coat and black waistcoat right—”
“No. Not the black, Vincent. I want the scarlet today.”
