Tall, Dark & Irresistible: The Rogue's Disgraced Lady

Oh, yes, Juliet longed to tell someone of those things, but knew that she never would ….

‘I thank you for the offer, Dolly.’ She smiled, to take any offence from her refusal. ‘But for the moment I would much rather discuss how I am to go about apologising to Lord St Claire for this latest misunderstanding.’

If Dolly was disappointed in Juliet’s determination not to talk about the past, then she gave no indication of it as she instead laughed huskily. ‘Oh, my dear, you must not be so eager to concede that you were in the wrong. Men are fond of believing themselves in the right of it, you know, and to eat a little humble pie on occasion does them no harm whatsoever.’

Despite her earlier tension, Juliet found herself laughing at Dolly’s nonsense. ‘But in this case Lord St Claire was in the right of it …’

‘I did not say you have to punish him for ever, my dear.’ Dolly gave her a conspiratorial smile. ‘Just long enough for him to feel the cold chill of your displeasure. The ball I am giving tomorrow evening should be time enough to allow yourself to forgive him.’

Juliet raised dark brows. ‘So I am to forgive him, then?’

‘Of course.’ Dolly gave a gracious inclination of her head. ‘I have found with Bancroft that it is by far the best way. By the time I have finished forgiving him he is usually so befuddled he has quite forgotten that he was not actually to blame for our fall-out, and is just grateful that we are … friends again!’

Juliet felt colour warm her cheeks as she realised what sort of friendship the other woman was alluding to. ‘You quite misunderstand my relationship with Lord St Claire—’

‘It is still early days yet, Juliet,’ Dolly pointed out.

She shook her head. ‘I assure you I have no intention of ever becoming that sort of friend with Sebastian St Claire.’

Or any other man ….

Sebastian’s expression remained outwardly calm as the Earl talked. Which was not to say that he was not disturbed by the older man’s conversation—only he had no intention of revealing his own thoughts at Bancroft’s talk of agents of the Crown and treachery.

Bancroft, it appeared, had for some years been involved in such a network of agents, of which Gray—a man Sebastian had known since childhood—appeared to be a member! Dolly, too, if Sebastian understood the Earl correctly; all those years Dolly had been the mistress of one member of the aristocracy or another she had been reporting information back to Bancroft!

‘So it appears Crestwood was either responsible himself for passing along privileged information, or it was someone else close to him in whom he confided,’ Bancroft finished gravely.

Sebastian realised he had been guilty of allowing his thoughts to wander. But, hell, what man would not when confronted with such a fantastic tale? ‘Let me see if I understand this clearly. You are saying that Crestwood, or someone close to him, for years passed along privileged information to the French? That such information was used to forestall several English efforts to defeat Bonaparte, and also to aid the Corsican’s escape from Elba two years ago?’

‘I am saying exactly that,’ the Earl confirmed.

Sebastian’s brother Lucian had resigned his commission in the army when Bonaparte had finally surrendered, but he had returned to duty the following year, along with his fellow officers, in order to participate in the battle at Waterloo, following Napoleon’s escape from Elba. Lucian had returned from that last battle a hard and embittered man, and most of his friends had not returned at all ….

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. ‘You also believe that this “someone close” to the earl was his wife? That if the heroic Crestwood did not do it, then it must therefore have been Juliet who was the traitor?’

Gray frowned. ‘Crestwood was a hero and a gentleman, Seb. But he was not a man who had close friends as you and I do. In effect, there was no other person close to him except his countess. Now Crestwood is conveniently dead, and so unable to deny or admit these allegations.’

Sebastian stood up restlessly. ‘You are claiming that Lady Boyd deliberately pushed Crestwood down the stairs to his death in order to cover up her duplicity?’

His friend nodded. ‘It is reasonable to suppose that Crestwood finally discovered his wife’s treachery, and that when he confronted her with it, she pushed him down the stairs to stop him from making her conduct public.’

‘Is it not a simpler explanation that the man was foxed?’

‘The man did not drink strong liquor of any kind.’

‘Then perhaps he fell.’

‘He stood the deck of his own ship for over twenty years—are you seriously expecting us, or anyone else, to believe that he lost his balance at the top of his own staircase?’ Gray calmed with effort. ‘Besides, several of the servants heard the sounds of an argument only minutes before the Earl’s fall.’

Sebastian gave a disdainful snort. ‘Servants have been known to say anything if they believe it might earn them a guinea or two!’

‘No such bribery was offered,’ the Earl assured him.

Still Sebastian could not countenance the idea that Juliet was guilty of deliberately murdering her husband, let alone of treason. Although the sacrifice Lucian and his friends had made during the war said he had to hear Bancroft out … ‘The man was such a prig that he had no real friends, and such a paragon that he did not drink alcohol. Therefore it must be his wife who is the one guilty of treason? Of pushing Crestwood to his death so that he could not reveal her perfidy?’ Sebastian shook his head. ‘That seems to be rather a leap to have made on so little evidence, gentlemen.’

‘There is more, St Claire.’ The Earl’s tone immediately drew Sebastian’s attention. ‘Lady Boyd’s aunt, the sister of her mother, lived in France with her French husband—Pierre Jourdan. As a child, Juliet Chatterton spent many summers in France, with this aunt and uncle and her young female cousin.’

‘Does that mean that every English man or woman who has connections with the French, however tenuous, is suspect? My own valet is French. Does that make me guilty of treason, too?’

‘You are not taking this at all as I had hoped, St Claire.’ The Earl looked most unhappy with Sebastian’s response.

Possibly because Sebastian would much rather not think of Juliet in the role Bancroft and Gray had chosen to thrust her into!

She was full of defensive bristles, yes. But what woman would not be when she had come to Banford Park knowing she was entering the lions’ den? That all of Society believed her as guilty of killing her husband as Bancroft and Gray so obviously did? But Sebastian had seen that air of vulnerability and fear that Juliet was normally at such pains to disguise.

Until now Sebastian had assumed that fear to have somehow been caused by Crestwood’s treatment of her during their marriage, but logically it could likewise be apprehension at the thought of discovery …

Two weeks ago he had told Dolly that he did not care one way or the other whether or not Juliet had killed her husband, but his loyalty for Lucian said he should take Bancroft’s suggestion of treason much more seriously.

‘The Countess’s young cousin arrived in England six years ago, after her parents were killed during a raid by French soldiers on their manor home,’ Bancroft continued remorselessly. ‘The girl was held prisoner by the French for a week before managing to escape and flee to England. We can only guess at what she must have suffered at the soldiers’ hands.’

‘Would those events not mean that Juliet Boyd has every reason to hate the French rather than aid them?’ Sebastian pounced on this inconsistency in their argument.

‘Alternatively, she may have been responsible for betraying her relatives to the French because she knew of their sympathies towards the English,’ Bancroft pointed out.

Sebastian felt a coldness slither down the length of his spine at the thought of the beautiful Juliet betraying her family and husband—his brother Lucian and his fellow soldiers, too—in the way Bancroft described. It could not be true. Could it?

‘There is something else, St Claire,’ the Earl added.

‘Go on,’ he rasped.

‘Two weeks ago a missive to a known French agent was intercepted by one of my own agents. It read simply, “Active again. J.”’

Active again. J.

And the missive had been sent two weeks ago.

The exact time Dolly had issued her invitation to Juliet to attend this summer house party ….

‘I have always believed, my dear Juliet, that if a woman decides to take a lover then she should at least ensure he is an accomplished one,’ Dolly Bancroft advised archly.

Juliet’s cheeks burned at the thought of the intimacies she had already allowed Sebastian St Claire. Intimacies Juliet had shared with no other man ….

She shook her head. ‘I assure you I have no intention of taking a lover.’

‘Why would you not?’ The other woman looked scandalised. ‘You have been widowed these last eighteen months, Juliet; do not tell me you do not miss the pleasure of having a virile man in your bed?’

How could Juliet miss something she had never known? Something she had only begun to guess at since Sebastian had touched and caressed her …?

Would this burning in her cheeks ever stop? ‘I am not sure this is a—an altogether fitting conversation, Dolly.’

‘I am sure it is not!’ Her hostess laughed naughtily. ‘But men, I am sure, discuss such things at their clubs all the time, so why should the ladies not do the same when alone together? I can claim with all honesty that Bancroft is a wonderful lover. Was Crestwood the same?’

‘Dolly!’ Juliet gasped weakly.

The other woman’s gaze was shrewdly searching. ‘I see by your reaction that he was not.’ She gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘How disappointing for you. I am of the opinion that being proficient in the art of lovemaking is as important for a man to learn as running an estate or riding a horse.’

Juliet really was unused to such frank and intimate conversation. ‘Crestwood ran his estate with precision, and he could ride a horse, as well as any man.’

‘Then it was only as a lover that he failed to please?’ Dolly nodded knowingly. ‘One only has to look at St Claire to know how wonderful he would be as a lover. The width of his shoulders. His muscled chest and the flatness of his stomach. As for the pleasure promised by his powerful hips and thighs … My dear, I am sure he is virile enough to keep even the most demanding of women happy in his bed!’

All this talk of pleasure and virile men, and most especially of Sebastian St Claire’s bed, was only increasing Juliet’s discomfort. But in a way that made her breasts swell beneath her gown and their tips harden as she once again felt that strange warmth between her thighs she had known when Sebastian had touched and caressed her so intimately the evening before ….

Sebastian’s mouth thinned. ‘I agree the truth needs to be established. But,’ he added firmly, ‘I refuse to condemn Lady Boyd on what amounts to superficial evidence.’

William Bancroft gave an inclination of his head. ‘I am pleased to hear it.’

Sebastian’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. ‘You are?’

‘But of course.’ The older man resumed his seat behind the leather-topped desk. ‘That is the very reason we are having this conversation.’

‘Explain yourself, if you please.’

‘Seb—’

‘Do not concern yourself, Grayson,’ the Earl interjected. ‘St Claire is quite right to advise caution. To accuse someone of treason is a serious business. And while Lady Boyd—this French agent—remained inactive, indeed there was no need for haste. The fact that she—or he—is now back amongst us, prepared to take up their treasonous role once more, has changed things somewhat. I should, of course, have had this conversation with you some weeks ago, St Claire, when you first spoke to my wife concerning your interest in the Countess of Crestwood. I delayed doing so only because I felt it best to wait and see if the lady returned your interest.’

‘She does not.’

‘Oh, we believe that she does.’ The earl smiled knowingly.

‘Then you believe wrongly.’ Sebastian glared coldly at the older man. ‘Lady Boyd has strongly resisted all my advances.’

‘She is naturally cautious, I admit.’ The older man nodded. ‘But I have known the lady for some years, dined with her and Crestwood on a number of occasions, and as such I have had ample time in which to study her. She is a woman of reticence. Of reserve. So much so that she is polite to all but allows none close to her. You have managed to breach that reserve on several occasions in the last few days, I believe …?’

‘Damn it, I refuse to discuss a lady in this way!’

‘You do not need to do so, St Claire. Dolly is talking with Lady Boyd even as we speak. I have no doubt that she will ably ascertain whether or not the lady has developed a … tendre for you.’

‘You go too far, sir!’ Sebastian could never remember feeling so angry with anyone before.

‘I go as far as I need!’ the Earl assured him evenly. ‘If Lady Boyd is guilty of all we suspect, then I consider my actions as necessary as a soldier’s in battle when confronted with the enemy.’

‘If she is guilty!’ Sebastian repeated pointedly. ‘Until you have positive proof of that I, for one, will not condemn the lady.’

‘I was hoping that you might feel that way ….’

He eyed the older man suspiciously, even as a nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘Exactly what are you suggesting …?’

William Bancroft eyed him speculatively. ‘Why, that you find some way to go about either proving or disproving the lady’s innocence, of course.’

‘Some way? What way do you have in mind, exactly?’ Sebastian wanted to know.

The other man shrugged. ‘A man and a woman are apt to discuss many things once the bedding is over.’

Sebastian stared at the other man as if he had gone completely insane. Bancroft must be insane if he really thought that Sebastian could play Juliet so false. Was this Dolly’s idea of what Sebastian should do in order to change his life from one of idleness and pleasure?

Family. Honour. Loyalty to friends …

Those were the things Sebastian had last night informed Juliet Boyd he took seriously. To behave in the way William Bancroft described—to bed Juliet, make love to her, with the sole intention of discovering her innocence or guilt in treason and murder—would be to behave completely without honour.

But if the Countess of Crestwood really was as guilty as Bancroft seemed to think, then did not Sebastian also owe it to Lucian, to all his brother’s friends, so many of whom had fallen at Waterloo, to apprehend someone who might have been instrumental in aiding Bonaparte’s escape from Elba and so precipitated that bloody battle?

Which left loyalty to friends …

The Earl gave a weary sigh. ‘I am well aware of what we ask of you, St Claire, and appreciate that you will need some time to think on it.’

‘Why do you not merely question the lady and be done with it?’ Sebastian, despite that loyalty he felt towards Lucian, was still loath to agree to such a nefarious and ungentlemanly plan.

‘As I have already explained, while Agent J was inactive there was no haste to do anything but keep a silent watch. Now that Agent J is active again we stand a chance of locating and ultimately arresting a whole network of French agents. Besides, at this moment in time we do not have enough evidence to either question the Countess in connection with treason and murder or indeed clear her name of all such charges.’

He was asking Sebastian to find and then produce that evidence ….

His gaze narrowed on the two men. ‘And if I had not succeeded in finding favour with the Countess? Who was to take my place in her bed then? You, Gray?’ He looked accusingly at the other man, knowing by the way Gray moved uncomfortably in his chair that his surmise was a correct one. ‘You are both mad, I think!’

‘Your own brother returned from Waterloo, Seb. Mine did not.’ Gray’s face was pale and tense.

Sebastian’s fingers involuntarily clenched into purposeful bunches of five. What would Hawk do in such a situation? What would Lucian do if offered the chance of avenging some of the friends he’d lost at Waterloo?

‘And if I refuse?’ He eyed the Earl warily.

‘Then be assured I will take your place, Seb,’ Gray told him bluntly. ‘I feel no reservation, no hesitation in attempting to woo and win the Countess’s confidence. I will bed her, too, if it will give us the answers we require.’

Gray to flatter and charm Juliet? Gray to seduce her? To bed her? Never!

‘I feel no hesitation, either, in giving you both my answer,’ Sebastian said stiffly.

Gray sat forward anxiously. ‘Seb, I ask that you do not act in haste—’

‘You no longer have any part in this conversation, Gray,’ he told his friend. ‘The two of us will talk together at some later date about the role you have played in this farce.’ A later date when Sebastian was not so angry he felt like striking Gray rather than talking to him, his steely tone warned! He turned back to Lord Bancroft. ‘I will endeavour to engage the Countess’s interest further,’ he accepted, feeling utter distaste for such deceit. ‘But only on the understanding that I do this for Juliet Boyd’s own sake, and not your own,’ he added firmly. ‘When I have assured you of her innocence, I will then expect you to apologise both to her and to me.’

If Sebastian succeeded in assuring these two men of Juliet’s innocence ….

Chapter Seven

‘You look perfectly lovely this evening, Juliet.’ Helena beamed at her approvingly as Juliet stood in front of the cheval mirror, studying her reflection.

Her cousin, restless from being confined to her room for two days now, had this evening insisted that she was recovered sufficiently from her fall to come downstairs and help Juliet prepare for dinner. Juliet knew she should have insisted that Helena rest her ankle further, but she had nevertheless appreciated her cousin’s help in dressing and arranging her hair. She wanted to look her best this evening.

Following her candid conversation earlier today with Dolly Bancroft, she had decided to give Sebastian St Claire the opportunity in which to make his apologies to her, at least. The rest of Dolly’s advice she was less sure about!

Unfortunately there had been no opportunity to see or speak with Lord St Claire after talking to Dolly. He had gone out riding late this morning, and had not returned until much later in the afternoon. So this evening would be the first available opportunity Juliet would have to see him again. And for him to see her.

Dolly had advised that Juliet take Sebastian as her lover. The question was, did Juliet wish to take a lover? Not if, as she had always thought, all men were as brutish as Crestwood had been! Dolly’s description of her own relationship with William Bancroft seemed to imply that they were not, but still Juliet felt uneasy—

She was getting far ahead of herself!

After their two fallings out there was absolutely no reason to presume that Sebastian still wished to become her lover ….

Sebastian paid little attention to his fellow guests as they gathered in the drawing room before dinner, his mood not improved since that morning, despite riding for an hour across the countryside in order that he might pay an unexpected call upon Lucian and his bride of less than one month at their own Hampshire estate.

The recently married couple had welcomed him most warmly; it had been Sebastian’s own distraction that had prevented him from enjoying the visit. Within a few minutes of his arrival Sebastian had known that he should not have gone there. Lucian was so obviously happy with his bride, and Sebastian’s word to Bancroft prevented him from discussing with his brother any of the conversation of this morning in any case.

There was no one, it seemed—not Lucian, not Gray, not Dolly—with whom Sebastian could talk about the web of intrigue in which he now found himself entangled.

The fact that Juliet Boyd looked breathtaking and innocently lovely as she entered the drawing room at that moment did not improve Sebastian’s temper. To such an extent that he realised he was actually scowling across the room at her as she fell into conversation with the Duchess of Essex.

Juliet’s gown this evening was of cream satin and lace that complemented perfectly the pearly translucence of her skin, its low neckline revealing the full swell of her breasts. The darkness of her hair was arranged artfully in tiny curls about the beauty of her face and nape, the green of her eyes made all the deeper by a fringe of thick dark lashes and her mouth a full and sensuous pout.

Sebastian stiffened as she turned and seemed deliberately to meet his gaze, leaving him with no other choice but to make an abrupt bow of acknowledgement before turning immediately away again, his hands clenching tightly at his sides.

This was going to be so much harder than he had imagined if he could not even bring himself to relax when Juliet was only in the same room as himself. How on earth would he get close enough to her to ascertain her innocence if he did not get a firmer grip on his emotions? After all, he was ultimately doing this with the intention of proving her innocence to those who seemed all too ready to believe in her guilt.

‘Good evening, Lord St Claire.’

For the first time in their acquaintance Juliet Boyd had approached him! Yesterday Sebastian would have rejoiced in that fact. Today he could not rid himself of the weight of duplicity pressing down upon him so heavily.

‘Can it be that you are still angry with me, My Lord …?’

Juliet felt nervous, and not a little foolish, as she attempted to flirt with Sebastian. She had watched other women do it for years, of course, but it was a different matter entirely to behave in such a fashion herself. There had been little occasion for her to do so during her one and only Season, and Edward would have dealt with her most severely if he had so much as suspected her of flirtation during their marriage.

But if she and Lord St Claire did not talk to each other, how was he to be persuaded into making his apologies to her?

He looked so very handsome this evening, too, in a tailored black superfine, snowy white linen beneath a waistcoat of the palest silver, white pantaloons fitted quite shamefully to the long muscled length of his hips and thighs, and polished black Hessians.

Ordinarily Juliet knew she would not have noticed how perfectly a man’s clothes were tailored to him. That she did so now where Sebastian was concerned was due, she had no doubt, to the candidness of Dolly Bancroft’s conversation that morning.

Juliet felt warm just looking at him as she recalled that conversation. She was totally aware of the width of his shoulders and muscled chest. The flatness of his stomach. The promised power of his thighs …

Oh, dear Lord!

Juliet flicked her fan open and wafted it up and down in front of her face in an effort to cool her burning cheeks.

His gaze was narrowed as he looked down at her. ‘I believe it is you who were angry with me, ma’am,’ he pointed out rather curtly.

Juliet tried to remember how, over the years, she had seen other women behave in the presence of such an attractive man as he.

A glance from beneath lowered lashes, perhaps?

No, that had only made him scowl all the more!

A mysterious little smile that hinted at invitation?

No, that had only made him narrow his gaze on her questioningly!

Perhaps she should just be herself, after all? Sebastian had seemed to find that attractive enough yesterday evening, when he’d made love to her so illicitly.