Page 3 of Wicked Exile
Miss Thomson?
It had been a long time since anyone had referred to her thusly.
Juliet set into place her meticulously contrived smile. The one she used to let men know they weren’t going to get exactly what they wanted, but an even more desirable option—if she sold it right. “I am afraid I cannot be the one to help you, Lord Hedrun. Regrettably so, on my part, as your offer sounds extremely generous.” Her right hand lifted, her fingers pointing toward the door of the study. “Luckily, there are plenty of beautiful women here at the Willows that have retired from their work at the Den of Diablo. I am positive that for the right coin, one of them would be happy to accompany you north and play the part. Jasper will be able to help you with that.”
With a quick incline of her head to Lord Hedrun, she handed the empty glass back to Jasper and spun, exiting the room as she heard the Scot grunt again.
She’d made it five steps along the hallway before the study door clicked closed behind her.
Jasper rushed to catch up to her. “Juliet, wait.”
She turned around to him. “I don’t want to do it, Jasper. Don’t ask. The last thing I want to do in this moment is to go north with a beastly, grunting, burly Scotsman.”
“Ye don’t understand.Lord Vontmourknows you’re here.”
She froze. “He what?” Her head shook. Impossible. “No.”
Jasper nodded. “Yes. It was an accident. Hannah inadvertently told him—she’s still so new she didn’t ken the history of him—his infatuation with you. She thought she was making conversation with him.”
“Blast.” Her fisted hand slammed into her thigh. This was the second time in a month she’d needed to escape to the Willows to avoid that man. Lord Vontmour had gotten progressively worse during the last three months. Demanding. Possessive. Belligerent.
So much so that Edgar had to tear Vontmour off of her the last time he’d been at the Den. Juliet had left for the Willows the next day. Best to give Vontmour time to cool.
“Hannah didn’t ken, and after she told him where you were, she figured something was off about him, so she told me. She feels terrible.”
Juliet’s eyes closed, her breath seething though her teeth. “Dammit.”
Jasper’s thumb pointed over his shoulder. “It’s why I brought Evan here—it solves the problem, at least for now. Both his and yours.”
“No—that”—her forefinger spun in a circle toward the study door—“solves nothing. That is a complication. You know I don’t stand for complications.”
He cringed. “You really need to tell Hoppler about Lord Vontmour.”
Her hand lifted, waving in front of him. “No—not now—Pen is dying as we speak, so we will not bother him with this.”
Jasper shook his head. “But—”
“No—don’t you dare tell him.” Her glare cut into him. “This is nothing. Nothing compared to what he’s dealing with. And it’s exactly why I can’t leave him at the moment.”
“I ken, but Hoppler is the only one that can control Lord Vontmour.” He shrugged. “Save for me killing the bastard.”
“Don’t even think it.” Her arms threaded together across her chest, her look going upward to the coffered ceiling that lined the corridor. “No, we are taking care of Hoppler at the moment—not the other way around.” Her glare dropped to Jasper. “I repeat, we will not bother Hoppler about this. Swear it.”
“But I don’t ken if any of us can stop Lord Vontmour except for him. Ye ken Hoppler has something on almost everyone that walks through the doors of the Den.”
Juliet exhaled a long breath, her look going over Jasper’s shoulder to the door of the study. “He’s strong—that one?”
“Embarrassingly so.”
“His character?”
“The best of the clan. Honest to a fault.”
“Did you tell him any of this—about Lord Vontmour?”
“No. I only told Evan I had the perfect person for the job.” Jasper nodded with his head to the upper level. “This is how we take care of Hoppler. How we keep you safe until ye are safe. This will disappear you for a while—long enough to get you away from Lord Vontmour and for Hoppler to have his head straight enough to take care of it.”
“But when—no—ifPen dies…” She paused, swallowing hard. “He will need—”