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“I’d rather not discuss it,” she mumbled and ate the apple sliver, praying they’d drop this embarrassing subject.
She should have known her brazen sister better. “Wait, I know why,” Rosalind said triumphantly. “Because of his cigars. You can’t abide men who smoke.”
“That’s not why,” she protested, though she did find smoking a disgraceful habit. The smell was so very hard to get out of the linens.
“You can’t deny it. It’s always something like that—smoking or snuff dipping or ragged fingernails or—”
“It was not that, Rosalind!” Why must her sister always think her the silliest creature in Christendom?
“Then what?”
She threw down her napkin and blurted out, “Because he never looked anywhere but down my bodice when we danced. I daresay he didn’t even know I had a face. There, are you happy now?”
Juliet regretted her outburst when a painful silence ensued and Rosalind colored.
Finally, her sister whispered, “Oh Juliet, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“You should have told us,” Griff remarked sternly. “I would have run him off.”
Judging from Lord Templemore’s thunderous expression, the man shared Griff’s sentiments. Given how he’d eyed her bodice himself earlier, it was quite hypocritical.
“What was there to say?” She shot Lord Templemore a pointed glance. “It’s not as if he was the first man to do it.” He raised an eyebrow unrepentantly, and she jerked her gaze back to Griff. “It’s just that Lord Kinsley was so very…obvious. He clearly had only one thing on his mind.” When Griff puffed up his chest in apparent outrage, she snapped, “And you shouldn’t be so self-righteous about it either. I’ve seen where your gaze lands when Rosalind wears one of her French gowns.”
Rosalind’s laugh turned into a cough when Griff glowered at her.
Lord Templemore hid a smile behind his napkin. “Really, Knighton, do you allow just any old fool to court your sister-in-law?”
“Allow?” she hissed before Griff could retort. “I’ll have you know, sir, that I’m perfectly capable of handling myself with men.”
“Are you?” His smug tone reminded her that she’d complained earlier about her lack of instincts in that respect. Not to mention that she’d let his lordship kiss her quite shamelessly last night.
He flicked his gaze over her. “When you’re accepting the attentions of men like Kinsley and Montfort, I have to wonder.”
“Montfort?” she echoed. “How did you know about him?”
Rosalind mumbled, “I…er…may have mentioned something earlier—”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Juliet said with heavy sarcasm. “Do go on, Rosalind. Why stop at telling a perfect stranger about my courtship disasters? Why not relate all my silly childhood peccadilloes, too—the time I got stuck in the butter churn, or the time I—”
“She merely told me you’d refused the Duke of Montfort’s suit,” Lord Templemore broke in, his voice oddly gentle. “And I told her you were right to do so.”
That softened her embarrassment. “Then you know Montfort.”
Lord Templemore shrugged. “A little. He spent one summer here when we were both fourteen and our fathers were friends. Is he still the soul of propriety in public and the soul of impropriety in private?”
“You’ve described his character exactly,” Griff said. “Though I’m surprised to hear you say it. Even men who know him are unaware of his…er…proclivities.”
“What proclivities do you mean?” Rosalind put in.
“Not the sort to speak of before young ladies,” Lord Templemore said firmly, with a glance at Juliet.
“This isn’t widely known, my darling,” Griff explained, “but although Montfort behaves like the quintessential gentlemen among his peers, he…Well, suffice it to say, Montfort may have every mama cooing over his charm and every little miss aching to steal his heart, but he isn’t what he seems.”
“If you knew this about him, why you didn’t keep him away from Juliet?” Rosalind asked, clearly intrigued.
“Now see here, I don’t need Griff to keep my suitors away,” Juliet protested.
They all ignored her. “I didn’t discover his true character until after she refused him,” Griff said. “That’s when Daniel informed me that he regularly visits…er…certain establishments.”
