While it was usual for the groom to make the application, no man of God would grant a devil a licence to procreate. Despite his daughter’s failings, the baron commanded respect amongst his peers. Besides, Devlin refused to wait, refused to give Miss Bromfield an opportunity to flee.
“You expect me to force the girl?” the baron said, insolence abandoned.
“I expect you to honour the wager.” Devlin shrugged into his coat. “Do not attempt to make things difficult. Do not force me to do something you might live to regret. Your daughter will be my wife, or I shall ruin her name for good.”
Chapter Two
“The master didn’t ring for more tea,” Nora panted as she raced into the kitchen, her cheeks glowing berry-red. “Lord knows what’s happened between them this time, but Miss Bromfield threw a plate of eggs at the wall.”
Nora hurried off to the broom cupboard and returned with a brush and scuttle.
Juliet Duval slipped the dinner menus back between the pages of her ledger and closed the leather-bound book. “No doubt the baron has refused to increase her clothing allowance. We should be grateful it is only eggs. Last time it was the port decanter.”
“Oh, they’re not arguing about money but about some devil of a gentleman. Miss Bromfield thumped the table and shouted so loud it shook the chandelier.” The maid glanced back over her shoulder. “I’d best hurry as there’s no telling what she’ll do next.”
Juliet watched the maid scurry away, relieved she’d taken sanctuary in the kitchen. No one could control Hannah Bromfield when the lady was in a temper. And as the baron’s illegitimate daughter, Juliet often took the brunt of her half-sister’s rage and knew when to make herself scarce.
Scooping up the ledger and hugging it to her chest, Juliet went in search of Mrs Wendell. She found the housekeeper upstairs, hands clasped behind her back as she inspected the new maid’s ability to sweep and clean the grate.
Noticing Juliet waiting on the landing, Mrs Wendell instructed the maid to continue with her chores.
“I have the amendments to this week’s menus.” Juliet withdrew the list from her ledger and handed it to the housekeeper. “Miss Bromfield insists on celery sauce with her glazed lamb and refuses to entertain the guinea fowl.”
Mrs Wendell scanned the notes. “Is that what all the noise was about? I feared you might be in the midst of it again.” She patted Juliet’s upper arm with genuine affection.
The staff cared not that Juliet was born on the wrong side of the blanket and treated her more like family than Hannah or the baron ever had.
Baron Bromfield considered Juliet a useful inconvenience and had given her the task of assisting the housekeeper in the running of his home. She slept in the servants’ quarters. Ate in the kitchen. Wore the garb of the lower classes. The only time she left the house was to accompany Hannah on her endless shopping trips—someone had to help the footman carry the boxes.
“Oh, Miss Bromfield did more than shout when she demanded damson tart,” Juliet said wit
h amusement for her sister often behaved like a spoilt child. “She jabbed her finger as if it were a blade.” Juliet sighed. “I have no idea what they’re arguing about this time, and for my own sanity wish to keep it that way.”
Pity flashed in Mrs Wendell’s brown eyes. “You do well to remain so calm when they provoke you as they do.”
“Come not between the dragon and his wrath. Or so my mother used to say.”
“And never were wiser words spoken.”
Juliet’s chest swelled when she thought of the dainty lady with a huge heart. She was like her mother in so many ways—in frame, in height, had the same vibrant red colouring and sprinkling of freckles on her nose.
“My mother received her education on the stage. An education in life and Shakespeare.”
A sudden thud on the stairs captured their attention. Nora appeared, still flushed and breathless.
“How many times must I tell you?” Mrs Wendell chided in an authoritative tone. “No running on the stairs. You’re liable to twist an ankle and then where will we be?”
Nora nodded. “I’m sorry, Mrs Wendell, it’s just his lordship wants to see Miss Duval in the dining room, right away.”
Juliet resisted the urge to close her eyes and groan. Whenever Hannah was in danger of losing an argument, she sought to deflect their father’s wrath.
“I shall be right down, Nora.”
Mrs Wendell waited for Nora to leave before placing her hand on Juliet’s arm. “With any luck, Miss Bromfield will soon marry, and then we shall all find peace.”
“Peace?” Juliet smiled though inside she was closing down the hatches, darting about to reinforce the gates. No one could hurt her once she’d bolstered her defences. “Knowing of Miss Bromfield’s predilection for cruelty, she will insist I go with her.”
A heavy stillness hung in the air outside the dining room. Juliet lingered in the hall and tried to gauge the mood beyond the door. The argument had dissolved into a disturbing silence.