Cates, Kimberly (15 page)

Had Elise ever known a mother's worship-filled touch? Was her mother weeping, even now in heaven over her daughter's plight? Or was her mother one of the hideous beasts she'd stumbled across all too often in the London streets, eager to trade a daughter's budding beauty for a half pint of Blue Ruin. That secret was locked with the rest of Elise's past behind gates of pain reflected in her dark eyes. But it didn't matter now, Juliet resolved. Elise had her to come to her defense.

Lifting the veil that concealed her face, Juliet draped the delicate webbing back over her bonnet and straightened her shoulders as she approached Darlington's box.

"Lord Darlington?" Her voice, clear and insistent, cut through the babble of the throng; all eyes, from the duchess's to Lord Darlington's lovely fiancee's turned toward her, regarding her with the mild astonishment of pedigreed dogs who had just discovered a raggedy cur in their midst.

"I am Lord Darlington," the gentleman allowed, a faint sneer in the curl of his lip. "Though that can be none of your concern."

"I fear you are wrong. There is a matter of the utmost importance we must discuss."

"And what, pray tell, is that?" he asked.

Juliet's chin jutted up. "A debt you owe."

"A debt?" Darlington blustered. "God's teeth! Cannot a peer of the realm even enjoy a night of diversion without being plagued by tradesmen! You should be grateful I even patronize your paltry shop! For your impudence, you may wait until hell freezes over for payment."

"I have no shop. And the debt you owe cannot be paid by something as simple as coin."

Darlington took a pinch from his emerald-encrusted snuffbox, and lifted it delicately to one chiseled nostril. "You have grown quite tiresome. Perhaps I should summon a servant to eject you from the premises. I have no intention of allowing you to upset the duchess and her daughter."

"You are the picture of chivalry, I am sure." Disgust laced Juliet's voice. "I am sorry for any distress I might cause them. But in my opinion it would be far worse for them to be upset later, when nothing could be done to mend it. Their regret would be far greater."

The duchess arose in all her splendor, her proud daughter at her side. "I dislike veiled accusations! Do the lower classes have no respect for their betters anymore?"

Juliet looked at the older woman, prying beneath the veneer of cold hauteur that years of preparing to take her place in society had glossed over her handsome features. Juliet fixed her hopes on the fact that the hand that had rested ever so briefly on the daughter's head was that of a loving mother.

"Your Grace, Lord Darlington is not a man to warrant esteem or respect. No man who treats a woman as he has should be given such accord."

"Treats a woman—God's Feet! What did I do, madam?" Darlington straightened the lace of his neckcloth with a laugh. "Tramp on your toes in my haste to get to my beloved's side? Splash your cloak with mud from my carriage wheel?"

Juliet turned her gaze to Darlington's face. "You and three of your associates pinned a helpless girl in an alley and used her most unforgivably."

The outraged chatter of the other guests shifted into coughs and gasps and murmured denials. The duchess's face went white. But it was her daughter's tiny cry that made Juliet wince.

"See here, young woman!" A portly papa blustered, all but diving to clap his hands over his gap-toothed daughter's ears. "Enough of this insolence!"

"Don't be absurd!" Darlington scoffed in a brittle laugh, but his powdered pale face whitened another shade. "Why would a gentleman of my caliber lower myself to such depths? Especially when my betrothed is the most lovely woman in London?"

"I cannot begin to guess," Juliet said. "Perhaps you should tell me."

"You will leave these premises at once," the duchess ordered imperiously, "before I have you flung out for these ridiculous accusations!"

"No, Mama." Miss Stonebridge sprang from her seat, capturing Darlington's sleeve, turning hazel eyes incredibly young and surprisingly sweet toward Juliet. "Please, miss, I am very sorry for this poor girl who was hurt, but there must be a mistake. I assure you, Foster is the very soul of gallantry." A brave smile curved her lips. "Isn't it possible there was a mistake?"

In that instant, Juliet wished that there were. "No. I am sorry, but the lady in question identified Lord Darlington in absolute certainty."

"Posh!" Darlington scoffed. "In the dark? How could she recognize—"

"She was once your mistress."

Juliet hated herself for the ashen hue of the girl's cheeks, the wounded light in her eyes. She strained to remember that she had not been the one to put it there, that Darlington was the betrayer. She turned her gaze back up to the nobleman, hating him with a virulence that would have saddened her papa's heart. "And if you want to guess which of us is lying, Lord Darlington, may I point out that I never mentioned that the incident occurred in the dark. Strange that you should know it did."

The nobleman's eyes bulged, his cheeks a sickly pink beneath their layer of powder. "How dare you accuse me of lying! The woman was a whore! She accosted me on the streets! By God, if she was bruised in the process it was because I was trying to yank her skirts back down over her—"

"You and three of your friends pinned her against the wall by Tarleton's Fishery. You ripped her bodice open and jeered at her because she is no longer beautiful. A shrunken cat, you called her, because she is skin and bones and can barely eat because of the pain you caused her."

"What the devil? Is that what that bitch told you?"

"One of my other ladies came upon Elise afterward, found her cowering in that corner, holding her bodice together, sobbing."

"Isn't it possible she tempted some sailor and he got too rough?" Darlington sneered. "She is a whore. Once a whore, forever a whore."

"I beg to differ." Juliet turned back to the duchess. "Your Grace, I am Juliet Grafton-Moore, the mistress of a place called Angel's Fall. It is a home for prostitutes and courtesans who have lost their way. Women who are attempting to rebuild their lives. I've been having some success. I desperately hope to have more."

"I have heard of you!" the duchess said. "The house is on Crompton Street."

"It might as well be on Jester's Row," one of Darlington's compatriots interrupted. "She is a laughingstock neck deep in harlots! By glory, the article in the
Spectator
regarding her absurdities had every man at White's in gales of laughter."

But Darlington was definitely not laughing now. "I must insist that you leave our party in peace, Miss Grafton-Moore—"

"Your Grace," Juliet appealed to the duchess. "The girl in question is a gentle soul, trying to rebuild her life. Never have I met one more determined to put her past behind her, or more horrified by the mistakes she'd made in the past. She is suffering terribly. And is so afraid of all men, any men that I assure you she would never attempt to entice—"

"This is not for my daughter's ears! Have you not the slightest scrap of decency? Exposing her to such a creature?"

"Elise was once very much like your daughter. Innocent. Trusting. The one difference between them is the fact that your daughter is fortunate enough to have you to protect her from men who would take advantage of her helplessness."

"Of all the impudence!" The duchess quivered with outrage, but Juliet saw the sick cast to her features.

"You are a woman, Your Grace. For all your power and exalted station, you know how defenseless a lone woman can be."

Darlington gave a snort of derision. "For God's sakes! The streets are full of such women. I had the ill luck to stumble across Elise. I took what she offered, and paid generously for the folly. Not an admirable act, perhaps, but one almost any gentleman you might name has indulged in upon occasion. It happened long before Miss Stonebridge and I met. The rest of these accusations are just some Banbury tale the girl brewed up to make mischief."

He leveled a scornful glare at Juliet. "Frankly, madam, if I were you, I'd not get so distressed over the tales Elise tells you. After all, she might be confusing me with one of countless gentlemen she's serviced."

It was the curl of contempt in his lip that did it, dismissing Elise so callously that Juliet's fiercely held control snapped. She grabbed up a pitcher of wine from a tray and dashed it onto the snowy white of Darlington's exquisite frockcoat, the pewter pitcher banging down onto the floor.

A roar emanated from those inside the box, shrieks and cries that sent servants bolting toward Juliet as red wine ran down Darlington's body like blood.

Rough hands clamped on Juliet's arms, two of Darlington's burly footmen bruising her with their grip.

The glare Darlington turned on Juliet left no illusions as to the depth of cruelty he was capable of. "Barnes, this woman accosted me. You will remove her at once and teach her the proper way to behave toward her betters."

A look of complete understanding flashed between servant and master, chilling Juliet's blood.

"Unhand me at once," she demanded in her most imperious voice, struggling against the servant's viselike grip.

"You all saw her," Darlington raged. "She assaulted a peer of the realm! I vow, she should face the magistrate."

"Please, Foster." The duchess's daughter intervened. "Let her go. Misguided as she might be, I... I do not wish her harmed."

He gazed furiously at his intended bride. "After what she's accused me of? After what she's done you would have me let her go?" He waved one beringed hand at the ruin of his frockcoat and scowled. "This does not speak well of your loyalty toward me, my love."

"It's obvious there has been a terrible mistake." The girl flushed, and the one thing Juliet regretted was the sting of hurt and disillusionment she'd put in Miss Stonebridge's eyes. "This is my betrothal party. I couldn't bear to recall it as the night someone was cast into gaol."

"After what this woman said to hurt you? You think I would let her free?" Impatience flashed across Darlington's handsome features, the expression of a man who loathed being thwarted. Juliet felt a swift surge of pity for the girl who would be his wife.

"Foster, I beg you. If you care for me, you will let her go."

Darlington hesitated a long stormy moment, then muttered an oath under his breath. "Fine, then," he snapped. "You have the gift of your freedom, given by my betrothed's hand. But if you ever harass me again, or anyone connected with me, I promise you, I will prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law." His eyes glittered, slits in his face, full of threats he couldn't voice with his betrothed and her mother beside him. Threats Juliet understood perfectly well.

They only served to make her square her shoulders. "I will do everything in my power to protect Elise. I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be." His pug-faced compatriot chortled. "He has a demned ugly temper, he does. And the thing I adore most about Britannia is that nearly everything's a hanging offense. Have to entertain the masses, don't you know?"

"The one thing we could be certain of is that Miss Grafton-Moore's hanging would be particularly well attended," Lord Darlington said with a nasty laugh.

"Personally, I much prefer a nice bloody duel to a hanging." A deep voice, cold and hard as an ice-sheathed saber, cut through the din of the crowd. Darlington looked up, fury and challenge twisting his mouth at the brazenness of this new intruder. Juliet wheeled around, her stomach plunging to her toes.

"A-Adam."

He walked toward them, magnificent as a knight's destrier amidst a stable full of overblown peacocks, his unpowdered hair flowing loose about his shoulders in a wild mane. The rippling muscles of his powerful thighs were sheathed in midnight-blue breeches, his frockcoat straining over the bunched muscles that capped his broad shoulders. He towered over the other men, turned the heads of every woman within the rotunda.

Juliet could scarcely breathe. How had he discovered her? Oh, Lord, Elise had sworn she wouldn't betray her!

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she stammered.

"Discussing hangings with Darlington." Adam crossed his muscular arms over the daunting breadth of his chest. "Damned cowardly business, if you ask me, watching while someone else slips a noose on a person who's bound hand and foot. As if there were any sport in that! Entertainment for those without enough nerve to drive a sword thrust to the hilt and feel the blood spatter on their own lily-white hands. But I suppose hanging would be a fitting diversion for a man so craven he would threaten a woman, Darlington."

"How dare you!" The aristocrat's long fingers groped for the hilt of the dress sword at his side. For a heartbeat, some bloodthirsty corner of Juliet's heart fluttered with anticipation at the prospect of swords unsheathed, Adam Slade driving fear into Darlington's eyes with the point of his blade—the same emotion Darlington had saddled Elise with. Yet she brought herself up short. Lord, the last thing needed here was bloodshed!

"Adam, I am finished here. Perhaps we should leave."

"Not before his lordship decides what to do about his hand on his sword hilt. Are you using that for a prop for tired fingers, or do you intend to draw your blade?"

"His sword hilt? Foster, no!" Miss Stonebridge pleaded, her voice breaking. "You mustn't fight. Oh, Mama! Stop him! This is just too awful!"

"Darlington, enough of this nonsense!" the duchess commanded, gathering her daughter into her arms. "Can't you see that you're upsetting the poor dear? I forbid any swordplay. I absolutely forbid it!"

She sounded like a nursemaid attempting to separate two brawling boys.

"What's it to be, Darlington?" Adam demanded with silky menace. "Blood to join that wine stain? I will be happy to oblige you."

Juliet could almost hear the instinct for self-preservation whirling madly in the nobleman's head as he eyed Adam— legs thick as tree trunks, arms solid as ships' masts, the scar on his jaw hinting at another challenge, another rival who might be long dead.

"Who the devil are you?" Lord Darlington demanded, glaring. "I feel like I've seen you before."