The Rogue's Disgraced Lady

‘A footman has carried her up to her room, and one of my other guests—Mr Hallowell—is a physician. He has gone up to examine her even as we speak,’ Dolly Bancroft answered Juliet’s question before she even had the chance to voice it.

‘I must go to her,’ Juliet said.

‘I am sure there is no need for you to trouble yourself, Juliet.’ Dolly frowned at the suggestion. ‘Mr Hallowell is perfectly competent, I assure you.’

‘Nevertheless, I intend to go and see my—Helena for myself.’ Juliet turned to pick up a candle to light her way up the stairs to the servants’ quarters. ‘Surely it would have been better for you to have sent one of the servants to inform me, rather than abandoning your other guests?’

Dolly pursed her lips and her gaze no longer quite met Juliet’s. ‘I thought it best, in the circumstances, if I came and informed you myself.’

‘Circumstances?’ Juliet repeated dryly. ‘What might those be, Dolly?’

‘I—You—’ Dolly Bancroft looked uncharacteristically flustered. ‘I simply thought it best,’ she repeated briskly.

‘Dolly?’

The other woman was suddenly every inch the Countess of Banford as she paused to turn in the hallway and look at Juliet down the length of her pretty nose. ‘I really must return downstairs to my other guests now, Juliet.’

‘Of course.’ Her own manner was just as haughty. ‘In that case you and I will speak again in the morning, Lady Bancroft.’

Some of the starch left Dolly’s expression. ‘Why all this fuss, Juliet?’ She gave a conspiratorial smile. ‘Surely you must agree that St Claire is devilishly handsome?’ She laughed softly. ‘And, not only that, he is the lover that all the women of the ton secretly wish to have as their own!’

Juliet drew herself up to her little over five feet. ‘Then they are welcome to him!’ she announced.

‘Most of them would be only too happy if they could get him. Unfortunately they are not the object of Sebastian’s current interest.’ Dolly gave her a knowing look.

Juliet’s gaze faltered a little and her expression became wary. Was Dolly saying that it was she, in particular, whom St Claire desired? That actually, it was he who was the instigator of their adjoining bedchambers?

Of course Dolly was not saying that, Juliet instantly chided herself; she and His Lordship had not even been introduced until this evening, and the allocation of the bedchambers for the Bancroft guests would have been made long before that.

‘Lord St Claire’s interest in me is not particular,’ she informed the older woman frostily. ‘He is simply an opportunist. A man who sought to use my—my discomfort earlier this evening to his own advantage.’ Juliet’s eyes flashed as she recalled the way the young lord had invaded her balcony only minutes ago and dared to kiss her.

And he was probably on the balcony still—no doubt listening to every word of this conversation!

‘Lord St Claire is a renowned rake. Nothing but a seducer of women!’ Juliet added for good measure.

Sebastian was eavesdropping on the conversation between the two ladies with increasing displeasure. But he’d had no other choice than to remain, trapped as he was outside on the balcony of Juliet’s bedchamber. Any attempt to step back over the dividing ironwork would clearly display him to Dolly’s gaze. Yet this last accusation of Juliet’s was almost enough to make him step forward in protest—and in doing so give away his hiding place to the already suspicious Dolly.

Something Juliet would definitely not thank him for!

But the captivating Countess had to know that Sebastian was still outside on her balcony. Just as she must also be aware that he would overhear her every word. No, her every insult…

Sebastian had no idea at that moment whether he wished to soundly spank Lady Juliet Boyd’s delectable bottom, or just kiss her until she was weak and wanting in his arms! Or whether doing either of those things would bring that trapped look back into her eyes. The same expression Sebastian had seen and questioned a few minutes earlier…

‘Sebastian is usually too busy avoiding those avaricious women to rouse himself into seducing any of them,’ Dolly continued.

‘Then I wish he would stop avoiding them and let himself be caught!’ Juliet snapped. ‘I certainly have no interest in knowing Lord St Claire any better than I already do!’

Dolly gave a rueful shrug. ‘I fear, Juliet, that you will have to inform Sebastian of that yourself.’

Sebastian knew that she just had…

Juliet, reluctant as yet to go downstairs to breakfast and face any of the other guests, requested that the maid Dolly had sent to help her dress return downstairs once this task had been completed, and bring a tray up to her bedchamber.

She had not slept well, and a single glance in the mirror earlier had shown her that this was all too apparent in the dark shadows beneath her eyes and the pallor of her cheeks. Both those things seemed all the more noticeable once her hair was secured on her crown in loose curls.

Juliet had told herself that her restless night was because of her concern for Helena and her badly twisted ankle, but inwardly Juliet knew her insomnia had been for another reason entirely.

Because of another person entirely.

Lord Sebastian St Claire.

Juliet had half expected that he might still be on her balcony when she’d returned from visiting Helena’s room the previous evening. Or, worse, actually awaiting her in her bedchamber. But she had found both her bedchamber and the balcony empty, and a surreptitious glance onto the balcony adjoining hers had shown her that it was also empty, the doors firmly closed, and no lighted candle visible in the bedchamber itself. Indicating that Lord St Claire had either gone to bed or he had rejoined the men downstairs playing cards. Juliet strongly suspected the latter.

One thing she knew for certain: she would not be able to leave today as she had planned. Helena’s ankle was indeed very badly swollen, and Mr Hallowell had advised that she must stay in bed for the day, and perhaps tomorrow, too, to allow for the swelling to go down. More importantly, he’d stated that Helena should not travel any distance for at least the next few days, to aid her recovery. And Juliet could not—would not—depart Banford Park without her.

Another reason for her disturbed and sleepless night.

For if she could not leave Banford Park, then she could not escape seeing St Claire again, either…

‘Is there enough tea in that pot for two?’ A familiar voice interrupted her unwelcome thoughts.

It seemed that Juliet could not escape the persistence of Sebastian St Claire even in her own bedchamber!

Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she stood up to turn and find him standing in the doorway that opened onto her balcony. ‘My bedchamber is not a public thoroughfare, sir!’

‘I should hope not.’ He grinned unrepentantly as he stepped fully into the room.

Juliet supposed she should be grateful that he was at least more suitably dressed this morning, in a fitted superfine coat of dark green, with a paler green waistcoat neatly buttoned beneath, a white cravat meticulously tied at his throat, and black Hessians worn over buff-coloured pantaloons. But that was all she could be grateful for.

‘I meant, My Lord, that I do not recall giving you leave to just enter my bedchamber whenever you please!’ Her eyes flashed her indignation at the liberty he had just taken.

‘Not yet,’ he acknowledged ruefully. ‘I live in the hope that you will soon do so.’

Juliet watched somewhat incredulously as he bent to pick up her own teacup and sip the cooling liquid from the very same spot she had, only seconds ago, those beautiful whisky-coloured eyes deliberately meeting hers over the china cup’s delicate rim.

He was still trying to seduce her, Juliet recognised with an uncomfortable fluttering sensation in her chest.

Sebastian St Claire really was too handsome for his own good. Or for any woman’s good, either—including her own.

This would not do. It really would not do!

Sebastian recognised the signs of Juliet’s impending temper. The glitter of her eyes. The bright spots of colour that appeared in her cheeks. The tilting of her stubborn chin. The tightening of her determined jaw.

He placed the cup unhurriedly back in its saucer. ‘The other female guests are intending to stroll down to the village to look at the Norman church.’ His derisive expression showed exactly what he thought of that plan. ‘I thought perhaps you might prefer to go on a carriage ride with me?’

If anything, her jaw clenched even harder, until he could almost hear her teeth grinding together. ‘Then you were mistaken!’

‘You are looking pale this morning, my dear Juliet,’ Sebastian observed soothingly. ‘Hopefully a little fresh air will bring some of the colour back into your cheeks.’