She exhaled and wiped at a tear that had fallen upon her cheek.
Victor forced his hands to stay at his side. "You can be married by Christmastide and out from under your brother's thumb. His poor decisions will no longer affect you."
Her gaze met his, and the blue of her eyes was like the deepest part of the ocean. "That is one option."
His lips curved. "A better option than hiding yourself away at your aunt's home."
Lady Juliet's eyes flashed again. "I'm not hiding out, I-"
Victor placed a hand on her arm. "I know." She was trembling, and it made him even more disappointed in her brother. Victor knew how it felt to be helpless about one's own fate and be at the mercy of another's decisions. He should have probably left then, bade her farewell and good luck. Instead he brushed his thumb over the moisture along her cheek.
He heard her breath hitch, mimicking the hitch in his chest. "Don't make a rash decision is all I'm suggesting. Take your time. Consider where you want to be a year from now."
She nodded, her eyes luminous as she gazed up at him.
His heart was pounding, and he needed to drop his hand and step back. "Write to me of your decision," he managed to say. Then he did as his good sense commanded and stepped away. "And thank you for preparing my horses."
She said nothing as he led the two bays out of the stables and harnessed them to his curricle. Even though his back was turned toward her, he sensed her watching his every movement.
Once the curricle was ready to go, he climbed in and turned toward the stables. Lady Juliet was nowhere in sight. Had it been his imagination that she'd been watching him? He steered the horses along the drive that led past the Southill manor. Just before he turned away from the house, the front door opened and Southill came out, half dressed.
"Hold up, Roland," he called out.
Victor pulled back on the reins. "Whoa!"
Southill strode to Victor and placed his hands on the edge of the curricle. "I'm going to take you up on your offer," he said in a conciliatory tone, although his eyes were filled with contempt. "You must pay for everything, though."
"I said I would," Victor replied. "My terms are that no one will know of the financial arrangement. Not your sister, not your buffoon friends, no one."
"I give you my word." Southill stretched out his hand, and the two men shook on their agreement. "I'll see you in three weeks, then."
Victor nodded. "See you then." He slapped the reins, and the horses moved forward, pulling him away from Southill Estate-a place that had been full of surprises. He was tempted to wipe the earl's touch from his hand, but instead, Victor focused straight ahead, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.
If it weren't for Lady Juliet Baldwin, he'd have turned around the moment he'd dumped Southill on his doorstep last night. Victor would have washed his hands of the despicable man for good. Yet, now, he felt as if he'd just made a bargain with the devil himself.
He wondered how Lady Juliet would react when her brother told her the news that the house party was indeed happening. Would she already be too far into her plans to move in with her aunt? Victor found that he hoped she would be present at the house party. Forget the wager, he just wanted to see her enjoying herself without the cloud of her brother's actions hanging over her.
Three weeks. It seemed an eternity from now.
By the time he reached London, he was in sore need of a bath and a shave. He pulled up to his London townhome, and Thomas came out immediately to take the curricle around to the stables. Lud, it was nice to have a groomsman again.
And his butler was at the door to greet him and take his coat.
"We're glad to see you safely returned," Fletcher said without inquiring further.
News traveled quickly among household help and servants, so he had no doubt that Fletcher knew he'd carted Southill home.
"I must say that it's good to be home," he told Fletcher. He considered London his home while his father still lived at their Locken Estate. "Can you tell Leeson that I'd like a bath? Oh, and send something up to eat. I'm in a bit of a rush." He was starving, but he couldn't waste any time. He had to get to White's and make light of the situation surrounding Southill. He also had to plant in the minds of the men that Southill's sister was a diamond of the first water.
Then, in two days' time, he'd mention his invitation to an exclusive house party at the Southill Estate. Others would beg him for a reference, and the invitations would then start arriving.
Juliet stood at her bedchamber window, watching the line of carriages approaching Southill Estate. In a few minutes, members of the ton would set foot inside her home, the men and women in their finery and sophistication. They'd be here for two weeks of food, games, hunting, and dancing.
Lord Locken had done it. He'd somehow reconciled with her brother and convinced him to hold a house party. She didn't know how John would afford all of this but could only hope that his new connections would prove fruitful in the long run.
As for herself, she couldn't forget her wager with Lord Locken. He'd mentioned nothing of it in his single letter to her. Yes, he had written her a letter, and if society knew about it, it would be considered scandalous since they weren't related. But when her brother had told her of the house party, she'd done as Lord Locken had suggested. She'd spent time going over her options and what she wanted for her future.
Juliet came to the realization that she wanted to fall in love, wanted to marry, wanted a home of her own, wanted children. So . . . she wrote a short note to Lord Locken.
His reply came only a few days later.
Below, the first carriage, laden with two trunks, stopped in front of the manor, and two women alighted amid a flurry of activity as the hired help that Lord Locken had sent bustled about the women. John welcomed them, fawning over each lady in turn, bowing to kiss their hands, then leading them into the house.
They'd planned for Juliet to enter the drawing room when everyone had arrived. She suspected her brother was scouring for a wife-one with a large dowry-and that might have been why he agreed to Lord Locken's plan.
Now Juliet reached into her bodice and removed the three-times folded letter from Lord Locken. She opened the creased page again, although she had his words memorized.
Dear Lady Juliet,
I received your message with gratitude. I applaud your decision, and I don't believe you will regret it. I look forward to our reunion .
Yours,
-V R
His dark, slanted handwriting complemented his decisive nature. Juliet's gaze dwelt on his signature, Yours, V R. His given name was Victor Roland, and ever since she'd received the letter, she'd struggled to think of him as anything other than Victor. Something she'd have to put out of her mind so she wouldn't make the error of calling him by his Christian name.
The second carriage came to a stop, and the groomsmen strode over to attend to the next group of guests. The carriage door opened, and out stepped the man who had made all of this happen. Even though Juliet could only see the top of his dark head, she knew instantly it was Lord Locken. He still used his cane. He'd dressed in a light gray jacket with darker breeches, and he wore a vest of a pale yellow. If anything, he was more handsome than Juliet remembered. How that was possible, she didn't know. Perhaps the three weeks had dulled her memory. Moments later, another man climbed out of the carriage. This man was older but looked every bit the refined gentleman.
And then Lord Locken looked up, right at her window, as if he knew she stood there. Her heart nearly stopped. It was impossible to think that he could see her from the driveway. She didn't move, thinking if he did see her, maybe he'd think she resembled a bureau situated near the window.
But a smile played on his lips before he turned to the gentleman who'd traveled with him. They issued directions to the groomsmen, although it looked as if they'd traveled much lighter than the women of the previous carriage.
John stepped forward to greet both men, shaking their hands. Even from her position, Juliet noticed the rigidness of her brother's shoulders and stiffness of his posture. Whatever repairs had been made between her brother and Lord Locken, in truth they were both very stubborn men.
Juliet refolded the letter and slipped it into its place on the inside of her bodice. She didn't want to risk the letter being found by the lady's maid Lord Locken had sent to their household. Juliet didn't want to burn it either.
Another carriage rumbled to a stop, and Juliet continued to watch the arriving guests long after Lord Locken had walked with a group of men toward the stables, certainly to check out the horses Lord Stratford had lent them for the occasion. Yes, Lord Stratford was to be a guest at all the activities, and he had yet to renew his sentiments, a fact for which Juliet was deeply grateful, or else she might have to turn him out on his ear.