Abandoned to the Prodigal - Mary Lancaster Page 0,19

frowned. “How did you get home? Please say post.”

“Stagecoach,” Juliet admitted. “Jeremy tried to give me money, but I threw it in his face.”

“A mistake,” her mother said mournfully. “Understandable, but definitely a mistake. Your father won’t like this either.”

“Is he angry?” Juliet asked with a hint of nervousness, for although she was used to twisting him around her little finger, he was a rather formidable man.

“Furious,” her mother said frankly. “With the Alfords and with you for putting him in such a position. Apart from anything else, you must know we are to have a dinner party here to celebrate Kitty’s engagement and—”

“Kitty is engaged?” Juliet interrupted, distracted by this startling news about her sister. “Who to?”

“Lawrence King. It is a decent match, and there is some expectation from an uncle, I believe, so—”

“Does she love him?” Juliet interrupted. “Because if she isn’t completely sure, she shouldn’t go near him. What’s more—”

“What is this?” asked the unmistakable and highly sarcastic voice of her father. “Lessons in marriage from the girl who just lost all chance of a husband?”

Juliet had been so involved with saving her sister that she had not registered the opening of the boudoir door until her father spoke and closed it behind him. She jumped to her feet. “Papa.”

Her father threw something onto the sofa, “Is that true?”

She saw at once it was the same scandal sheet she had already seen in the hands of Jeremy and later Oily George.

“Of course not,” she said indignantly.

“She was there,” her mother said grimly. “Entirely innocent and physically unhurt, but she was there alone with the other three girls.”

“God in heaven.” He strode across the room to the window.

Juliet swallowed. “Mama says Jeremy—Mr. Catesby—wrote to you. So, you know my engagement has ended.”

“Don’t worry about Catesby,” her father said savagely. “I’ll get the little toad back for you. One way or another.”

“But I don’t want the little toad,” she exclaimed, before laughter struck her once more, quite unaware. There was an element of hysteria to this, along with Daniel Stewart. She coughed to sober herself. “I would not take him back if he begged me on his knees.”

Her father turned and glared at her. “You no longer have a say in the matter. You are ruined and will take whatever husband we can get for you. At this stage, all we can hope for is that you have not ruined Kitty’s chances too.”

Juliet whitened, raising both hands to her cold cheeks. “Oh, no. Kitty…”

“Which is why you will stay here, out of sight,” her father said grimly. “When we have guests, you will retire to your chamber. You will not even dine with us in such circumstances. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Papa,” she whispered.

“There will be no morning calls, no riding, or even walking except within the grounds of Hornby Park.”

“But, Papa…”

“Is that clear?” he bellowed.

Her chin came up, though she wanted to weep. “Perfectly.”

*

Kitty, otherwise Lady Katherine Lilbourne, had just endured her first London Season. Pretty but shy, she had not truly enjoyed the social whirl, as she confided to Juliet over breakfast.

“I did not take the way you did, and to be truthful, I was glad to come home. Mama was disappointed, I think, but then we received the offer from Mr. King.”

“Do you love him?” Juliet asked curiously, for they had known Lawrence King all their lives. His father owned a decent property on the other side of Kidfield, and they frequently met at assemblies and at dinner parties as well as less formal occasions like riding expeditions and al frescoes. Juliet had always liked him, but he had seemed more of an extra brother than a prospective husband.

Kitty blushed. “I always did. He never minds if I stutter or say foolish things. And he doesn’t think me less beautiful than you.”

“You aren’t,” Juliet said, startled. “But these aren’t reasons to love someone.”

“I don’t need a reason. I just do.”

“Oh, Kitty, I’m sorry if I have made this difficult for you…”

“Lawrence won’t care. Even if you had done something wrong, which I know you didn’t, he would still stand your friend.”

“Then he is worth a hundred so-called brilliant matches like Jeremy,” Juliet said fiercely.

“I’m sorry,” Kitty said anxiously. “Is your heart broken?”

“At the moment, I think I am too angry. Even Papa called him a toad. And Da—a friend of mine—calls him a weasel. I would hate to marry a weasel, so I am actually grateful I discovered this before our wedding. But I will keep out