Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love (Scandalous Seasons #4)(64)

The carriage rocked to a slow halt at the end of a muddied road that led up to a very familiar, very dear brick-front cottage. Juliet didn’t await the driver. Instead, she tossed the door open and leapt from the carriage. Her slippers sank into the thick mud, and her crippled leg buckled. Rain streamed from the sky in a heavy torrent. It soaked her hair and ran in rivulets down her cheeks.

“Miss Marshville!”

Juliet ignored the marquess’ exclamation as she took off running toward the gated front. She skidded to a halt at the entrance and grappled with the lock, her fingers numb with the frigid cold. Then the familiar click sounded. Juliet tugged the gate open and sprinted over the cobbled path, and on to the front door. And then she froze, her hand on the handle of the door, as she braced herself for the horror sure to unfold. She drew in a steadying breath and then opened the door.

Juliet stepped inside. “Hullo?” Eerie silence was her only greeting. The steady drip of moisture from the muddied hem of her skirts echoed through the quiet.

She moved deeper into this home that had once meant so much to her. She’d been willing to cast away the opportunity of marriage and a family of her own and take a post as a governess just so she could become the rightful owner of the beloved place. Only, now, did she realize when she stripped away the love and laughter she’d known with her papa, all that remained were the empty walls of a humble structure.

She’d demanded Jonathan return Rosecliff Cottage to her but in truth what she’d wanted someone to return to her was the peace and happiness she’d once known.

The wood floor creaked. Heart pounding, she spun around. It was only the marquess. He glanced around the space with a dark frown. “Where are the servants? Why are there no candles lit?” she asked aloud, more to herself.

“Ah, it would appear my sister has arrived, and she’s been good enough to bring company.” Albert emerged from the corridor leading to Papa’s old office.

Now the Earl of Sinclair’s office.

Juliet jumped and took an unwitting step closer to the marquess.

An unholy glitter sparked in her brother’s eyes as if he delighted in her unease.

His spiteful reaction only fueled her strength. She marched over to him. “What have you done with her? Where is she?” She didn’t await an answer. Instead, she rushed around him. “Patrina?” she called. “Patrina?”

The girl came flying from the parlor. Tears stained the young lady’s cheeks. She hurled herself into Juliet’s waiting arms. Juliet held her as she sobbed against her shoulder.

She glared at her brother as he approached. “What manner of monster are you? She is a young lady.”

“And so were you, Juliet,” he taunted. “What have you become though, Sinclair’s whore? And to what end? So you might gain possession of this nothing of a property.” He tossed his head back and a hateful laugh spewed from his lips.

She cringed with humiliated shame at being so debased in front of Jonathan’s sister and the marquess.

Lord Drake growled. He strode over to Albert. “Watch your tongue. There are ladies present.”

Albert turned gray and lurched backwards, away from Lord Drake. When he returned his attention to Juliet, his courage seemed restored. “I’d have you come home, Juliet.”

For what? So he could turn her into an actual whore? “Albert, have you…?”

“Touched her?” he scoffed. “A woman such as her could never tempt me.”

Patrina’s sobs increased in desperation.

Juliet touched a hand to the young lady’s cheek. She needed to get her away from this place, the cottage now sullied by Albert’s foul deed. “Lord Drake will return you home, Patrina,” she said softly.

The marquess stepped forward, arm extended.

The girl glanced from the marquess, and back to Juliet. “W-what of y-you, Miss Marshville?”

Juliet gave her a gentle smile. “I’ll be fine,” she promised. She gave her one last quick hug. “Now, go.”

The young lady hugged Juliet back, and then sprinted over to Lord Drake.

He looked to Juliet a question in his eyes.

She nodded once. He needed to take Patrina away. Juliet would manage on her own. Just as she’d always done.

The marquess guided Patrina from Rosecliff, leaving Juliet and Albert alone.

They stood there in a stony silence, studying one another. His similar green eyes unyielding and victorious. Her heart tugged. This grand scheme he’d concocted, absconding with Patrina, had been nothing more than the game of a bored and desperate nobleman.

Juliet had seen the agony of betrayal etched in the gentle lines of Patrina’s face. Albert might not have stolen the woman’s virtue, but he had worse, played with her heart, and the girl would not so easily recover. She broke the silence. “Now, what, Albert?” She arched an eyebrow. “I am here. What is next in your grand plan?”

“Silence,” he barked. He tugged at the lapels of his jacket.

And it occurred to her… “You didn’t believe I’d come. You never really considered what should happen now?”

“You’ll come with me,” he said as though he’d solved the great question of the universe. “Now.” He gripped her by the arm and steered her from the cottage, back out into the driving rain.

Wind whipped around them, as they made the long walk down the cobbled path. Through the steady downpour she squinted in the distance at Lord Drake’s carriage. The velvet curtains fluttered, and she swore Patrina peered out the window in her direction.