The Rogue's Disgraced Lady. Carole Mortimer

bed—he took her in a cold, silent way—and Juliet had always had to fight to keep the tears from falling, knowing that her tears would only anger Edward into making her suffer even worse degradation.

      So Juliet had suffered the pain as Edward had thrust himself between her thighs, eventually giving a grunt and collapsing heavily on top of her, rather than suffer the verbal and physical retribution that would rain down on her should she attempt to refuse him.

      Thankfully Edward had not come to her bedchamber quite so often during the last few years of her marriage, but on the occasions when he had done so no amount of pleading on her part had succeeded in softening his demands. She was his wife, he had told her coldly, and as such it was her duty to lie back, open her legs, and give satisfaction to his physical needs—whenever and whatever they might be.

      The memory of those miserable nights with Edward was enough to kill any possibility of Juliet ever finding pleasure in any man’s arms—even Sebastian St Claire’s!—and she wrenched her mouth free of his before pushing him away, her hands held out defensively in front of her as she backed away from him.

      Edward was dead, Juliet reminded herself desperately. She was free of him at last. Not just free of him, but of all men. Juliet had promised herself after Edward’s death that she would never again suffer the torment of belonging to any man.

      ‘Do not come near me again!’ she warned harshly. She knew by the raising of his hand that St Claire was about to do exactly that.

      Sebastian had meant only to cup the side of Juliet’s face, to lay the soft pad of his thumb soothingly against lips slightly swollen from his kisses. But his hand fell back to his side, and his gaze became searching as he saw the wildness glittering in the deep green of her eyes. Like those of a rabbit cornered by a bigger and stronger predator…

      Who was responsible for causing this look of desperation in such a lovely and delicate woman?

       Chapter Three

      Sebastian had no idea quite what he would have said or done next, as a loud knock on the outer door to Juliet’s bedchamber preventing him from doing anything.

      ‘Perhaps you should go and answer that,’ he advised softly, as Juliet continued to stare up at him rather than respond to the persistence of a second knock.

      ‘Not before I am sure you understand it is my wish for you to stay well away from me in future!’ Her hands were clenched.

      ‘I understand.’ He gave her a terse inclination of his head.

      Juliet gave him one last narrow-eyed look before turning sharply on her heel to enter her bedchamber, the softness of her slippers making little noise as she hurried across the room to open the door.

      Sebastian stepped back into the shadows. No matter what Juliet might choose to think of him, it had never been his intention to involve her in the sort of scandal that his being found with her on the balcony of her bedchamber was sure to incur.

      His brows rose as he saw that her late-night visitor was Dolly Bancroft…

      Juliet’s legs were still trembling as she quickly opened the door, and her breasts were quickly rising and falling in agitation from her time in Sebastian St Claire’s arms—on her balcony, of all places! So disorientated did Juliet feel that she could only stare blankly at Dolly as she stood in the dimly lit hallway, still dressed in her evening finery.

      Her hostess looked slightly flustered. ‘I am sorry to disturb you, Juliet, but there has been a slight accident.’

      Was it Juliet’s imagination, or had Dolly Bancroft given a swift glance behind Juliet before speaking? As if she had suspected—no, expected!—that Juliet would not be alone in her bedchamber?

      Dolly Bancroft was the person responsible, Juliet felt sure, for giving Sebastian St Claire the bedchamber next to hers. With those adjoining balconies!

      Still in that spirit of ‘kindness’, perhaps…?

      Her mouth thinned. ‘An accident?’ she enquired.

      ‘Your maid.’ Dolly reluctantly drew her attention from the bedchamber back to Juliet. ‘Her name is Helena, I believe?’

      Juliet drew in a sharp breath at this mention of her cousin. ‘What has happened?’ she asked anxiously.

      Dolly sighed. ‘The silly girl seems to have fallen on the stairs and injured her ankle.’

      Was her cousin in pain? How badly was she injured? More importantly, had a doctor been called?

      ‘A footman has carried her up to her room, and one of my other guests—Mr Hallowell—is a physician. He has gone up to examine her even as we speak,’ Dolly Bancroft answered Juliet’s question before she even had the chance to voice it.

      ‘I must go to her,’ Juliet said.

      ‘I am sure there is no need for you to trouble yourself, Juliet.’ Dolly frowned at the suggestion. ‘Mr Hallowell is perfectly competent, I assure you.’

      ‘Nevertheless, I intend to go and see my—Helena for myself.’ Juliet turned to pick up a candle to light her way up the stairs to the servants’ quarters. ‘Surely it would have been better for you to have sent one of the servants to inform me, rather than abandoning your other guests?’

      Dolly pursed her lips and her gaze no longer quite met Juliet’s. ‘I thought it best, in the circumstances, if I came and informed you myself.’

      ‘Circumstances?’ Juliet repeated dryly. ‘What might those be, Dolly?’

      ‘I—You—’ Dolly Bancroft looked uncharacteristically flustered. ‘I simply thought it best,’ she repeated briskly.

      ‘Dolly?’

      The other woman was suddenly every inch the Countess of Banford as she paused to turn in the hallway and look at Juliet down the length of her pretty nose. ‘I really must return downstairs to my other guests now, Juliet.’

      ‘Of course.’ Her own manner was just as haughty. ‘In that case you and I will speak again in the morning, Lady Bancroft.’

      Some of the starch left Dolly’s expression. ‘Why all this fuss, Juliet?’ She gave a conspiratorial smile. ‘Surely you must agree that St Claire is devilishly handsome?’ She laughed softly. ‘And, not only that, he is the lover that all the women of the ton secretly wish to have as their own!’

      Juliet drew herself up to her little over five feet. ‘Then they are welcome to him!’ she announced.

      ‘Most of them would be only too happy if they could get him. Unfortunately they are not the object of Sebastian’s current interest.’ Dolly gave her a knowing look.

      Juliet’s gaze faltered a little and her expression became wary. Was Dolly saying that it was she, in particular, whom St Claire desired? That actually, it was he who was the instigator of their adjoining bedchambers?

      Of course Dolly was not saying that, Juliet instantly chided herself; she and His Lordship had not even been introduced until this evening, and the allocation of the bedchambers for the Bancroft guests would have been made long before that.

      ‘Lord St Claire’s interest in me is not particular,’ she informed the older woman frostily. ‘He is simply an opportunist. A man who sought to use my—my discomfort earlier this evening to his own advantage.’ Juliet’s eyes flashed as she recalled the way the young lord had invaded her balcony only minutes ago and dared to kiss her.

      And he was probably on the balcony still—no doubt listening to every word of this conversation!

      ‘Lord St Claire is a renowned rake. Nothing but a seducer of women!’ Juliet added for good measure.

      Sebastian was eavesdropping on the conversation between the two ladies with increasing displeasure. But he’d had no other choice than to remain, trapped as he was outside