Lord Heartless by Tessa Berkley

Author:Tessa Berkley [Berkley, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Published: 2014-03-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Dark curls surrounded a pair of hazel eyes so wide they seemed to dominate the delicate features shadowed in surprise.

“Countess Montague.” The woman lowered her gaze and offered a mock curtsy as two red splotches formed on her cheeks. “This is such a pleasure.”

“Indeed,” the dowager agreed. Her mouth drew together with disdain. “I’m sure it’s a pleasant surprise.” She turned toward Juliet and motioned her forward while the young woman sputtered trying to think of something to say. “Allow me, Lady Scarborough, the new Lady Montague.”

“Lady—” The woman’s words faltered as she looked to Juliet. “Your niece perhaps?” she questioned, her voice squeaking.

“Oh heavens, no.”

Juliet watched the dowager’s brows waggle for a moment, then to keep from laughing outright, she studied the top of her cane. “My niece is happily touring Europe with my brother. No dear, this is Lord Montague’s wife.”

The color fled from Lady Scarborough’s face. She grasped the table to steady herself. “His wife?” The words seemed stifled and unnatural. Her glance centered on Juliet. Its glitter revealed a trait of uncertainty that seemed to morph into a blaze of hate.

Heat rose to Juliet’s cheeks. She’d seen women like this ready to take aim at the person standing in their way and flay the skin from her unwitting bones. The dowager had been right to give her a word of warning.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Juliet replied, yet she did not offer her hand. “My husband has told me much about you.”

A fine ebony brow arched. “Has he?”

Juliet noted the woman sounded a bit nervous. She pulled her reticule up against her wrist. “Yes. We were very pleased to accept your offer to join you, in your box, for the opera on the seventeenth.”

The shock over, Juliet found herself under the notable gaze of the woman named Lady Scarborough, whose task it must be to size her up, looking for flaws. Thank goodness she’d not scolded Helen for the change in her hairstyle or the choice of one of her finest frocks this morning.

“Oh, yes,” the dowager chimed in. “You received our note?”

“Note? I-er-no. We have just arrived home. I have not the time to check correspondence.”

“Ah, well, there it is.” The dowager gave a short laugh. “You will see it upon returning home.”

“I hope you enjoyed your outing?” Juliet asked.

“Um, yes.”

“Hunting?”

“Quite.” Lady Scarborough flashed a quick grin, then, clearly hoping to steal the conversation inquired, “So, you come to Madame Beatrice’s often?”

“No, my first gown. My husband and I were married only a few days ago.” As she talked, Juliet stepped across to the table and brushed her hand over some of the silk.

“A wise choice.” Lady Scarborough continued and moved to stand beside her. “No one in London can do better.”

“Yes, I am well pleased.” She looked once again at the blue-green fabric Madame Beatrice had judged too colorful for her. “Such a pretty piece of silk. I’m quite taken with it.”

“Yes,” Lady Scarborough agreed.

“Well, we must be off. Lady Montague?” the dowager called.

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