Her Secondhand Groom Page 7

  And that’s exactly where he took her, straight to her room. Straight to her empty, dusty, and dare she say a wee bit musty room. Without much thought or emotion, she walked around to inspect the massive oak furniture positioned around the room.

  The day before, she’d packed up a few of her possessions to appease her mother who was in a dander that the task had yet to be done. Without much thought or care, Juliet selected some of her clothes and personal items and put them in a trunk to be delivered to Briar Creek. Good thing she actually put enough in that trunk to make due until she could either get Lord Presumptuous to agree to an annulment, or at the very least, have someone retrieve the remainder of her items from her parents’ cottage.

  She sighed and plopped down on her bed. Never before had her daring streak led her into anything close to this amount of trouble. All she had wanted to do was teach Lord Presumptuous a lesson and instead she had ended up his wife! With an uncomfortable swallow, she pushed the thought as far from her mind as she could. Which wasn’t that far, unfortunately, since she was in his house laying on a bed intended for his wife.

  She needed to concentrate on something else, if only for a few minutes.

  Juliet’s eyes did a quick scan of the ceiling. There was a slight crack running the length of the room straight above her bed. Curious. It went all the way from one end of the room to the other. It had a few slight bends and curves, just barely though. Only one or two here and there really. Not too many. The crack itself wasn’t so bad. Just long. Not wide. Maybe as wide as a quill tip or maybe even a half-penny. With a quick jerk of her head, she tore her eyes away. What had her life come to that she found a crack in the ceiling fascinating? She closed her eyes and shook her head. Dinner wasn’t for a few more hours; she’d busy herself until then. But with what?

  The girls! Yes, that was it. She’d go visit the girls. She may not like their father overmuch, but she did like them. Before the wedding breakfast she’d glimpsed a woman whisking them away to what Juliet assumed was the schoolroom. The woman looked a little old to be a governess, but perhaps she’d been with the family so long she’d not wanted to leave.

  Thirty minutes, five wrong turns, six curious stares, and three confusing conversations with passing servants later, Juliet entered the schoolroom.

  “Juliet! Juliet!” Kate cried upon Juliet’s entrance

  Less than ten seconds later, six arms wound their way around Juliet’s midsection, squeezing her so tightly she might have popped if she’d actually eaten more than five morsels at her wedding breakfast.

  “Have you come to spend the afternoon?” Celia asked, tucking a tendril of her dark hair behind her ear.

  All three of the girls looked so hopeful, Juliet’s heart melted on the spot. “Of course. What are you three doing in here anyway?”

  “Learning letters,” Helena said dully.

  The side of Juliet’s mouth tipped up. “Hmm, am I correct in assuming you’re not enjoying learning your letters?”

  No one responded.

  Juliet laughed. “Dislike them that much, do you?”

  “How did you know?” Kate asked, her voice filled with awe.

  “You told me, or should I say your lack of words and facial expression did.” Juliet said.

  “Oh,” Kate marveled. “And what does my expression say now?”

  Juliet pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at the little girl, letting her eyes do a slow, thorough sweep of the little girl’s sparkling hazel eyes and giant grin. “Hmmm, I could be wrong, but I think you’re thinking of biscuits. Yes, biscuits. That’s it.”

  Kate’s eyes widened so far Juliet was sure they were on the verge of popping out. “How did you know that?”

  “Oh, so my prediction wasn’t wrong?”

  Kate shook her head wildly.

  Juliet bit the inside of her cheek. It would never cease to amaze her the workings of young children’s brains. Who under the age of eight didn’t chronically think about biscuits or a similar treat? Juliet cocked her head to the side and tapped one finger against her cheek. “Now that we have that mystery solved, we have a larger matter at hand. Does anyone know if there are any of these rare little finds somewhere around here?”

  “In the kitchen,” Helena and Kate said at the same time.

  Juliet furrowed her brows, put her hands on her hips, and adopted a tone of pure disbelief. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Kate said proudly.

  Juliet blinked at her. “I don’t believe it. Celia, do you know what they’re talking about? They claim there are actually treats in the kitchen here at Briar Creek. Is that true?”

  “Yes,” Celia said with a little giggle.

  “Hmm.” Juliet twisted her lips then gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, what are you three waiting for? Now that you’ve made such a declaration―one I’m not sure I actually believe―I need to see the proof! Let’s go see if we can locate such a thing around here.”

  Kate’s little hand suddenly gripped Juliet’s and tugged. “The kitchen’s this way.”

  Juliet was sure she’d worn a hole in the soles of her slippers three minutes later when she entered the kitchen. One thing was certain, those little girls sure knew their way to the kitchen. Probably the fastest way to get there from the schoolroom, too.

  “What do ye want now?” a robust woman wearing an apron asked, a small smile bending her lips.

  “Biscuits!” Kate answered, running across the kitchen.

  Cook laughed. “All right. Go get ‘em.” She turned back to look at Juliet. “Excuse me, milady. His lordship sends his girls down here so often for treats, I’ve gotten in the habit of letting them pick what they want.”

  Juliet nodded. Living in a simple cottage almost all her life, she wasn’t concerned with servants and their roles. She’d never even had them except for the few years she’d attended school. Other than that, she or her mother had done the inside chores.

  Celia and her sisters walked over to a little table in the corner. “Are you coming, Juliet?” Helena called.

  “Of course.” She walked over to the table and sat in a vacant chair between Helena and Kate. “Don’t eat too many, girls. You’ll want to be able to eat your dinner tonight.”

  “Don’t worry, we will,” Helena assured her, popping half a biscuit in her mouth.

  Juliet shook her head. If her count was correct, and they hadn’t swiped more than she thought they had, there was no way those little girls would be able to eat more than three bites tonight at dinner. Good thing this was a lofty household where children ate meals separate from the adults or Juliet might have a lot to answer for.

  “Do you three think you’ve had enough?” Juliet asked, casually sweeping crumbs off the edges of the table and into her open hand.

  “Yesh,” Kate said around a mouth crammed full of biscuit.

  Juliet raised an eyebrow at the girl. “Do you have any milk?” she asked Cook.

  “Aye.” Cook left the room for a minute and came back with a little jug of milk. She put it down on the table with a thwack and turned around to grab three empty cups from a shelf behind her. With three more thwacks, she put the empty cups in a little row by the milk and filled them. “Jist a minute.” She turned and grabbed a little jar from the shelf. She turned back and sprinkled a little powder in each of the three cups. “For their stomachs,” she whispered to Juliet with a wink.

  Juliet flashed her a grateful smile. “You girls ready to go back upstairs and practice your letters?”

  “Do we have to?” Helena asked, her eyes hopeful.

  “Yes. All young ladies should learn to read and write. It’s important.”

  “But it’s boring,” Celia protested.

  Juliet stood and pushed in her chair. “And what if I could think of some way for it to be fun? Would you be interested then?”

  “Of course they would,” a sweet voice said from the doorway.

  Juliet spun around to face their visitor. But before she could say anyt
hing to this stranger who’d interrupted, Celia, Helena and Kate were off their chairs and embracing this woman with such speed Juliet would have thought a rabid dog were after them and this lady was their only source of rescue.

  “Miss Green! Miss Green!” Kate cried excitedly.

  “No, not Miss Green,” Celia corrected. “She’s Lady Sinclair now.”

  “Yes, she is,” a tall man with a heavily scarred face said, coming up to stand beside the petite blonde who Juliet assumed was his wife. The man bent down and gave each of the three girls a quick hug. “Are you three being good?”

  “Of course,” Celia said matter-of-factly.

  “Still modest as ever, aren’t you?” Lady Sinclair teased, her lips curving up while her green eyes twinkled.

  Juliet knew instantly they’d be good friends. That is, if they were ever properly introduced. She cleared her throat.

  Lady Sinclair flashed her a knowing smile. “Girls, why don’t you introduce us to your companion?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Celia walked over to Juliet and grabbed her hand. “Juliet, this is Papa’s friend Marcus, Lord Sinclair, and his wife, Emma, Lady Sinclair. They just married a few days ago.”

  Lord Sinclair smiled approvingly. “Very good introduction, Celia, but now you need to introduce your guest to us.”

  Juliet gave Celia’s hand a slight, reassuring squeeze. The day they’d come to stay at her cottage she’d determined all three of these girls were somewhat lacking in their decorum and manners. Not so much that they were little Heathens or anything, but they certainly could benefit from a few lessons.

  “Marcus, Emma,” Helena said excitedly, coming up to grab Juliet’s other hand. “This is Juliet. She’s our new mothern―”

  “Lady Drakely,” Lord Presumptuous cut in. He ran his fingers through his hair for what had to be at least the sixth time today, by her count, and cleared his throat. “This is the new Lady Drakely.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” Lord Sinclair said with a bow.

  Juliet was too fascinated by the expressions on all three of the other adults in the room to do more than murmur a greeting to each of them. For a reason she couldn’t fathom, her husband of less than six hours looked rather uncomfortable, almost as if he were about to suffocate from an overly tight cravat. Lord Sinclair stood next to him, his eyes not quite meeting Juliet’s. His face was too scarred for her to be able to have a clear understanding of his expression, but if his eyes were any indication, something was amiss. To his right, his wife stood silent. Far too silent. The laughter that was previously in her eyes was gone.

  Juliet’s eyes narrowed behind her thick spectacles. Was that a look of sympathy on the other woman’s face? She shook her head. Juliet might feel she was entitled to a bit of sympathy for her plight of being trapped into a marriage with Lord Presumptuous, but if even his friends thought she was in need of sympathy, she was in a bad way indeed.

  “Would you like to spend the afternoon with us, Emma?” Helena asked.

  “You mean, Lady Sinclair,” Celia corrected.

  Lady Sinclair smiled brightly at the three girls. “Of course. And what exactly are you doing?”

  “Well, we just finished eating biscuits and now we’re going up to work on letters,” Celia told her proudly.

  “Indeed? And you would have me come join you?”

  Helena giggled. “Yes. You may join us. But only if you promise you’ll not try to teach us anything.”

  Lady Sinclair blinked at the little girl, the edges of her mouth barely staying closed. “I won’t. I promise.”

  “Good.” Helena turned to look up at Juliet. “Before Emma married Lord Sinclair she was our governess.” The sour look on her face told Juliet exactly what she thought about that particular arrangement.

  Odd. The girls seemed to be apprehensive about Lady Sinclair, who, clearly seemed to be a close acquaintance, helping them learn their letters, but not Juliet. She mentally shrugged. Perhaps that was just because she was new and somewhat of a novelty to them right now. That would wear off soon enough and they’d be happy to have their regular governess back. “All right, girls, let’s go.”

  The girls walked down the hall, giggling as they stepped past Lord Sinclair and their father. “I’m not intruding, am I?” Lady Sinclair asked.

  Juliet smiled at the other woman. “Not at all. Actually, I’m thankful you volunteered to come. I’m from a large family, so I’m comfortable around children, but it’ll be good for them to have the company of a trusted friend as they become better acquainted with me.”

  “Very well.”

  Up in the schoolroom, Juliet helped the girls hold their quills correctly and gave them instructions on how she wanted them to write their letters before she sat down next to Lady Sinclair.

  “He’s not always like that,” Lady Sinclair blurted.

  Juliet didn’t know if she wanted to laugh at the woman’s blunt statement or sigh in relief. “How did you know he’s been acting beastly today?”

  “The way he cut Helena off earlier. He never does such a thing. It means he’s hiding something. What? I don’t know, but whatever it is, she knows and he doesn’t want her to tell you.”

  Juliet blinked at the woman. “How do you know so much about him?”

  “Caroline.”

  “Who?”

  “Marcus’ cousin. Other than the late Lady Drakely, I’d imagine Caroline knows him best, excluding Marcus, of course.”

  “All right,” Juliet said uncomfortably, not sure what to do with that information.

  Lady Sinclair sighed and bit her lip. “All right, I’ll tell you a secret, but you cannot pass it along to anyone else.”

  Juliet nodded.

  “When Caroline was younger, she had the biggest tendre for Drake I’ve ever witnessed. She was only eight or so when he started visiting Marcus at Ridge Water. Anyway, every time he’d come by, she’d study him the whole time and tell me all about it later.” She shook her head and smiled ruefully. “I learned far more about your husband during those years than I cared to. But alas, Caroline was the sister I always wanted and listening to her wax on for hours about him really wasn’t so bad.” She frowned. “Although I must admit, I could have done without the weeks’ worth of tears she cried after he married Abigail instead of her.”

  “Well, if your friend still has that particular desire, she is more than welcome to come take my place,” Juliet said with a grin.

  Lady Sinclair smiled sympathetically at Juliet. “She’s quite happy being married to someone else now. A better match for her, I’d say.”

  “Do you know anyone else who’d like the opportunity to be Lady Drakely?” There was really no reason for her to ask such an inane question, but she liked talking to Lady Sinclair.

  “I’m sorry. The only other person besides Caroline that I’ve known who wanted to marry him did.”

  Juliet nodded slowly. Likely he was different back then, less haughty, perhaps.

  Lady Sinclair reached her hand forward and squeezed Juliet’s arm. “I know he’s a little hard to approach at first, but give him time. He’s actually a very genuine and loving man.”

  It was all Juliet could do not to snort at that statement. She doubted that man loved anyone but himself. She sighed. That wasn’t true, and it was very unkind for her to think such a thought. Though it was clear Lord Presumptuous had no real affection for her, she should not assume he had no great affection for his daughters.

  A delicate cough caught Juliet’s attention. She looked over and met Lady Sinclair’s green gaze. “I know you’re not happy as things are right now, but I am. Caroline is and always will be my friend, but I’d like to think of you as a friend, as well.” She glanced away to look over at the girls for a moment. “I didn’t know the late Lady Drakely very well, but since our husbands are such good friends, I’d like us to be friends, too.”

  Juliet smiled at her. “I’d like that very much.”

  “Excellent! Then as my new
friend, you must start calling me Emma at once.”

  “Very well. And you must call me Juliet.” Even if her husband seemed a beast, he had made a good choice in choosing Lord Sinclair for a friend. She rather liked his wife and that was a welcome emotion under the circumstances.

  Chapter 9

  “Has your brain crawled out your ear?” Marcus asked before the door to Patrick’s study closed.

  “No.” Patrick plopped himself down in the chair behind his desk as gracefully as a pig flopping into a mud puddle. He shot his friend a self-deprecating smile. “My brain is still lodged in my skull. The only difference is, it’s no longer functioning in the same manner it once did. Instead of making rational and logical decisions, it would seem its sole purpose has become to ensure my skull does not implode.”

  Marcus shook his head. “What exactly have you done?”

  “Taken a bride.”

  “Yes, that much I already know.”

  Patrick shifted to get more comfortable in his chair. “What do you want to know?”

  “Why did you marry that woman?”

  Patrick blinked. Surely Marcus of all people would not be so superficial to see only Juliet’s not-quite-so-fetching looks. “She has a brain.”

  “Yes, something you seem to lack at the moment. Perhaps she’ll share hers with you.” He flashed Patrick a grin. “What I meant was why did you choose her?”

  “I already told you. She has a fine education,” Patrick said smoothly. He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk. “Besides, the girls seem to like her.”

  “Let me make sure I have this correct,” Marcus said, crossing his arms. “Since I last saw you―only a week ago―you have already remarried?”

  Patrick nodded and brought his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers. “Unlike you, I don’t hesitate to marry the woman I want.”

  Marcus winced at his words. “Are you actually trying to convince me you wanted to marry her?”

  “Of course.”

  Marcus’ sharp grey eyes impaled him. “Why?”