Page 2 of After the Abduction

Juliet tensed. “Now see here, you will hold to your promise, won’t you?”

When Griff kept silent, Rosalind asked, “What promise?”

Griff looked a jot uncomfortable, not a good sign at all. Juliet glared at him. “Griff swore not to duel with Morgan or drag him back to London for a trial.”

“He won’t do either of those,” Rosalind said easily. “Both would create a scandal that would ruin you, dearest, and Griff would never risk that.”

“Griff?” she prodded.

“Damnation, Juliet, you know I won’t do anything to shame you or your sisters,” he grumbled. “But I will see that scoundrel pay.”

“As long as you don’t challenge him,” Juliet said, “I don’t care what you do.”

Her brother-in-law forced a smile. “Challenging him would be the height of foolishness, anyway. I don’t suppose either of you have ever heard of the Templemore cartridge?”

The women looked at him blankly.

“It’s a device for pistols that combines gunpowder, ball, and priming in one unit. The baron invented it. When he demonstrated its use in London six months ago for the Royal Society, he hit every target dead center. Since Pryce probably learned from his benefactor how to shoot, I’m not such a fool as to challenge him.”

“I’m sure Griff will handle the matter with discretion and gentlemanly calm,” Rosalind remarked, patting her husband’s hand.

Juliet caught Griff narrowing his eyes, and groaned. She wanted justice, but she’d already put her family through hell once. And though they’d covered up her mortifying elopement/kidnapping without a word of scandal two years ago, as long as Morgan remained free her reputation, and thus all her hope for future happiness, would never be safe.

That had become painfully clear a month ago, when out of the blue whispers had begun circulating among the wags in London. Hints that she’d once been “illicitly involved” with a man. “I don’t understand why Morgan had to start spreading tales and dredging up the past after all this time.”

“No one has actually attributed the rumors to him,” Rosalind said.

“But who else, other than us, knows the truth?” This latest betrayal wounded her even more than his initial one, rubbing salt in a wound already well salted. How could she have been so very wrong about him? “No, it’s Morgan, all right. And when I get my hands on him, I’ll make him tell me why. I shall make him stop!”

Griff laughed harshly. “How do you propose to do that? Beat him with a duster? Poke him in the eye with an embroidery needle?”

Her brother-in-law’s condescension made Juliet grit her teeth. She cast him her loftiest look. “I realize that you think I’ll take one look at Morgan and melt into a puddle the way I did before—”

“He doesn’t think that at all,” Rosalind broke in.

“—but I learned my lesson very well two years ago.”

“Yes, exactly,” Rosalind said softly. “That’s why we’re here.”

Her sister’s compassionate look made Juliet wince, then glance away. At eighteen, she hadn’t minded her family’s smothering so much, but now that she was twenty it was near to suffocating her. Undoubtedly, they worried that she’d run off with some other scoundrel if they didn’t hover over her. For goodness sake, she’d learned a few things about men in the past two years.

Before Morgan came along, she’d believed in the essential goodness of people. That if you treated them well, they would reward your kindness with good behavior.

Before Morgan came along, she’d been a fool. Kept in blissful innocence at her family’s estate, Swan Park, she’d never realized how devious and hurtful and betraying some people could be. It was the one good thing Morgan had taught her.

Two years in society had finished her education. Watching badly matched couples parade through London had constantly reminded her how close she’d come to disaster by believing in Morgan’s good character. And seeing the games everyone played had forced her to sharpen her wits for fear she’d say or do something again to shame her family.

She was wiser now, more careful whom she trusted. She tried hard not to let her naturally tender heart get her into trouble, even if sometimes she missed the innocent part of herself that had died two years ago.

Rosalind apparently caught her scowling, for she said gently, “You mustn’t fret so. It’ll all be fine, I’m sure.” Then she tapped her neglected tambour. “Why don’t you help me with this? It will take your mind off this sordid business. Besides, I’m at a complete loss as to how to proceed.”

“What a shock,” Griff said dryly.

Rosalind glared at her husband. “I do have some domestic ability, you know.”

His smile turned wicked. “You do indeed. But my favorite is not your needleworking skills, my darling.”

With a roll of her eyes, Rosalind held the tambour out to Juliet. “All the same, I’d like to expand my repertoire.”