Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love (Scandalous Seasons #4)(9)

She could not lose him.

She lunged around the dandy and started as fast as her legs could carry her, when an arm shot around and grasped her wrist, yanking her to an abrupt, awkward halt.

The dandy grinned through yellow-stained teeth at her, like some kind of wild creature about to tear into its prey. She jammed the heel of her slipper into the fiend’s knee, tired of gentlemen who seemed to believe ladies existed for nothing more than their bored amusements. He cursed, his grip loosened on her, and Juliet used it to her advantage. She jammed her elbow into his mid-section hard, and he relinquished her on a swift hiss.

Juliet sprinted ahead. Her arm up, just as the driver closed the door of Lord Sinclair’s carriage. “You, wait! My l…oomph!”

Someone slammed into her back, and knocked the air from her lungs. She pitched forward as the now outraged dandy wrapped his arms about her waist. Juliet struggled to draw in breath as he put his ear to the side of her head. Even through her muslin cloak, his fetid breath washed over her, and her stomach churned with nausea…and more, a sudden fear for the rash decision to seek out the earl.

“You dare assault a lord, you little flirt? I’ll turn you over to the authorities, but only after I give it to...oomph.”

Juliet blinked as the gentleman slid forward, and landed hard on the pavement in front of her. She stared down, wide-eyed at the slack-jawed fop who lay in an unconscious puddle at her feet. She raised her gaze and swallowed hard at the grinning gentleman now before her.

He bowed his head and touched the brim of his midnight black hat. “Miss.”

Juliet stared unblinking, robbed of speech and breath at the gypsy-like beauty of the gentleman. Never before one to make a cake of herself for a handsome face, she found herself suddenly struck silent by the towering, muscle-hewn frame of the Earl of Sinclair.

His wicked grin suggested he noted her scrutiny, and Juliet’s body warmed but still she could not stop her study. Her fingers twitched, filled with the sudden urge for her charcoals and sketchpad so she could commit such beauty to page and forever immortalize this man so aptly known as Sin. A gentleman such as he would inspire all manner of sinful thoughts in even an innocent lady’s private musings.

A low groan at her feet knocked the much-needed sense back into her fool’s head.

Juliet glanced down momentarily at the dandy handily laid out by the Earl of Sinclair and back to the earl. He continued to study her, his head cocked at an angle, and she burrowed closer into the cloak, realizing too late her hood had been knocked loose in her scuffle with the dandy. Juliet pulled the hood back into place, finding the only solace she might in the empty, quiet of the streets at this late hour, and in this unfashionable district no less. As she stood there, she was filled with the silliest idea that he could somehow see through the fabric. “My lord?” she began before her courage deserted her and she ran for her…she glanced back momentarily and cursed as her faithless hackney driver urged his mount forward.

“Yes, miss? May I be of assistance?”

She ignored his question as she cried out, a hand outstretched for her hack as it rattled by. Juliet stamped one foot in annoyance. What in blazes was she to do now?

Then the horrors of the day played out with an infinite slowness in her mind. All of it. Albert’s horrendous revelation, Lord Williams’ repulsive tongue in her mouth, the dandy’s grasping touch, and now this…

She stood alone, unchaperoned in the dangersome part of London, with no one but the Earl of Sinclair, reprobate rogue for company. She jabbed a finger at him. “I’d speak with you, my lord.” Interest flared in his eyes, and it occurred to her that he suspected an unladylike offer on her part. “Not about that!” she said on a rush.

His grin widened. “Not about what?”

She waved a hand. “That. You know. That.” She knew very well she’d not misunderstood the improper path his thoughts had roguishly meandered down.

He held out his arm to her like they were to stroll chaperoned alongside the Serpentine in Hyde Park and not in the dark streets of St. Giles.

The fop at their feet groaned again and she hastened to place her fingertip along his midnight black coat sleeves, opting for the devil who’d thus far not put his hands unwillingly upon her.

They reached his carriage. He held gloved fingers out to hand her up into the carriage. She hesitated a moment, before placing her fingers in his.

A heated charge, like one who’d walked in their bare stockings upon a carpet surged through her at the point of his touch. Juliet drew her hand back swiftly and scrambled to the far corners of the earl’s carriage. He entered behind her. The driver closed the door behind them, and she registered the slight dip as the young servant scrambled back into his box. The conveyance remained fixed on the side of the street.

She drew in a deep, steadying breath. Even in the wide expanse of the carriage, his tall, imposing frame filled the space. She wet her lips as for the second time the rash decision in coming here filled her.

He leaned back in his seat. “How may I be of assistance?” he asked, in a soft, seductive whisper that made ladies do all manner of reckless things such as forget they were ladies for the pleasure of his voice alone.

Juliet gave her head a firm shake. Juliet Eleanor Marshville get a gather on yourself right now! She loosened her hood and fixed her gaze on the new owner of her Rosecliff Cottage. “You, my lord, have something I want.”