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Juliet froze in the doorway, her heart tripping double-time. Goodness gracious, this was pure disaster. In the corner, Polly stood looking ill at ease. She’d obviously been kept there so she couldn’t warn Juliet off. And a white-faced Rosalind sat rigid on the bed.
When Juliet glanced to her sister in a panic, Rosalind gave a tiny shake of her head. So Rosalind hadn’t told Griff anything. And now she probably expected Juliet to lie for her.
Even as Juliet rebelled at the thought, she mustered her energy to do so. Because if she didn’t, Rosalind and Griff would be at odds again, and she couldn’t bear to see it. Just because her own chances at happiness were melting away didn’t mean theirs had to.
She faced her brother-in-law calmly. “I went riding. What of it?”
He strode forward. “You’re supposed to be resting, that’s what of it! I thought you were too ill to travel, and here you are gadding about the countryside. And alone, at that.”
“I woke up feeling much better today, that’s all.”
His eyes narrowed. “Rosalind told me you were so ill this morning, you could barely raise your head.”
Juliet winced as her sister groaned. They really should have compared notes. “Well, I…um…”
“Polly, you may leave,” Griff said tersely, and the maid gratefully fled.
As soon as she was gone, he crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s going on here? What have you two been up to?”
“Nothing!” they said in unison.
He rounded on Rosalind. “I’m not an idiot, you know. Juliet has never been sick a day in her life and suddenly she’s stayed ill for a week? And wouldn’t allow a doctor near? I thought I could trust you to tell me if I had reason to be suspicious, but obviously I was wrong. You’ve both been plotting behind my back. And I demand to know why!”
As Rosalind sat there uselessly fumbling for words, Juliet stepped forward. “I wasn’t ready to leave Shropshire yet, that’s all. So I pretended to be sick.”
“Might that have anything to do with that scoundrel Templemore?” His face darkened to a shade of red that boded ill for both of them. “You’ve been meeting him in secret, haven’t you? I wondered why he was always absent, and now I know why.”
“That’s not true!” Juliet protested. Oh, dear, was her loss of virtue written in her face for the whole world to see? Or was he merely guessing?
“All this time, you pretended to be ill while you crept out to meet him. Damn it, Juliet, I thought better of you than this. But I won’t let him take advantage of you as his brother did. A worse pair of wretches I’ve never encountered. When I get my hands on the bastard—”
“Please, Griff—” Juliet began, alarmed at the thought of what he might do or say to Sebastian.
“This has nothing to do with his lordship,” Rosalind broke in wearily. “Juliet did it all for me.”
A rush of relief hit Juliet. “Rosalind, you don’t need to—”
“It’s all right, dearest,” her sister said. “I shouldn’t make you fight my battles.”
Griff stiffened. He searched his wife’s face, and then his features went stony. Turning back to Juliet, he said, “Lord Templemore has nothing to do with this?”
“Nothing at all,” she lied. The last thing she needed was Griff confronting Sebastian in his current state. Sebastian would add fuel to the fire by saying he’d compromised her, and before she knew it, the two men would be marking off paces in a field somewhere.
“Then it won’t matter to either of you if we return to London?” he asked.
“Actually,” Juliet said, “I was going to suggest that we return anyway. I went riding precisely because I’d grown tired of staying cooped up in my room. I’m ready to go back to London whenever you two are.”
Griff nodded, apparently satisfied by that answer. “Good.” He held out his arm to his wife. “Come now, Rosalind, let’s leave Juliet to pack. I think you and I have a few matters to discuss in private.”
As soon as they were gone, Juliet sank onto the bed. Well, that was that. She had no choice now. They were returning to London. She’d made her decision, and it was too late to do anything else.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. She was leaving Sebastian here. What if he never came after her? He’d abandoned her before for the sake of his brother; what was to keep him from doing it again?
For a moment, she considered running back to him. Perhaps she was being too stubborn about this. Could it really hurt if he hid the truth until his brother returned?
But then what would happen when Morgan did return? Disaster, that’s what. She could end up permanently estranged from her family, and for what? A man who thought she’d “make him a good wife,” and that’s all. Who said he couldn’t love her. Who thought of her only as some waif in need of rescuing.
She blinked back new tears. No, she had run off with him once before without his offering her anything but promises of a future that had never materialized. She wouldn’t do it again.
