"Victor Roland brought me home?" John nearly shouted.
Juliet's mouth fell open. How dare her brother lash out at her in this way? She'd had nothing to do with the events that brought John to his own bed. "You were . . . incapacitated. He knocked on our door, and then I helped him get you up the stairs."
John shoved his covers aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The color drained from his face at the effort. "How dare you let that vile man enter my home and set foot onto my floors? Let alone come into my most private chamber!"
Her face heated. "You weren't exactly in a position to make your opinions clear."
John pushed to his feet, grasping the nearest bedpost to steady himself. "If he ever sets foot on my property, I'll be forced to call him out." He swayed as his face reddened with anger. "Never, I mean, never speak to Locken again."
"That will be quite impossible, Southill," a deep voice drawled behind Juliet.
She spun around to see the man himself. He, of course, wore the same clothing from the night before, but in the light of gray morning, he looked ever the impeccable gentleman.
Lord Locken had somehow tamed his hair and retied his cravat, making himself presentable as if he'd merely appeared for a morning house call. He stepped up to Juliet's side, and his presence seemed to take over by his mere appearance.
But her brother didn't falter. "You. I don't know what blasted lies you told my sister, but if you don't get out now, I'll be forced to put a revolver to your heart."
Lord Locken tightened his grip on his cane. "Is that how you should speak in the presence of a lady, Southill?"
John sputtered, his red face growing even redder. "You can't sweet-talk your way out of this."
Lord Locken chuckled. "If I remember right, you were the one sweet-talking, or should I say begging to join my card game last night at White's."
Juliet inhaled. "You were gambling with my brother?" she asked Lord Locken.
Lord Locken's gaze moved to focus on her, and his brown eyes were like amber. She remembered touching his forehead last night, and her breath hitched at the memory.
Before he could reply, her brother blurted, "Locken's a notorious gambler."
Juliet didn't look at her brother because she wanted to read the truth in Lord Locken's eyes. There was no denial there, and a slow wave of disappointment built inside of her. He's a gentleman of the ton, she told herself. That's what they do. Gamble. What did I expect? Although men who were heirs to a dukedom had the money to finance such habits, unlike her brother. She shoved back the ridiculousness of why she should care about what this man did with his time.
"He's a gambler," John repeated, his voice only growing more agitated, "and a rake."
Lord Locken's gaze didn't falter from Juliet's. His lips twitched before he replied to John's accusation. "That last bit was quite unnecessary, Southill."
Juliet had no reply. A gambler and a rake had no business occupying her thoughts, and their conversations from the night before flooded into her mind, making her feel ill with embarrassment.
"Because of this man," John continued, "I've lost our carriage, and . . . I almost lost you."
Juliet snapped her gaze to look at her brother. "What are you talking about?"
His blue eyes widened as if he regretted what he'd confessed, and this alone made Juliet's stomach feel as if she'd swallowed a handful of pebbles.
"Let me explain," Lord Locken said in that deep, smooth voice of his.
A voice she'd once found comforting and trustworthy. But now . . .
"You need to leave, now," John said. "My personal affairs are no concern of yours."
Lord Locken didn't move. "Oh, I think they most definitely concern me, especially when you wagered a carriage in a game that you lost to me, and it turns out the carriage in question was confiscated by creditors."
"How dare you-" John rushed forward.
Juliet didn't know what made her do it, because even with Lord Locken's injury, she had no doubt he could defend himself quite well against her brother, but she stepped in front of Lord Locken.
"Don't you touch him," she told her brother in a voice much stronger then she felt inside. Before her brother could recover his astonishment, she turned to Lord Locken. "I will see to your horses while you break your fast. Thank you for helping my brother, and I'm sorry that he is so ill-tempered. But he is right. It would be better if you left as soon as you are able."
"Ill-tempered?" her brother complained. "Who do you think punched me in the face?"
Juliet looked from her brother to Lord Locken. "Is that true?"
"Your brother needed to be taught a lesson," Lord Locken said simply. "After losing his phantom carriage, he tried to gamble away your hand and your dowry, which is illegal. Even though I didn't know you, I was sure that any sister of Southill's didn't want her future decided in a card game."
Shock jolted through Juliet, and she couldn't even look at her brother. The room had gone dead silent, and that was all the confirmation she needed. She stepped past Lord Locken and left the stench-filled room and returned to her bedchamber. With a numbness, she dressed in her riding habit, then pulled her hair into a severe bun at the nape of her neck.
She would let the men work out their differences, and although Lord Locken seemed to have about one hundred more times honor than her own brother, he was no innocent. He'd been gambling in the first place and had likely seen her brother as easy prey. Juliet was the first one to admit that her brother didn't have a head for games of strategy.
By the time she left her bedchamber, she couldn't hear any conversations coming from the direction of John's room. She walked down the stairs, keeping her chin lifted should she encounter Lord Locken. She didn't know where he'd gone either. Instead of stopping in the kitchen, she left the house and walked to the stables, where she found Lord Locken's bays still in residence. So he hadn't left yet.
She did as she said she would, and she fed and watered the two bays, then brushed down their coats even though it appeared that Lord Locken had done a thorough job the night before. It was then she let the first tears fall. She'd finish her task, then take one of the nags out for a long ride. Because at this moment, the last thing she wanted to do was face her brother and the fact that he'd fallen so low as to wager her future.
Victor found her in the stables. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her brush down the bays. "You've been taking care of me ever since I arrived," he said at last. "First bringing me my cane, feeding me, then covering me with a blanket, and now you're playing groomsman."
Lady Juliet spun around. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her dark blue eyes filled with fire.
Victor straightened from his position, unsure what to expect.
"I am finished with you and your like," she said. "Our wager is finished, and your horses are safe." She brushed a trembling hand over a strand of hair that had come loose from her rather severe coiffure. "My brother has not only disgraced himself, but he has now brought me in the middle of it all. And you, sir, are not what you seem. You let my brother wager more than he had, and then you got into a fight with him."
"I am sorry for allowing him to enter our game of cards in the first place," Victor said. "But I'll never be sorry for teaching him that he cannot wager a woman's fate."
Lady Juliet's fiery gaze seemed to dim, and she looked down and smoothed the waist of her riding skirt. An outfit that she looked very fine in. Whether dressed for bed or dressed for riding, she was a fair woman to gaze upon.
He had no doubt that a house party at Southill Estate would earn her several proposals. Men would be falling at her feet, despite her brother's reputation.
When she looked up, she said, "I've decided to write to my aunt and ask her to take me in."
Victor didn't protest, because what this woman did was truly none of his business. Yet he found he cared what happened to her. "Where does your aunt live?"
"About an hour south from here." Her gaze moved away again, and she looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but here in the stable with him.
He couldn't fully blame her. "Perhaps you should think more upon it before you act in any haste."
She blinked, and he could see she was close to tears. He cursed himself, and even though he could argue a hundred different ways that the tears were caused by her negligent brother, Victor was to blame as well.
"I am tired." She wasn't referring to last night's shortened rest; she was tired of fighting to stay afloat in a sinking estate.
He took a step forward. "Keep our wager, then," he said quietly. When she didn't respond, he added, "Think about it. I spoke with your brother about restoring his reputation by hosting a house party that will bring the elite to this village. You'll have the gentlemen falling at your feet, and within weeks, you'll be engaged."