to persuade this man into doing her bidding…
Until this moment Juliet had believed Dolly to be totally devoted to the Earl of Banford, but it would have taken more than a simple request from their hostess to persuade this young rake into committing possible social ruination by showing a preference for the notorious Countess of Crestwood. It led Juliet to wonder, with inner distaste, if this young man were possibly the Countess of Banford’s current lover…
‘Lady Boyd, may I present Lord Sebastian St Claire?’ the Earl said, doing as requested and duti-fully making the introductions. ‘Lord St Claire—Lady Juliet Boyd, Countess of Crestwood.’
Sebastian knew by the gleam of interest in the Earl’s eyes as he made the introductions that Dolly must have confided to her husband Sebastian’s intentions towards the Countess. His mouth tightened in displeasure at the breach of confidence even as he gave her an abrupt bow. ‘My Lady.’
‘My Lord.’ The Countess made a graceful curtsey, but made no effort to extend to him her gloved hand.
Sebastian scowled at the omission. ‘Will you grant me the honour of escorting you into dinner, Lady Boyd?’
‘“Honour”, My Lord?’ She raised dark, mocking brows.
He inclined his head. ‘I would consider it so, yes.’
Her laughter was light and derisive. ‘Then you are singular in your preference, My Lord.’
Damn it—this first conversation with Juliet Boyd was not going at all as Sebastian had hoped it might!
In his imaginings she had been as instantly taken with Sebastian as he already was with her. To such an extent that he had envisaged them talking alone together. Walking alone together. Sitting alone together. Most definitely being alone when they made love together…!
A muscle flickered in Sebastian’s tightly clenched jaw as he imagined first removing the pearls from her hair, before releasing the glossy curls so that they tumbled down the length of her slender spine. Next he would remove her gown, turning her so that he might unfasten—slowly—the row of tiny buttons from her nape down to her bottom, lingering, after releasing each button, to kiss the smoothness of the silky skin he had just exposed. When the last button had been unfastened he would then allow the gown to fall about her ankles, leaving her wearing only her chemise and stockings, with the fullness of her breasts pouting temptingly beneath the thin material, her nipples a dark delight that Sebastian would taste and possess until he’d had his fill…
‘It would appear we are the last to go into dinner, Lord St Claire,’ Juliet prompted sharply. He seemed lost in thought. Perhaps contemplating that social ruination, if the pained expression on his face was any indication!
He drew his thoughts back to his surroundings with an obvious effort. ‘I apologise for my preoccupation, Lady Boyd,’ he murmured huskily as he extended his arm to her.
‘Do not give it another thought, Lord St Claire,’ Juliet assured him as she placed her gloved hand lightly upon his sleeve. She was aware of the muscled strength beneath her fingertips. ‘After all, it is not every day that you are asked to act as escort to the notorious Black Widow!’ she added waspishly.
‘I—What did you call yourself?’ he exclaimed.
Her smile was completely lacking in humour. ‘I assure you I am well aware of the unflattering names I have acquired since…since the death of my husband,’ she told him. ‘Do not fear—you will have done your duty to our hostess once I am seated. I will not be in the least offended if you then ignore me for the rest of the evening.’ Rather, she would prefer it!
Juliet now recognised Lord Sebastian St Claire as being the youngest brother of the aristocratic Duke of Stourbridge. A young lord, moreover, who had long been considered by the ton to be one of their most eligible—and elusive—bachelors. As such, his presence here was attracting as much attention as her own, making their belated entrance to the dining room together all the more sensational.
A puzzled frown marked his brow. ‘Why should you imagine I might wish to ignore you?’
Juliet smiled slightly. ‘To save yourself from further awkwardness, perhaps…?’
For the first time Sebastian considered that perhaps it had not been kind on Dolly’s part—or indeed his own!—to invite Juliet Boyd to Banford Park for these two weeks. That after all the talk and speculation this past year and a half, concerning her husband’s unexpected death, this woman would obviously be uncomfortable at making her first public appearance in some time.
Just as she was obviously aware of the unkind things that had been said about her following Crestwood’s death—cruel and malicious gossip, for the most part, which, even if it were true, could not have been at all pleasant for the lady to hear…
He fleetingly touched the hand that rested on his arm. ‘I assure you I feel no awkwardness whatsoever at being seen in your company, Lady Boyd.’
Her glance was scathing now. ‘And I am just as sure, as the Duke of Stourbridge’s youngest brother, you would consider it impolite to admit to such an emotion even if you did.’
‘On the contrary, My Lady,’ Sebastian countered. ‘If you know anything of the St Claire family at all, then you must know that we prefer—in fact, go out of our way—not to bow to the dictates of Society.’
Yes, Juliet had heard that the St Claires were something of a law unto themselves. Even the head of that illustrious family, the aristocratic Duke of Stourbridge.
After years of being considered the biggest catch any marriage-minded mama could make for her daughter, the Duke had caused something of a sensation almost a year ago by choosing to woo and marry a young woman the ton had had no previous knowledge of.
Juliet moved to sit in the chair Lord St Claire drew back for her. ‘Be assured, My Lord, in this circumstance you are in the company of one guaranteed to help you succeed in doing exactly that!’
She had been so busy settling herself into her seat that for a moment she had not realised he had taken the chair beside her.
‘Oh, dear,’ she said now, as she looked up and found herself between the Earl of Banford, seated at the head of the table, and Lord St Claire to her right. ‘Have you succeeded in inciting Lady Bancroft’s ire in some way, Lord St Claire?’ she asked.
He raised brows the same unusual teak and gold colour as his hair, laughter gleaming in those whisky-coloured eyes. ‘On the contrary. Lady Bancroft—Dolly—and I have always been the best of friends.’
Juliet continued to look at him for several long seconds. ‘Indeed,’ she finally murmured enigmatically, before turning away to indicate, she hoped, a complete lack of interest in the subject.
Sebastian would have liked to pursue the conversation further, to know the reason for that enigmatic glance, but he was prevented from doing so as his first course was served to him—by which time Lord Bancroft had drawn the Countess into conversation, giving Sebastian no further opportunity to talk, but every chance to study Juliet Boyd from between narrowed lids.
For all that she must know she was still attracting more attention from their fellow guests than was polite, the Countess of Crestwood stoically ignored that interest as she continued to converse and smile graciously with their host between sips of her soup.
