Chapter Eleven #2
“Ladies, have either of you written to your parents asking them to join us?” Lord Chesterhill asked.
“No, sir. But I believe Juliet is going to write to them today.” Emily cast a sidelong, questioning glance in Juliet’s direction.
“Splendid,” Lord Chesterhill said. “I will have one of the footmen post it from the village tomorrow morning.”
Juliet’s shoulders sagged. “So, I have until tomorrow morning.”
Stretching her arm to the side, Emily clasped Juliet’s dainty wrist and squeezed. “The truth of the matter is—”
“No,” Juliet said, her voice a soft plea filled with despair. “Please.”
“The Becketts are also family, Jules, and they need to know.” Emily hesitated. When Juliet didn’t respond, she addressed his lordship. “Our parents don’t know that Juliet is here.”
Lord Chesterhill’s brow furrowed. “Where do they think she is?”
“She no longer wishes to marry Lord Riley because he is an insufferable beast,” Emily said. “She is staying here while we try to find a way for her to break the engagement, which I am sure we are all aware, Mother and Father will never let her out of.”
Her face pale, Juliet sat stone still, the rise and fall of her bosom the only indication she wasn’t a ghost. Eric forced a full breath into his lungs, then exhaled slowly.
“We are family, and she needs our help,” Emily said, her voice stern.
“Thank the bloody bollocking hell.” Alexander’s booming voice echoed in the long chamber. “I was hoping that was the decision you would come to. That man is a boil on the arse of the aristocracy. Juliet, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”
“Of course, my dear,” Chesterhill said. “I will help you. No woman should have to marry a man she detests.” He swallowed.
“We must not allow the younger generation to make the same mistakes we made. Marrying for duty is for the passionless. I will speak to your father. Surely, he will respect the opinion of one of his oldest friends.”
Her eyes void of their usual sparkle, Juliet nodded.
Eric silently pledged to do whatever it took to bring Riley down. However, outing the man’s sexual proclivities might somehow hurt Auntie and the girls. Not only that, but he doubted anyone would care that the son of an earl liked to hurt women.
Despite the man’s status, Eric would rid the world of Riley in a heartbeat.
He’d grab him by the throat and squeeze until he held a corpse.
Or maybe not. Since he’d never killed a man, fantasizing about aggressively ending a life was masculine bravado nonsense.
Besides, spending his life in Newgate for murdering a lordling might not be the best-laid plan.
Perhaps he should steal Juliet Coldpepper away from Riley and marry her himself.
Good lord, he was a fool. He had about as much chance of marrying this woman as he had of… being a pugilist.
That wasn’t a fitting comparison since he was a champion fighter.
Becoming a hero of the people.
Somehow, he’d inadvertently done that, too.
Being the son of a wealthy aristocrat.
Well, damn. If things continued at this rate, perhaps there was a chance that he could marry Juliet Coldpepper.
Snow glistened from the boughs of the evergreens framing the vista as fluffy flakes fell from the sky, blanketing the gentle slope his companions climbed.
The ladies walked ahead of Eric and Alexander, the wind lifting the hems of their velvet cloaks and tearing at the ribbons that held their winter bonnets in place.
Emily’s hands were deep inside a fluffy red muff that matched her coat.
Juliet’s mittened hands swung in time with her steps.
Thankful for the heavy wool he wore, Eric shoved his gloved hands deep into the pockets of his borrowed great coat.
Juliet halted, grabbed Emily’s elbow, and pointed at the sky. The sisters popped onto their toes. Eric studied the treeline, eventually seeing the source of their excitement. A bird of prey, wings extended, dipped and swooped.
Alexander chuckled. “The two of them would enjoy a deadly storm at sea as long as they were together.”
That is because the sisters were radiant orbs of sunlight in an often-bleak world.
“I’m relieved that we have a moment alone,” Alexander said. “There are a few things I would like to say to you.”
Since he didn’t detect any malice in Alexander’s tone, the statement didn’t unnerve Eric. He tramped along patiently waiting for his half-brother to continue.
“Thank you for staying,” Alexander said. “I know you were hesitant at first, so I am pleased that you reconsidered. Your visit means a lot to our father.”
The words our father echoed in Eric’s mind. There was no way he’d ever adjust to knowing who his seed donor was.
“The truth is,” Alexander said, “I have spent most of my life horrified by our father’s indiscretions.
My mother deserved better. Right after she passed, Father brought home a new wife who was villainous.
She made Charlotte’s and my life a living hell.
She is currently in a private hospital for wayward women.
I’m unsure if there is a cure for her maleficence, so I pray that she never escapes.
She seems to have something called a histrionic disorder according to her physician. ”
“It would take me forever to fill you in on everything, so it is easiest to sum our sordid history up in one sentence. Family secrets almost destroyed us. Our father’s conscience could no longer take the cheating, lies, and deception. He has never been a saint, but he genuinely wants to do better.
“If you saw him a few months ago, you would have thought that death was knocking on his door. Trying to make up for his sins has given him purpose, and a renewed vigor. I don’t know how long he has, so I treasure every day I spend with him.”
This was a lovely sentiment that Eric simply didn’t feel. Perhaps life had jaded him, or maybe he didn’t have a heart.
“I suppose we have that in common,” Alexander said, waving to the ladies who had just reached the summit.
Nonplussed, Eric cocked his head to regard his brother. “What?”
“We have both lost our mothers. But we still have an opportunity to make peace with and have a positive relationship with our father.”
That might be true, but just because Eric didn’t loathe Chesterhill didn’t mean he was ready to forgive him for everything. Perhaps it was easier for Alexander to bond with the old man since he’d been blessed with attention and raised as his heir.
“Charlotte is Hugh Fletcher’s wife, correct?” Eric asked, purposely changing the subject.
“Yes,” Alexander said. “At first, their marriage was quite scandalous. The daughter of a wealthy marquess marrying a working bloke was the talk of the ton. Interestingly, Fletcher is connected to the aristocracy through his mother’s lineage.
His cousin is the Duke of Astleyshire. However, he has never been accepted by the upper echelons of society since his father was a working-class innkeeper.
Charlotte doesn’t seem to care that her choice was unfashionable.
I believe there is a benefit to her liberal attitude.
If she doesn’t care, then society holds no power over her.
She seems quite happy with her comfortable home and small, devoted staff.
As much as Fletcher’s arrogance makes me want to punch him, he treats her as if she is a princess.
In turn, she loves him with all of her heart. ”
“Charlotte sounds lovely,” Eric said in all sincerity. He might even like to meet her someday.
“She is a kind-hearted woman,” Alexander said.
“We have another half-brother. He is an aristocrat with a title, and currently, his identity is a secret. It will be up to him to approach you. Father will let him know of your existence. That is, if you want anyone to know. Truly, you call all of the shots right now.”
Since he was still processing everything, Eric had no idea what he wanted beyond freeing Auntie and spending time with Juliet.
“I suspect Fletcher will discover we have more siblings,” Alexander said. “And who knows what scandals he will uncover as he tracks them all down.” He inclined his chin toward the waiting women. “For now, let us speak of topics appropriate for the fairer sex.”
“Of course,” Eric said.
They joined the women on the crest, and the four of them looked out over the countryside.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Juliet asked.
Mesmerized by the healthy color of her cheeks and her bright eyes, Eric couldn’t tear his gaze from her. “’Tis,” he said.
She tilted her head and smiled.
“Ladies, how is it that the two of you look so toasty?” Alexander asked.
“’Tis all about attitude,” Emily said. “Surviving Mother’s moods required finding the silver lining in the grayest of clouds.”
“And I do so love to walk,” Juliet added.
What Eric wouldn’t give to walk with her every day.
“Shall we return home?” Alexander asked.
Juliet sighed. “If we must.”
Emily stepped into Juliet’s space and withdrew a hand from her muff to finger her sister’s bonnet ribbon. “There is warm tea and cakes at the other end.”
“Well, in that case—” Juliet clapped her mittened hands “—let us be on our way.”
Alexander linked elbows with Emily and guided her back the way they’d come.
Juliet and Eric fell into step behind them, their companionable silence quite comfortable.
Occasionally, Eric turned to the side to watch the flakes land on the brim of Juliet’s hat.
If he concentrated, he could hear her steady, soft inhalations.
They were halfway down the snow-covered incline when Juliet broke the silence. “I quite enjoyed last night.” Her voice was akin to a warm caress on his chilled skin.
“I enjoyed our evening as well,” he declared with an enthusiasm he should temper around a woman of her class. “I’ve never played charades before. You were great acting out the tree in the wind.”
Her tinkling laugh mingled with the whistling wind. “Lord Chesterhill gave us much easier scenarios. It did not take any skill to play a tree. You, on the other hand, did a marvelous job of pretending to be a lion. You were so… Well, utterly convincing.”
“Thank you,” he said, his damnable pride swelling his chest.
“Mr. Stone—”
“Please call me Eric.” Hopefully, his request was not too indecent.
She hesitated, and he regretted his lapse in etiquette. He was about to apologize when she nodded.
“Eric, thank you for staying. You have made my sister’s family quite happy.”
Since she was easy to talk to and he truly wanted to know the answer, he asked a question so bold that he shocked himself. “Do you know about my relationship to the Becketts?”
“I know that you are one of Lord Chesterhill’s sons. And that you are a pugilist from London. I also know that you are fun to play charades with, but I suppose the latter isn’t what you asked.”
Unable to stop them, the corners of Eric’s lips curved upward. Since Juliet’s face lit up, she didn’t seem to be horrified by what he knew was a disconcerting smile.
“Mayhap next time we should be on the same team,” she said.
A grown man did not leap about like an excited child, no matter how much he wanted to. “Mayhap,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.
“I dare say, you know a lot about me, too,” she said.
Not nearly enough because he wanted to know everything. Her favorite color. Her favorite flower. He’d wager that she loved to dance, and in his limited experience with dancing, the social activity had a lot in common with boxing.
“Oh?” he asked.
“You know that I ran away and am hiding from my fiancé and parents.”
He ached to tell her that he would protect her from Riley, but it seemed his earlier courage had already fled, leaving him an inarticulate imbecile. Oh, well. It had been grand while it lasted.
“Seeing as how we’ve learned so much about each other in such a short time, we are destined to be great friends.” She worried her plump, kissable lip. “We must keep each other’s secrets after all.”
True. But he still had so many more secrets to disclose. More than any gentleman should. Then again, he was no proper gentleman.
“Oh, my,” Juliet cried as her foot slid out from beneath her.
Eric’s arm shot out, halting her tumble. He spun to face her, and then, clutching her hips, he steadied her.
Snowflakes landed on her blinking lashes as she peered up at him. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly.
Wanting nothing more than to stare into her eyes as he held her, Eric reluctantly lowered his gaze to study the heels on her dainty boots.
Two things were clear. One: Women should not be expected to navigate slippery terrain in such impractical shoes.
Two: A gentleman should offer aid to any woman unfortunate enough to wear said shoes.
“My boots are much more suited to this weather,” he said. “So, may I offer you extra support?” He held his breath, hoping she would accept his assistance.
“You are so chivalrous.” She clasped his forearm, sending a bolt of heat straight to his heart. This woman’s touch was akin to a choir of angels singing hallelujah beneath a rainbow on a sunny day.
Taking his responsibility seriously, Eric tucked her mittened hand against him and balanced. Although they took their time, they reached the house much too soon for his liking.