Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love (Scandalous Seasons #4)(70)

Had those hands dared to touch Patrina?

“You have now taken two people I love more than anything,” Jonathan said on a silken whisper. “We shall begin with the matter of my sister. If you even so much as breathe Patrina’s name, if you make mention of anything that transpired between you, there will be no place far enough for you to hide. I will track you down like the rodent you are and destroy you. I will do it deliberately and gleefully. I will ruin you financially, and I will ruin your name beyond repair. And then, I will kill you. Are we clear?” His mother had begged him not to duel the other man, and he would honor that promise, but if Sir Albert bandied Patrina’s name about, Jonathan would have little choice.

Sir Albert quaked in his seat, and nodded jerkily.

Only…

For the wrong he’d done Patrina, Sir Albert was still Juliet’s brother. Could he bring himself to face him in a duel? He feared he didn’t know the answer to that. Fortunately, Sir Albert didn’t know the moral battle that waged internally within Jonathan. After all, a man so lacking a conscience should not know even a hint of his inner strife. “Then there is the matter of Juliet,” he said softly. “Where is she?” he repeated.

Sir Albert sat up straighter, seeming to know he had a foothold over Jonathan, at the mention of Juliet. He gave a tug on his coat. “Go to hell, Sinclair.”

A primal growl climbed up Jonathan’s throat.

The other man recoiled. He made a quick lunge for the door. Jonathan closed his hand so hard about Sir Albert’s wrist, the baronet cried out. “Y-you’ll b-break it, S-Sinclair!”

Jonathan squeezed all the tighter. “Out with it, you bloody bastard. Where is she?”

Sir Albert’s eyes snapped fire. “She said she doesn’t want to see you again.”

Jonathan released him so quickly he collapsed against his seat. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. His Juliet was not vindictive and bitter. She’d had every right to be with the life she’d known, but she was neither of those things.

The other man smoothed the rumpled fabric of his coat. “You act so high and mighty, Sinclair. You act so indignant, when in truth, you’re just like me.”

“The hell I am, Marshville,” he hissed.

“Oh?” Sir Albert arched a ginger eyebrow. “Aren’t you? I used your sister to accomplish my goals, and well, you did the same with Juliet. So therefore, I consider us squared where our sisters are concerned.” With his free hand, he motioned to Jonathan. “You come here outraged and ready to call me out, and yet your intentions toward my sister were never honorable. Your governess,” he sneered. “Wager me this right now. I would wager all the remaining land and wealth I possess, you tried to make my sister your whore. If I’m wrong, it is all yours.”

Silence filled the carriage. Never before had Jonathan hated himself more than he did in that moment.

“It is as I thought, Sinclair. So, what was the difference, you or Lord Williams? Both of you wanted her for the same purpose.”

Agony knifed at his gut at the loathsome fiend’s charges. Because the one, singular difference between him and Lord Williams was that Jonathan had fallen helplessly and hopelessly in love with Juliet. Yet, even with that, he’d not offered her marriage.

God help him—Sir Albert was correct. He wasn’t different.

Bile climbed up his throat and threatened to choke him. “Where is she?” This time, he didn’t demand, but rather asked.

For a moment, Sir Albert opened his mouth as if to reply, but a cold grin turned his lips. With a surprising show of fearlessness, he opened the door and jumped out of the carriage. He spit onto the pavement. “Go to hell, Sinclair.”

I’m already there.

Jonathan stared blindly at the opened door until the driver slammed it closed, jerking him out of his reverie.

All the steely determination to find Juliet left him as he confronted the ugly truth of Albert Marshville’s words. Jonathan didn’t deserve her. He’d never been deserving of her. With his dishonorable intentions he would have ruined her reputation as surely as Albert had ruined Patrina’s.

No, he’d taken her home and…

Rosecliff Cottage.

His heart sped up. She was at Rosecliff Cottage. Of course! His undaunted, independent Juliet would lay claim to her childhood home like a lady defending her keep from outside invaders.

He pounded on the roof of the carriage.

His driver opened the door and stuck his head inside. “My lord?”

“To…” You act so high and mighty, Sinclair. “To…” You act so indignant, when in truth, you are just like me.”

“My lord?”

So, what was the difference, you or Lord Williams? Both of you wanted her for the same purpose.

“Home, Marshall.” You tried to make my sister your whore. “I’d have you drive me home.”

Marshall’s mouth screwed up. “You’re certain, my lord?” It was the closest the servant who’d clearly heard the entire exchange with Marshville came to questioning his employer.

Jonathan nodded once. The driver slammed the door and the carriage dipped slightly as he climbed atop his box.

A moment later he snapped the horses forward.

Jonathan stared blankly at the window. Albert Marshville had been shockingly correct in all the biting charges he’d leveled. Like Lord Williams, Jonathan had been less than honorable where Juliet was concerned.