happened, it just meant it wasn’t quite as Colin described it. Either way, she was appalled to find jealousy and curiosity among her tangled emotions. If nothing else, Colin’s warning served to remind her that she had not yet known Dan for a fortnight. And she had always recognized the charm of his easy-going, friendly manners.
Perhaps friendships meant little to him. Certainly, he hadn’t wanted to pretend engagement to her to help her out of this mess. Although he had done everything else to help her, she reminded herself.
It was difficult to think straight when she was so tired. Abruptly, she swung away from the window and saw Dan gazing at her. One eyebrow twitched upward, asking what was wrong. Every instinct urged her to trust this man, whatever he had or hadn’t done in the past.
A frown began to tug at his brow. He stood and began to walk toward her. But how could she talk to him about this? Instead, she swung hastily around to his mother.
“Forgive me, but I think I need to retire for the night. I did not sleep at all last night, so…”
“You must be exhausted,” Mrs. Stewart said kindly.
“I’ll ring for one of the maids to attend you,” Mrs. Cornwell added, pulling the bell.
Juliet managed to smile and curtsey to the room in general before fleeing to the sanctuary of the little bedchamber on the half-landing. Forcing her tired mind to concentrate on Susan’s issues, she sat down on the bed and tried to compose her questions about the maid’s old and new lovers, and about any communication she had with Mrs. Harper.
But when she answered the door to a respectful knock, it was an older maid, Betty, who bustled in and set about drawing back the bed covers and lighting the bedside lamp from the candle.
“I thought it would be Susan who came,” Juliet said, turning her back so that Betty could unfasten her gown.
“Susan is not well, my lady. We had to send her to bed with a bucket.”
“Oh, dear! Have you sent for the doctor?”
“Oh no, my lady,” Betty said comfortably. “It will just be the stomachache, over by morning. She shouldn’t have eaten all those mushrooms, and so I told her while she was bolting them down. But young folk never listen to their betters.”
If Juliet had listened to her elders and betters, she would be betrothed now to Jeremy or halfway to London in order to marry the unspeakable Lord Barden. But she merely smiled noncommittally.
“Give my best wishes to poor Susan and let me know if I can help. Thank you, Betty, you may go.”
Betty curtsied and left, and Juliet climbed into the big, cold bed. She blew out the candle and snuggled down. The sheets smelled fresh, the pillows seemed to hug her, and in no time, she sank into a deep, grateful sleep.
*
Lord Barden had waited a long time to see the Earl of Cosland look as worried as this. However, Barden was supposed to be the cause of this anxiety, not the hoyden of a girl who had, apparently, flown the nest.
“She wrote that she was going somewhere safe,” Albright, Cosland’s son and heir said, with a hint of impatience. “I don’t see why you’re so worried.”
“Because her idea of safe may not be mine,” the countess snapped. “And because it is not right that she is not in her own home, particularly just now.”
Her son shrugged. “I’ll ride out and look for her again,” he offered.
The countess flapped one dismissive hand. “There is no point.”
“There, you see?” Lady Kitty said brightly. “You do not really believe she is alone in a ditch somewhere! You know she is safe with friends.”
“With respect, Kitty, that isn’t really the point,” Catesby piped up. As if he still had any stake in the girl.
The drawing room door opened, and a footman brought a silver tray with a folded paper on it to the earl. Everyone sat up straight. Cosland almost snatched the note, broke it open, and scanned it.
“Well?” Lady Cosland demanded.
“She isn’t with the Haretons either.” Cosland dropped the note, which fluttered to the floor.
“I’m afraid you will have to produce her tomorrow,” Barden said, angrily, for the girl was upsetting his schedule. “I have an important appointment in Cheshire.”
“No one is standing in your way,” Catesby retorted.
“Enough,” Lady Cosland pronounced, but when they both glanced at her in surprise, she was not talking to them, but to her daughter. “Kitty, she may not have told