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“For what reason?” Griff sounded offended at the thought that the gossip might be his fault. “How could an enemy benefit from sullying my sister-in-law’s reputation?”

Lord Templemore retreated. “It was merely a conjecture.”

“And a bad one, too,” Griff retorted.

This didn’t suit her purpose, Griff’s sniping at his lordship. It would only put Lord Templemore on his guard. “It wasn’t Griff’s servants,” she put in, “nor ours. Helena covered all that up very well. Since she alone saw my note, she told everybody—the servants, the townspeople—that we’d been summoned to London by Griff and Rosalind, who were returning early from their honeymoon and would meet us there. Then before she set off after me, she told everybody that she’d had to send me on first because she’d had to deal with some last-minute estate matters.”

“And they swallowed that?” Lord Templemore said incredulously. “They didn’t connect your sudden departure with Morgan’s?”

“If they did, they’ve never said anything to me or my family. Everybody in Stratford knew that ‘Captain Will Morgan’ expected to return to his supposed regiment soon. And Helena always had the reputation for being the soul of propriety. They’d never dream she’d countenance any impropriety in her family.”

“Ah, but young ladies don’t always listen to their older sisters on matters of propriety. Didn’t they suspect you might ignore your sister’s stellar example?” When Juliet glowered at him, he added with the merest hint of a smile, “Forgive me, but even well-bred young women can be impetuous enough to run off with ‘dashing rogues’ like my brother.”

How dared he echo her own words? “I was never regarded as impetuous or brave by the townspeople.”

“Yet you must have possessed a little of those qualities to have risked eloping.”

“I eloped because your brother deceived me into thinking him a worthy suitor.”

“If you’d thought him a worthy suitor,” Lord Templemore said coolly, “you would have sent him to your father to ask for your hand.”

Goodness gracious, but the man knew how to provoke her. Remember the plan, she cautioned herself. Don’t lose your temper. “I did try to do so, but Morgan convinced me it would be pointless. He said Papa would never approve of my marrying a mere army captain.” All of that was true, as he well knew.

“Morgan was right, even if it was only an excuse to lure you from home,” Rosalind interjected. “Papa wouldn’t have approved at all. He’d wanted better for you. These days, however, he’d be delighted if you wished to marry the butcher.”

“He would not,” Juliet protested weakly, grateful that her sister had changed the subject. It sounded uncomfortably as if Lord Templemore had been blaming her for his actions. She didn’t need him echoing her own self-reproaches. Especially when he knew perfectly well that he’d prevailed upon her to misbehave.

“Papa wants you to marry, you know,” Rosalind persisted. “We all do.”

“I say Juliet has been right to refuse her suitors heretofore,” Griff put in. “A sad lot, all of them.”

Bless her gruff brother-in-law for taking her side. He usually acted as if she couldn’t think for herself. When he followed his defense with an amiable wink, she beamed at him.

“Don’t encourage her, for pity’s sake,” Rosalind remarked. “I liked several of her suitors. How about that nice Lord Havering? You couldn’t have objected to him, Griff. He’s young, he’s handsome, he’s kind—”

“He’s a bloody idiot,” Griff said. “I once compared Prinny to Falstaff, and he asked me who Falstaff was and why he hadn’t met him in society.”

“Not knowing Shakespeare doesn’t make him stupid,” Rosalind grumbled.

Juliet laughed. “Really? But isn’t that why you disparaged a certain Lord Andrew to me? Because he attributed to Marlowe one of your precious Shakespeare’s plays?”

“That’s different.” She sniffed. “Lord Andrew actually is stupid.”

“Lord Havering is indeed a nice man,” Juliet went on. She really had liked him. She just couldn’t conceive of marrying him. “But we wouldn’t have suited.”

“Havering,” Lord Templemore mused aloud. “Isn’t he the man who accidentally shot himself in the foot while handing his friend the pistol to be used in a duel?” When Griff looked surprised, he added, “I heard about it from Uncle Lew. I understand it made Havering the laughingstock of London.”

Griff’s eyes sparkled with humor. “It put a damper on the duel as well.”

Rosalind sighed. “All right, so perhaps Juliet was better off without Lord Andrew or Lord Havering, though I didn’t realize Havering was quite that cork-brained. But what about the Marquess of Kinsley?”

“Isn’t Kinsley already married?” Lord Templemore remarked.

“Widowed,” Griff explained. “With three children. Apparently, my wife thinks Juliet ought to jump at the chance to inherit a family half grown.”

“It wasn’t the children that bothered me.” Juliet stabbed a piece of apple. “I liked them a great deal. But I found Lord Kinsley…er…distasteful.”

“Distasteful?” Rosalind snapped. “Why?”