Chapter 6
Chapter six
As soon as the glow of dawn filtered through her window, Juliet pulled the covers over her head.
She groaned, trying to block out the memories of Charles making a spectacle of himself, stomping and throwing his hands about in front of the theatre after Knight Roamer’s appearance.
It seemed he’d missed the Gently-Bred-People-Should-Control-Their-Fits-of-Temper-in-Public lesson.
Although it was more likely that the Rileys simply felt themselves above manners.
She should have listened when Emily insisted that she and Charles didn’t suit. Not only was the man controlling, but he was also sinister. On top of that, his grandmother was an unpleasant shrew. Juliet had been blind and na?ve not to have noticed this family’s intolerable foibles earlier.
How dare Charles forbid her from visiting her sister? No marriage and no man, no matter his physical appeal, wealth, or title, was worth alienating herself from one of the people she loved most in this world.
And then he had pushed her in front of a thief with a knife. “Pfft!” Someday, she could tell her children about the first time their father used their mother as a shield. No, thank you. Never again.
Juliet bristled. What if he truly smelled like flowers because he had been in another woman’s bed? She didn’t care what others did; she would never accept this behavior from her fiancé or husband.
If her guardian angel hadn’t been there when Lady Riley vehemently refused to hand over the sapphires she may have had her neck sliced open and bled to death while the Rileys shrugged and counted their valuables.
Lord Riley was a cowardly arse.
Conversely, there was the masked man. So brave. So heroic. So large and brawny. Saving her. Kissing her.
Dear lord, a stranger had kissed her in public.
Not many people had been around to witness the scandalous moment because they had been close to the end of the line of carriages.
But still. Her savior had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his solid chest. Then, he’d placed his lips on hers, and her cold body had ignited.
Even now, the memory of being close to him warmed her.
Awareness tingled between her thighs, leaving her breathless and aching.
Her hips arched, reaching for something.
If these foreign sensations were lust, they were both delicious and overwhelming.
If only she could see her masked man again so she could kiss him back instead of standing there gasping like an unsophisticated ninny.
Oh. My. God. Mother and Father! All hell would break loose when news of the kiss reached them.
Mother would faint dead away. Then, Father would lecture about the dangers of the working class wandering the city in masks, tying up aristocrats and kissing ladies.
By God, he’d yammer until Juliet’s ears bled.
All of her parents’ nonsense was trivial compared to the wrath the Rileys would visit upon her.
People like them did not handle humiliation with dignity.
Charles had already made his anger known when he hissed in her ear, “If you ever again tell me how to treat my staff, I will punish you. And make no mistake, it will be unpleasant.”
His threat had terrified her even more than the cold blade against her skin. And then, even more horrifying than Charles’s menacing warning was the silent rage radiating from him on the carriage ride home.
“What a monumental hash.” Juliet sighed. No matter what, she must avoid both her parents and her fiancé at all costs. Perhaps she should leave London.
A mischievous smile tugged at her lips until she giggled. How hard could it be to hire a stagecoach to take her to Emily?
First, she would find her masked man and thank him—again. Perhaps she could kiss him. Just once. And just because… Well, she was a woman, and he was a man for starters.
She could do this. She would do this. She threw off the counterpane. Bounding out of bed, she rushed to the window.
Glittering snowflakes twirled from the clouds, softly landing on the roof of the Andersons’ townhouse. “Simply glorious,” she congratulated Mother Nature. However, this wasn’t the time to revel in scenic beauty.
Racing to her wardrobe, she pulled her satchel from the shelf.
Tugging two dresses from their hooks, she shoved them into the satchel.
She slid out of her nightdress and stuffed it into the bag.
She didn’t have time to deal with stays, so she rolled them into a ball and placed them on top of her nightclothes.
Betty had not yet returned her easy-to-get-into blue dress, so she hopped into her shift and purple dress.
If she wore her cloak, no one would know her frock wasn’t fastened.
In a flash, she donned her stockings and laced her boots.
Her next stop was at the dressing table. She ran a brush through her hair and then tied the long strands in a satin ribbon. The brush and a spare ribbon went into her bag, as did her toothpowder, face cream, and lilac fragrance.
Grinning like a fool, she lifted the lid of the silver box Mother and Father had given her for her thirteenth birthday. She withdrew her pin money and placed it in her favorite reticule.
Clothing? Check.
Undergarments? Check.
Shoes? On her feet.
Blunt? In her reticule.
Hairbrush, toothpowder, lotion? Check. Check. Check.
Jewelry? Not needed.
Cloak? She swung it around her neck and clasped it closed.
Bonnet? She smashed it on her head and tied it in place.
Gloves? On in record time.
Satchel in one hand, reticule in the other, Juliet tiptoed down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the servants’ entrance.
By the time Juliet reached The Coach and Horses on Bruton Street, a heaviness sat on her heart.
Melted snowflakes weighed down her bonnet, mud caked the bottom of her skirt, and her feet were as cold as the dickens.
But these were only minor inconveniences.
The primary source of her disappointment was that she hadn’t found Mister Brown Eyes.
She’d retraced her path from the previous morning to no avail.
She had even stood where she’d fallen when he’d lifted her onto her feet.
While there, she willed him to appear like some hero out of a gothic novel, but her prayers had gone unanswered.
Then, her mind began to play tricks on her.
Twice, she thought he was watching her from afar.
She’d wiped the snowflakes from her eyes to find herself staring at a townhouse in the distance.
Soon, Betty would discover she was missing.
Eventually, the poor woman would have to report Juliet’s disappearance to her parents.
Thereupon, a bombastic drama would unfold.
A search party would be sent with orders to bring her home immediately.
No one wanted that, least of all her, so Juliet had no choice but to let go of her ridiculous fascination with this man and trudge to this coaching inn so she could leave town before there was a scene.
“A fine lady like you traveling without a companion,” a man in his middling years said as he sat beside her.
Although it was none of this man’s business, Juliet sent him a friendly smile. “Thank you for your concern, kind sir, but I’m traveling to meet my husband.” The word husband soured in her throat, but the lie placated her nosy seatmate.
“What a lucky man,” he said.
The coach swayed unmercifully, causing Juliet’s empty stomach to churn.
At one point, a wheel caught in the mud and got stuck.
The mishap added almost another hour to the trip.
At least she was able to choke down what she thought was a beef pasty when the coach stopped at the Candlelight Inn to change horses.
It was late afternoon when Juliet finished the first leg of her journey. As exhausted as she was, she plastered a smile on her face, grabbed her belongings, and searched for a carriage to deliver her to Chesterhill Manor.