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Authors: Tessa Berkley

BOOK: Lord Heartless
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“I wish we’d met on more congenial circumstances.”

“As do I,” she said, then consciously pulled her fingers back hoping he would not detect her nervousness. “May I present the staff of Holly Grove?” She turned toward the left. “Our cook, Mrs. Branch. Beside her, our housekeeper, and her husband who is our groundskeeper, Mr. and Mrs. Nichols.” To her surprise, he stepped over and shook each hand, murmuring a greeting.

“I know you’ve had a long journey.” She looked to his solicitor and caught the man grinning at her nervousness with a bemused expression. Juliet glanced at the ground. She had fooled no one. Straightening her back, she resolved not to let her foolish heart over rule her mind. Her father would expect her to act as the lady of the house, and that she would do. Raising her head, she spoke. “We’ve prepared a small luncheon. Afterward, we shall show you the house and the grounds.”

“Of course.”

“If you will follow me.” Juliet took a half step toward the front door only to hear the
crunch
of gravel beneath a booted heel. She stopped and blinked as Lord Montague materialized at her side. He offered a glimmer of a smile and held out his arm.

“Milady?”

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Only when she recovered did she place a tentative hand upon the sleeve of his jacket. The muscle beneath was as hard as stone and it made her heart beat just a wee bit faster. Her eyes widened as his other hand moved to cover his chest.

“Lead on, Lady Gilbert, for I shall follow.”

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Landon sat at the head of the table, a sense of satisfaction building within his breast and radiating outward. Not only had he acquired a surprisingly well-kept house, the woman to his right was a picture of English perfection. He grasped the stem of the flute and let the wine hide the growing smile upon is lips. The reverend asked a question of Amos. Through the curve of the glass, he watched Juliet lean forward to listen. The afternoon sunlight caught the mass of ringlets encircling her head, creating a golden halo reminiscent of Madonna. Thank God, Gilbert  had a beauty for a daughter instead of a drudge. This would make his mission easier.

A smile spread across her delicate features. He stared at the liquid in the glass, musing that her face might have been sculpted by an artist’s hand. With that, he set his imagination free, conjuring the looks of envy as he escorted her to court or a turn around the park, perhaps an evening at the opera. Bathed in the day glow of his own musings, Landon startled when her hand brushed his arm. Glancing up, he found all eyes upon him.

“Lord Montague, Reverend Phelps asked you a question.”

He looked to the stout gentleman on his left. “Indeed, sir, I beg your pardon. I was a million miles away contemplating a business deal.”

“Perhaps no more than two feet, right.” He heard Amos’s low voice tease from his left.

Heat crawled past his cravat. He leveled a silencing glare before shifting his gaze back to the minister. “Pray, please ask again.”

“I merely asked if you had plans for Holly Grove.”

“Ah, I must admit, I did not expect to find the manor in such good shape.” He glanced toward Juliet. “Forgive me, Lady Juliet, but you appear to have a gift for management. I applaud you.”

At his compliment, she blushed. He decided that rose was his new favorite color. A moment lapsed as he studied the shade upon her cheek, and then realizing the company waited, he continued. “I would like to clean up the grounds and keep it as a residence.” Landon lifted the corners of his mouth. “Something away from London, I think. Something tells me, I might enjoy the serenity of country life.”

Juliet’s head turned with a snap. The reverend blinked. Even Amos’s brow careened toward his hairline.
Good, I have caught them all off guard
.

“You surprise me, Lord Montague.” The reverend’s plump wife interrupted the silence.

“Do I?” He drew his eyes wide in mock disbelief.

“I must agree,” Reverend Phelps said. “Forgive me, but with your reputation—”

“Ah, that.” Landon pressed his lips together. “I am afraid my deeds are highly exaggerated.”

Beside him, Juliet’s voice seemed to scold. “Are they?”

He glanced to his right. A shimmer of ice resided in her scathing glance. “Like any man, I enjoy a good warm fire, a game of cards now and then.” He lifted the wineglass. “Not to mention a glass of fine wine.”

“And the accompaniment of beautiful women,” she added primly, placing her hands in her lap and keeping her eyes upon the plate.

Her candor was a surprise. Landon sat back and placed glass on the table before turning to face her. “What man would not?”

She met his glance without flinching. A small rush of breath passed through that delicate, heart-shaped mouth.

“What Lady Juliet, you mock me?” He pulled his right hand to his chest.

“Mock you?” She bristled.

Landon watched as her long dainty fingers took hold of the linen and twisted it in to her fist. He wondered if she’d like to do the same to his neck.

“You, sir, not hardly. Yet, I do expect the truth. You sit here at what used to be my table and pretend to be a gentleman, whilst the ownership of my home transferred through a hand of cards, as easily as one takes possession of a trade. You knew that my father was well into his cups, and you did nothing to stop his bids. Forgive me Your Grace, but your”— she paused to search for the right words, then continued— “business practices indicate the opposite.”

Landon watched the rigid carriage of her shoulders and deep down the manly part of him thrilled to the fire flashing in her blue-green eyes.
By heavens, to bed this woman and teach her the art of love would be a worthwhile effort
.

“Lady Juliet,” he began, knowing that his words must be chosen with extreme care. “Let me take a moment to assure you I knew not of your existence or your father’s precarious financial status. I did not press Lord Gilbert to drink, or have a hand in the manipulation of cards that ended in my advantage. It was a mere game of chance. Your father had the right to withdraw with any hand played. He chose not to.”

“Because he was no doubt intoxicated and an easy mark,” she reminded him.

Landon glanced to Amos who rolled his eyes and lifted his napkin to wipe his lips. Using a conciliatory tone, he offered a slight apology. “In hindsight, I wish I might have known his difficulties with drink or in finance, for I would have forced him to recount the wager immediately rather than deny you your house.”

For a moment, he wondered if she believed his words. Her eyes narrowed. The rapid breathing that raised her breasts subsided. Juliet glanced down at her plate, her tongue damped her lips. “Forgive my doubt.”

He reached over and placed a palm upon her still-clenched hand. “I would forgive you anything.” At his words, he could feel her pulse quicken as a silence settled over the table.

Amos cleared his throat. “Perhaps this is a good time to see the grounds if you wish to keep the manor?”

“Yes, I think you are right.” Her hand retreated from his and she turned her gaze to his solicitor.

A pang of jealousy filled his breast. Landon wanted nothing more than enjoy the depth of her smile. He placed his napkin on his plate. “Yes, I am curious to see more of Holly Grove. Lady Juliet, would you do the honors?”

“Of course.” She made ready to scoot her chair back.

Landon rose and made a quick grasp of the back, easing it from the table. “I am thinking of perhaps moving my stables. Tell me, this looks like fine horse country.”

“It is.” The reverend stood and helped his wife rise. “Many a Darby winner has been sired in the surrounding countryside.”

“Excellent.” He smiled and looked to Juliet, hoping to see approval. She lowered her eyes and turned away, denying his anticipation.

“We shall need our cloaks.” Juliet turned toward the doorway.

He paused and allowed her to lead the party out. As he followed, Amos reached out to grasp his arm.

“What are you up to?” his lawyer asked, lowering his voice so that no one else could hear.

“Wooing.” Landon arched his brow as if he thought his friend mad.

“That girl is not a milkmaid fresh from the farm. There’s substance behind that beautiful face and innocent blue eyes, or have you been too rattled by her unblemished complexion to notice?”

“They are blue, aren’t they?” Landon grinned. This time there was no hiding the excitement in his voice.

The man’s hand flew from his coat sleeve as if burned “Don’t be a fool, Landon. She will not go quietly to your marriage bed and you can ill afford another scandal if she does not agree.”

“Afraid you’ll lose your retainer?” Landon reached over the table and pocketed several sugar cubes.

“You know I’m not.” Amos shook his head. “You, however, are a magnet for disaster when it comes to women. Do not forget your dealings with Alexander’s mother or Lady Scarborough’s manipulations. You cannot let sentiment get in the way of business, nor can you sully her nature and walk away. Neither your mother nor the Ton will stand for it. If you intend to marry, it will have to be legitimate.”

“Business is it, Mr. Black?” Landon seethed. “I think I should have paid a bit more attention to my card partners and I would not be in this situation.” Seeing Amos open his mouth, Landon raised a hand. He could ill afford to lose his temper. Taking a breath, he pulled his vest straight and calmed his nerves. With his next words, he took the responsibility for his actions. “Such that it is, I shall make the most of it and do right by this young woman.”

They stared at one another. Landon could almost read the surprise in Amos’s face.

“Lord Montague, are you coming?” the reverend called from the hallway.

Landon put a finger to his lips. “I want no more of this talk. Do you hear me? I will not have her hear of it. I plan to find an opportunity to propose the question of marriage this very afternoon whether I have your support or not. Is that clear?” He waited. Only when Amos nodded did he moved to the door.

 

***

 

Juliet, doing her best to remain calm around Lord Montague, led them around toward the rear of the manor where two neat plots of tilled ground stood just beyond the kitchen door. “Our herb and flower gardens are just behind the kitchen. Our staff prides themselves on fresh ingredients for each dish as well as fresh flowers in season for each room. Perhaps you took notice of the centerpiece at luncheon. That was done by Mrs. Nichols.”

“Very nice. Your staff seems to have just as many talents as you, milady.”

Juliet smiled at Lord Montague’s comment. “I’m very proud of our staff. If you’ll follow me, this path leads to the stables.” Pulling her skirts out of the way so as not to trip, she took a step downward only to find a tentative hand upon her elbow.

“Allow me.”

She glanced at Lord Montague and nodded. Falling into step, they continued on in silence in the direction of the brick structure surrounded by a stone fence at the base of the hill.

“You have lived here all your life?”

“I have.”

He paused and she stopped. Head down, looking at his feet. “We are in a unique situation, you and I.”

“Unique?” she questioned. “How?”

Lord Montague took a deep breath. “You must forgive me, Lady Juliet, in light of the circumstances around your father’s death, I took the liberty of finding some information about you.”

“Circumstances is the new fashionable word, is it?” Her lips pressed together. “Surely it was common knowledge my father lost his mind after my mother’s death and retreated to his cups. Isn’t that why he received an invitation to the club and why he was so often invited to play at cards? A fox will seldom prey on something hard to get.”

“Is that what you think of me, Lady Gilbert?”

She looked away. “My sincere apology, I’m afraid I have grown cynical of late.” She brushed a strand of hair from her face. “In truth, Lord Montague, you would have been remiss had not you or Mr. Black checked the circumstances.”

“No apology necessary, my dear. You’ve probably had a very trying time.”

She lifted a brow, dismissing his observation as she took another step toward the barn. “I’m afraid you must have found me boring.”

Landon followed. “On the contrary, I find it interesting that you have yet to experience a season. Should you choose to have one, I would be more than happy….”

She shook her head. “No. You need not go further.”

Expression baffled, he asked, “Are you sure? Surely girls your age would find it divine to believe that men of London might swoon at your feet or tripping over themselves with an offer of marriage.”

“Then you shall be mistaken. I am nothing more than a simple country lass. I do not wish to be on parade like a broodmare in a local bazaar.”

Her remark brought a chuckle to his lips. “Simple is not a word I would use to describe you. However, your simile is quite good.”

“Then that would be your first mistake.” Lord Montague was teasing her, the rogue. Still, the tiny bit of flattery lifted her spirits. “You jest, but thank you.”

“All right, I shall cross off a season in London. Pray, is there a young gentleman holding you here?”

“Are you asking if I have a suitor?” They sauntered slowly toward the path that would lead down to the stables.

“I am.”

A gust of wind swirled long forgotten leaves before them. He placed a hand on her arm and they waited for them to pass. His touch caused her heart to beat erratically as if caught in a surge of enthusiasm. “No, there is no suitor.”

“I am glad,” he said.

What could he be getting at?
She had no other course but to ask. “Are you?” Her direct stare made him flinch and look away.

No answer followed. Just as she thought, empty words. “This way,” she said, and they turned toward the stables.

“Only one horse?” He looked over the paddock as a bay trotted toward them.

“Just one. His name is Admiral.” She extended her hand to rub the velvet of his dark nose. “He carries us to the market or to church.”

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