Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Juliet’s abduction at knifepoint had proven once and for all that running away had been a necessity for self-preservation.
She still owed apologies, but after she defended her actions and said that she was sorry, she would not wallow in guilt.
Charles had been even more despicable than she realized, and if she had married him, her life would have been a living nightmare.
If Abigail hadn’t ended his reign of terror, chances were high that another abused woman would have—possibly even Juliet.
Once Juliet returned home, the first thing she did was send a message asking her parents to meet her in the drawing room at the top of the hour.
Next, she’d changed into a clean dress and stockings.
Before sliding into her slippers, she’d kissed the satin toe while promising to never again leave home without her favorite footwear.
Betty was so happy to see her that she’d flitted around Juliet’s chamber, relaying household gossip. Then she brushed Juliet’s hair until it was silky smooth.
Juliet turned from the mirror to look directly into Betty’s eyes so that she understood her sincerity. “I’m exceedingly sorry. Emily misses you so much, and I know you miss her. The next time I visit Chesterhill Manor, I promise to take you with me.”
“I would like that,” Betty said. “I worried and paced so much that I started to wear a path on the carpeting.”
“Would you like to meet my fiancé?” Hopefully, the offer helped to make up for the things she’d put poor Betty through. “You will be the first person in the household to do so.”
“Lord Riley?” Betty’s nose wrinkled. “I’ve already met him.” Disappointment laced her response.
This was indeed interesting, since Betty had never mentioned her dislike of Charles before.
“Not Lord Riley,” Juliet said. She would tell Betty of his demise after she broke the news to her parents. “I ended our engagement once I was safely with Emily. My fiancé’s name is Eric Stone, and he is wonderful. I need someone to keep him company while I meet with my parents. Would you please?”
“Me?” Betty bent at the waist to study her own reflection, pushing a few unruly curls behind her ear. “It would be an honor if you think it is appropriate.”
“I would be forever grateful,” Juliet said. “Please take him to the kitchen and see that he has something to eat.”
Betty enthusiastically accepted the task, agreeing to retrieve Eric from where he waited outside the servant’s entrance.
Now that Juliet wore fresh clothing, and she’d asked Betty to forgive her, it was time to throw herself at her parents’ feet and grovel.
She paused outside the drawing room, composed herself, and then entered. Before she had time to apologize, Mother wrapped her in an embrace and led her to the settee, where they sat side by side.
Father’s greeting was more subdued, but Juliet didn’t detect anger in his countenance. He arranged his tailcoat, then lowered himself onto his favorite chair across from them. “Tell us why you disappeared without a word,” he said. “Your mother has been beside herself, as has the staff.”
“I suppose I should start by telling you the truth of what happened on Drury Lane,” Juliet began. “I know there was a version of the story Charles told, as well as one that appeared in a newspaper yesterday.” The way Father devoured the news, he had to be well-informed about both of them.
By the time she finished telling them as much as she dared, Juliet’s burden felt lighter.
Surprisingly, instead of lecturing and berating her, Father’s expression was one of compassion.
Alexander had been correct when he’d claimed her parents would be more pliant after fretting over her safety because, currently, their love and support were palpable.
Not that she would ever revisit this irresponsible, albeit needed at the moment, method again.
Mother patted her teary eyes with a handkerchief. “I’m just relieved that you are safe.”
“Please forgive me,” Juliet said. “As you can see, I felt as though I had no other choice.”
“So, instead of protecting you, Riley hid behind you like a coward, going so far as to push you into the armed man?” Father asked.
“Yes.” Although Juliet no longer feared a scathing rebuke from her parents, she still dreaded their disapproval, therefore, she chose her words carefully. “I’d already come to understand that he was controlling and unfaithful, but when he cowered behind me, I knew I couldn’t marry him.”
Mother sniffled into the handkerchief. “How could we have been so wrong about him, Dudley?”
Father closed his eyes and exhaled a sigh so filled with regret that it broke Juliet’s heart. She ignored the damp handkerchief and squeezed Mother’s hands affectionately.
“I know you both want the best for me. I wanted to tell you the truth more than anything. Truly, I did. But I thought you would force me to follow through and marry him even though I’d grown terrified of him.”
“Are we that terrible?” Father asked.
Terrible wasn’t the correct word. It was more that they were stuck in their ways and overly concerned about society’s opinions.
Perhaps their generation felt they didn’t have a choice.
But Juliet’s views and priorities had changed, and she could not marry for duty.
Women were not chattel or brood mares. She wanted an equal, loving partnership, and that is what she would have with Eric.
“From now on, you must tell us everything,” Mother said. “We will do our best to be more understanding. We were so worried about you. I don’t think I could survive something like that again. I didn’t know I was capable of producing that many tears.”
Juliet winced, then reminded herself she wasn’t going to drown in regret. Still, guilt pounded on her like angry little fists, which was probably the reason she desired to confide more.
“I have something else to tell you, but you cannot tell anyone,” Juliet said, immediately regretting her words. When had Mother ever held her tongue when provided with shocking, salacious news?
“We will do our best,” Mother said. “Right, Dudley?”
Father nodded. “I suppose so.”
“If you want me to tell you things, I have to be able to trust you,” Juliet said, her tone deadly serious.
“You can trust us,” Father said. “Right, Theodosia?”
“Yes,” Mother said. “You girls are the most important thing in the world to us.”
Since this is what Juliet needed to hear, and probably because she didn’t want there to be more secrets than necessary, she continued. “I shouldn’t have knowledge of this information, but I suspect it will be in the newspapers by tomorrow, and all of London will be talking about it soon.”
“What information?” Father asked.
“When I returned from Emily’s, I went to see Hugh Fletcher to ask him to help me find Knight Roamer. As I explained, the man is heroic, and he saved me. Hugh’s wife, Lady Charlotte, invited me to stay with them last night.”
So far, Juliet had been entirely truthful, but she would have to leave out sleeping in a brothel with Eric. One simply didn’t tell a parent of such things—honesty or not.
“Meanwhile, Mr. Fletcher was already investigating Charles. He followed him to his secret chambers. This is how he discovered his murd…um…murder. He was shot in the chest by a woman he mistreated. He has a history of violence toward women. I am not the only one he abused and threatened.”
The image of Charles’s expression when he realized he’d been shot slammed Juliet’s memory. She whimpered, then swallowed to keep from crying.
“You are safe now,” Mother said.
Juliet focused on Mother’s gentle expression.
Of course, she couldn’t mention that Mr. Fletcher helped Abigail escape, because that was not her tale to tell.
Or that she’d been held captive and seen the murder.
She didn’t want Father’s heart to stop beating or for Mother to have nightmares for the rest of her life.
“Dead? Shot to death?” Father rubbed his brow. “Am I correct in assuming this woman was a…I can’t say the word in front of gently bred ladies. A woman whom he frequented for favors?”
Mother placed both of her hands over her heart. “’Tis all so very horrible.”
“A deuce of an investigator, that Fletcher,” Father said. “They say he can find a pebble on a rocky shore.”
Mother wrinkled her nose. “He may be handsome, but he is also ill-tempered and brooding, not to mention, far beneath Lady Charlotte in status.”
Goodness, what would her mother say when she met Eric?
“You will both keep my secret. Correct?” Juliet asked.
“Of course,” Mother said.
Using his thumb and forefinger, Father pressed his lips together.
“There is more,” Juliet said.
Juliet didn’t miss Mother’s cringe even though she tried to hide it with a smile.
“Go on,” Father said.
“I want to marry a man named Eric Stone.”
“Marry?” Mother asked.
“Who is Eric Stone?” Father asked.
“Eric is your dearest friend’s son,” Juliet added.
Father’s brow furrowed as if he were contemplating dozens of friends. “Which of my friends would that be?”
“Lord Chesterhill.”
Father moaned. “A bloody by-blow?”
The man hadn’t yet grasped the reality of the situation, so she’d have to find another way to explain it. “Keep in mind,” Juliet said, her index finger held high. “When Charles’s death becomes public, no aristocratic man will want to marry the ex-fiance? of a man murdered by a prostitute.”
Father’s face paled as Mother’s turned scarlet.
“Eric is downstairs, in the kitchen, having tea and a light repast with Betty. Would you like to meet him?” Juliet folded her hands together as if in prayer, while silently willing her parents to say yes.
“He’s having tea with the staff?” Mother’s eyes widened into her I-am-beyond-horrified look.
“He is a large man, and he didn’t have time for breakfast today,” Juliet said. Because he’d spent his morning saving her from an insane man and witnessing a murder. Juliet’s belly complained indignantly at the mere thought of food.