Page 57 of The Paid Companion

Juliana hesitated and then nodded. “I can see that it is different for you. I must admit that I am envious. How do you do it?”

“How do I do what?”

“How do you make St. Merryn pay attention to what you have to say? How do you stop him from taking command of your life? How do you prevent him from having his own way in everything?”

“That is a rather personal question, Juliana,” she said. “I wonder if we might get to the reason why you sought me out here in the conservatory?”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to pry. It is just that I cannot help but be curious about the woman who, uh—”

“Took your place?” Elenora suggested.

“Yes, I suppose you could put it like that. I merely wondered how you deal with him.”

“Let’s just say that my relationship with St. Merryn is considerably different than the one you had with him.”

“I see.” Juliana nodded again, this time with a sage air. “Perhaps you do not fear him because you are so much older than me and have so much more experience of the world and of men.”

Elenora discovered that she was gritting her teeth. “No doubt. Now, if you don’t mind, what was it you wished to say to me?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Juliana straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “This is very difficult, Miss Lodge, but I come to you as a supplicant.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Juliana held out one hand in a graceful, beseeching gesture. “I must beg you for a great favor. You are my only hope. I do not know where else to turn.”

Elenora wondered for a moment if Juliana was playing some sort of bizarre game. But the other woman’s desperation was plain. It was clear that whatever else was going on here, she was entirely serious.

“I’m sorry,” Elenora said, softening her tone in spite of her irritation. Juliana really did seem quite anxious. “I fail to see how I could possibly be in a position to be of service to you.”

“You are engaged to St. Merryn.”

“What has that got to do with it?” Elenora asked warily.

Juliana cleared her throat. “The gossip is that, although you are not yet wed, the two of you appear to be on veryintimateterms.”

Elenora went cold. Intimate terms was a polite euphemism and everyone knew it. She told herself that it was only to be expected that Society would speculate that she and Arthur were involved in an affair. Indeed, she ought to have anticipated such rumors. Unlike Juliana, she was not an obviously innocent eighteen-year-old living under the stern protection of her parents.

As far as the Polite World was concerned, Elenora reminded herself, she was not only a mature woman, she was a lady of mystery who was residing under the same roof as her even more mysterious fiancé. Margaret’s presence in that household gave the situation a socially acceptable façade, but that did not keep tongues from wagging.

It should have come as no surprise to learn that the scandalmongers were convinced that she wasintimatewith Arthur.

“One would do well to remember that gossip is not always entirely accurate,” she said, trying to put a quelling note into her words.

“I did not mean to offend you,” Juliana said. “But I wanted you to know that I understand that you have a very close relationship with St. Merryn. Why, they say he was seen kissing you quite passionately the other night in the gardens outside a certain ballroom.” She paused. “He never kissed me like that.”

“Yes, well—”

“In addition, there is a rumor going around that he actually promised to issue a challenge to a gentleman who spoke to you in the park.”

“I assure you, that incident was inflated out of all proportion,” Elenora said quickly.

“The thing is, St. Merryn actually issued the threat.” Juliana sighed. “Several people overheard him. That is the whole point, you see. He did not even bother to give chase the night Roland and I ran away.”

“Did you want him to go after you?” Elenora asked softly, suddenly very curious to know the truth.

“No, of course not.” Juliana tapped the edge of her mask lightly against a wooden workbench. “Indeed, I was profoundly grateful that he did not come after us. I was terrified that he might hurt Roland or even kill him in a duel. Instead, I’m told that St. Merryn went to his club and played cards that evening.” She made a rueful face. “Which merely confirmed what I had believed all along.”

“What was that?”