Silk and Secrets(14)

"Very well." Ross rose and pulled on his battered coat. "By the way, am I a prisoner?"

Juliet gave him a startled look. "Of course not." Then she bit her lip, knowing there was no "of course" about it, not after the way she had treated him earlier. "I'll take you to your room. Your things should be there already."

Silently Ross followed her through the sprawling building to the suite of rooms assigned to him. Inside were his saddle and the luggage from the packhorse.

After giving directions to the men's bathhouse, Juliet said, "Until an hour after sunset. I shall send someone for you."

It flashed through her mind that every other time they had stood at the entrance of a bedroom, they had been going in together, not separating. Ross's enigmatic expression suggested that he was thinking along the same lines.

Juliet pivoted and strode off without looking back, forcing herself to move at walking speed rather than running for her life. She turned the corner into another passage, walked the length, then turned again. The palace had many fewer inhabitants now than in its heyday, and this section was usually empty. Finally she was alone, for the first time since she had discovered Ross.

The resolve that had carried her through the last several hours crumbled away and she leaned against the wall, her knees so weak they would barely support her. Dear God, Ross was right. It would have been infinitely easier if he had never learned who she was... and Juliet had no one to blame but herself for giving away her identity.

She clung to the wall, shaking, her cheek pressed to the rough plaster and her breath coming in shallow gasps. If only she hadn't decided to goad him! True, she had been concerned about his injuries, as well as frustrated by his cool detachment, but the underlying reason for her appalling behavior had been anger. Once more her damnable redhead's temper had gotten away from her, and her action had backfired, as anger so often did.

Her rage had not been for Ross himself, but rather for his presence. Juliet had spent years striving to rebuild her life, to find contentment, and in an instant her husband had shattered both. He had a whole world to wander; why the devil did he have to turn up in her own front yard?

Ross would have died if it hadn't been for the timely appearance of Juliet and her men, so she could not regret this particular twist of fate. But she had still been angry, and her misdirected rage at life's unfairness had caused her to treat him like merchandise at a slave mart.

Ironically, her shocked reaction to the ugly scars of the old bullet wound had prolonged the moment and made it seem more threatening than she had intended. As a result, she had infuriated a man who was known for his easy disposition and condemned herself to what would be a deeply painful confrontation. Worst of all, by seeing and touching Ross's beautiful, familiar body, she had reawakened feelings that she had tried to bury a dozen years before....

Juliet had hated making her debut in London society. She was too tall and gawky, her red hair was a flaming, inglorious beacon, and her background too unconventional for her to be a social success. The fact that she hadn't wanted that kind of success did not make her humiliating failure any less painful.

Without Sara St. James, the Season would have driven Juliet mad. Lady Sara would have been popular even if she had not been a great heiress, for she was everything Juliet was not: petite, lovely in a graceful, feminine way, and possessed of a quiet charm that made everyone she met feel important and honored.

Their schoolgirl friendship could easily have foundered on the shoals of society. Instead, Sara had done every thing she could to ease Juliet's way, insisting that her friend be included in invitations and coaxing her own numerous admirers to dance with Miss Cameron. Juliet had not liked being an object of charity, but the alternative would have been far worse, and she knew that Sara was acting from genuine kindness.

Juliet had heard often about Sara's favorite cousin, Lord Ross Carlisle, but had never met him. Then she had gone to a noisy, crowded ball at a house whose name she no longer remembered. Sara had been swept off by the attractive youth she was falling in love with. Juliet had found a quiet corner and was trying not to look as awkward and uncomfortable as she felt.

Then a young man was brought over by Juliet's Aunt Louise, who was her sponsor and chaperone for the Season. The stranger was very tall and sinfully handsome, with butter-blond hair and an air of quiet confidence. From Aunt Louise's fawning deference, he was also rich and wellborn.

The ballroom was so noisy that Juliet had not caught the young man's name when he was introduced. While she did not particularly want to dance with the fellow, standing alone was worse, so she had ungraciously accepted his invitation.