Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
The interminable meeting with Chesterhill had been a colossal waste of Eric’s morning, especially since his time would have been better spent with Juliet.
The marquess hadn’t provided any new information other than the time and date Eric was to meet with the solicitor on Bond Street, and it had taken him less than a minute to relay that information.
As Eric had previously explained to him, there was nothing he wanted from Chesterhill as far as his boxing was concerned.
Therefore, that part of their conversation had been pointless.
Although it was all meaningless, Eric had convinced himself.
However, looking back now, he concluded the old man wanted to spend time with him, and although he wasn’t quite ready to let go of his anger, a part of him was flattered. Another positive was that his half-brother was enthusiastic about coming to one of his fights.
“Splendid,” Eric said in response to Alexander. “It’d be an honor.”
Why not? Alexander Beckett was personable, and he seemed sincere.
Eric’s loved ones from The Pink Petal were usually otherwise engaged while he was fighting, and it might be nice to have family cheering for him.
So, perhaps, the meeting wasn’t as useless as Eric had initially thought, other than it kept him from Juliet.
He’d expected to see her in the drawing room in the early afternoon.
Alas, her maid and her sister told him she was tired and resting.
Given that he and Juliet had engaged in a pleasurable, emotional morning, she probably was exhausted, in which case, he needed to allow her space to rest. But when he still hadn’t seen her a couple of hours later, he began to worry.
And then he’d been stuck in the drawing room forever, listening to Chesterhill prattle on about tenants and crops.
The longer Eric sat still, the faster his heart hammered.
Finally, at long last, he stood. “Please excuse me. I would like to rest for a while.”
Chesterhill’s bottom lip stuck out.
“I hope we will see you at eight of the clock for our evening meal,” Alexander said.
Looking quite sheepish, the lady of the house chewed on her lip.
Lady Emily was a terrible liar. Father and son might have believed the fabricated story she told about Juliet being in bed with a headache. “My sister is so distraught over the letter from our mother that she requires solitude,” she’d said.
What bollocks. Juliet Coldpepper was much too optimistic and resilient for such nonsense. Not to mention, Emily couldn’t meet his eyes as she’d blathered about “...megrims…”, “...nerves…”, “...tears…”, and other such rubbish.
He reached Juliet’s chamber and stood staring at the door. To hell with propriety. His intuition was rarely misleading, and something felt very wrong. He knocked.
Unfortunately, she didn’t answer.
He cracked the door and peeked inside. The drapes were pulled, but his stellar vision and keen hearing told him she was not there. He grabbed a candle from a hall sconce and sneaked into the room, closing the door behind him.
The scent of their morning bath, fused with her signature lilac scent, swirled around him as he shone the candlelight in every nook and cranny, searching for clues to her whereabouts.
He discovered the too-small slippers sitting beside the bed. Her boots, cloak, and traveling bag were nowhere to be found.
It seemed that Juliet Coldpepper had fled from him. But why?
Things were going so well between them. They were even planning to make love tonight.
Perhaps she was having second thoughts. Or maybe she’d never wanted the intimate relationship to begin with.
Had he been insensitive? Pushed her for carnal relations by behaving like the depraved men he detested?
That had to be the reason she’d run away.
He fought the urge to howl as gut-twisting pain squeezed the air from his lungs.
The door cracked open, startling him. He didn’t need to look to know that the newcomer with the heavy step wasn’t Juliet. He swung around to face the maid who’d told him Juliet was resting. Esther, if his memory was correct.
She bobbed a curtsy.
He should probably apologize for being in Juliet’s room, but he was much too troubled to bother.
“Do you know where Miss Juliet is?” He had to find her and apologize for his behavior.
Esther lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Yes, sir, I do. She entrusted me with her whereabouts.”
“Are you going to share these whereabouts with me?” he asked gruffly.
“I ain’t sure, sir, because it’s our secret.
” Her chin lifted indignantly. “But she gave me this to give to you.” Her hand quivering, she held out a folded piece of stationery.
“I didn’t read it. I promise. I don’t read people’s letters.
I can’t read very well. But even if I could, I wouldn’t do something so dishonorable.
But I’d like to learn to read someday so I can be a proper ladies’ maid. ”
He appreciated the woman’s loyalty to Juliet, so he probably should use a gentler tone. Maybe then she’d stop shaking and chattering.
Exhaling slowly, Eric removed the wax seal and unfolded the note. He silently read the swirly, precise letters. Twice. Meanwhile, sweat beaded on his forehead and quickly soaked the underarms of his shirt.
“Bloody fucking hell,” he grumbled under his breath.
Juliet would get herself killed roaming the rookeries looking for Knight Roamer.
She thought she knew how disagreeable Riley was, but she was much too sheltered to completely understand the depths of his depravity.
Eric should have taken the abomination into an alley months ago and strangled the last breath from his lungs.
If only Auntie hadn’t begged him not to interfere.
He’d been wrong to honor these particular wishes.
“When did she leave?”
“Late morning.” The maid twisted her hands in her skirt.
“How is she getting to London?” he asked.
“The man I fancy took her. He delivered a new horse to his lordship and was taking an older horse back to Mayfair. Walter ain’t in trouble, is he? Because I asked him to take her. ’Tis my fault.” A tear dripped down Esther’s cheek. “Lady Emily said I ain’t in trouble. But he isn’t either, is he?”
Eric had no idea how to respond since he was a bloody by-blow with no authority.
He doubted either of the well-meaning, meddling individuals was in trouble since the sisters had the Chesterhill men worshipping at their feet.
But if something happened to Juliet… Good God.
He’d hold Esther, this Walter bloke, and Emily personally responsible.
For right now, he had to stay calm and get to London as fast as possible.
He shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know, but Juliet may be in danger.”
The maid’s eyes went wide, and tears cascaded down her cheeks.
Although shocking, the letter was also precious because Juliet had confessed that she was falling in love with him.
He’d dwell on this beyond delightful news later.
Taking care not to tear the stationery, he folded it, then slid it into his pocket.
Storming past the whimpering Esther, he threw the door wide and continued down the hall.
“Son,” Lord Chesterhill called as Eric passed the drawing room.
Thunderation. He didn’t have time for this right now. And why was the blasted man still calling him son despite his earlier request?
Fists balled by his side, Eric stepped into the drawing room.
“How delightful that you’ve had a change of heart and will be joining us.” Grinning, the marquess held up a half-full glass of amber liquid. “Join us for a libation.”
“Is something amiss?” Alexander raised his brow. “You look as though you’ve just lost a championship fight.”
Her jaw drawn tight, Emily grimaced as she stared at the ground.
Eric didn’t give a whit that these people were above him in station. The woman he was falling in love with might be in grave danger, so he didn’t have time for aristocratic subtleties.
“My lady, why did you hide the truth from me? I should have gone with her.”
“I’m truly sorry,” Lady Emily mumbled. “But she wanted to be the one to tell you. She asked me to stop treating her like a child and allow her to make amends for her mistakes without interfering.” She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.
The pain he saw in those hazel eyes echoed his own.
“Sitting here doing nothing while she faces our parents’ displeasure is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. ”
Facing her parents was the least concerning part of Juliet’s gambits.
“What in the devil are you two yammering about?” Chesterhill asked.
“I believe that Juliet left Chesterhill Manor without telling anyone but my wife,” Alexander said. “And I gather from the look on Stone’s face and the desperation in his voice that he has romantic feelings for Juliet.”
“Hear, hear.” Chesterhill held up his glass. “I approve.”
Bloody splendid. Eric snorted. “I’m taking one of your horses, Chesterhill.
And just so you know, you have an inconsolable maid in your guest wing.
” Thereupon, Eric sprinted from the house to the stables, all the while praying he didn’t slide from the saddle and break his neck before he found Juliet.