Read Online When You Give a Duke a Diamond by Shana Galen - Free Book Online
Authors: Shana Galen
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Fallon and Lily. She had to get out of here. She began to rise then ducked down again as a shadow fell across the balcony. “My lady?” a velvet voice asked.
It was Pelham.
Go away. Go away.
He stepped onto the stone floor.
Go away!
“What the bloody damn hell are you doing here?”
Juliette started. How had Pelham seen her? “I—”
“Why are you crouching behind that door?” He pulled it closed and stared down at her, frowning. “What’s going on?”
“I have to leave,” she whispered. “I must go.”
He moved aside. “I won’t stand in your way.”
But she stumbled when she tried to walk. She would have fallen if Pelham hadn’t caught her. This was not the time to notice that he smelled like mint or that his chest was wonderfully broad. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, pushing away from him.
“Wait a moment.” He caught her arm, holding her still and—though she wouldn’t admit it—keeping her steady. “You’re trembling, and you’re too pale. Are you ill?”
“No.” She didn’t want to tell him what she’d seen. She didn’t want to be the one to give him the news his fiancée was dead, to tell him his betrothed’s blood was seeping onto the ground just beneath them. “I saw—”
A shot boomed through the night, and Juliette felt something hot zing past her cheek. Little chinks of stone scattered on the balcony at her feet. She blinked and gazed up at the sky. “Fireworks?”
Pelham grabbed her and pushed her down, crouching beside her. Inside the ballroom, the strings in the orchestra rose in a blazing crescendo.
“What are you doing?”
“That was a shot from a pistol, and if my guess is correct, it narrowly missed your head.”
Juliette’s trembling turned to violent shaking. “But—”
“Look.”
She did. His finger indicated the side of Carlton House. A small lead ball was lodged in the stone.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?” She touched her head, but he removed his handkerchief and wound it about her upper arm, just where her gloves ended. A few chinks of stone had embedded in her flesh, and tiny drops of blood marred her silver gown.
“We have to get out of here.” She began scooting toward the ballroom. “Someone is shooting at me.”
He glanced into the darkness beyond the balcony. “Why would someone be shooting at you?”
She blinked, having trouble concentrating.
“Who is shooting and why?” he said slowly, as though speaking to a small child.
“Oh. It’s Lucifer. He must know what I saw.” She would have dashed into the ballroom, but he held her good arm.
“The devil? Have you hit your head?”
“No. Not the devil, though I’m beginning to think he’s a not so distant relation. Lucifer—the man who killed your fiancée.”
Pelham’s jaw dropped, and his hand on her arm opened.
Now free, she plunged into the crowds in the ballroom.
Six
Pelham stood completely still for several moments. His ears rang with the duchess’s last words.
Lucifer—the man who killed your fiancée.
He shook his head. Had his hearing failed him? It made no sense. Lady Elizabeth was alive and well. He’d left her no more than a quarter of an hour ago. Left her right here in this very spot. He glanced around the empty balcony.
So where was she?
She wasn’t dead. Pelham didn’t believe that for even a moment.
But the girl—courtesan—had looked quite frightened. And there was that pistol shot. He glanced at the stone wall, where the lead ball was still embedded. Certainly there was a reasonable explanation for all of this. Courtesans were notoriously dramatic. He would find Lady Elizabeth, and that would answer one question.
He bent to gather Lady Elizabeth’s fallen pelisse and strode through the ballroom. The crowds were as thick as the locusts in an Egyptian plague, but they parted easily for him. No one wanted to be in the way of the Dangerous Duke. Not when he had a purpose so clearly in mind.
He scanned the ballroom, did not see his
It was Pelham.
Go away. Go away.
He stepped onto the stone floor.
Go away!
“What the bloody damn hell are you doing here?”
Juliette started. How had Pelham seen her? “I—”
“Why are you crouching behind that door?” He pulled it closed and stared down at her, frowning. “What’s going on?”
“I have to leave,” she whispered. “I must go.”
He moved aside. “I won’t stand in your way.”
But she stumbled when she tried to walk. She would have fallen if Pelham hadn’t caught her. This was not the time to notice that he smelled like mint or that his chest was wonderfully broad. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, pushing away from him.
“Wait a moment.” He caught her arm, holding her still and—though she wouldn’t admit it—keeping her steady. “You’re trembling, and you’re too pale. Are you ill?”
“No.” She didn’t want to tell him what she’d seen. She didn’t want to be the one to give him the news his fiancée was dead, to tell him his betrothed’s blood was seeping onto the ground just beneath them. “I saw—”
A shot boomed through the night, and Juliette felt something hot zing past her cheek. Little chinks of stone scattered on the balcony at her feet. She blinked and gazed up at the sky. “Fireworks?”
Pelham grabbed her and pushed her down, crouching beside her. Inside the ballroom, the strings in the orchestra rose in a blazing crescendo.
“What are you doing?”
“That was a shot from a pistol, and if my guess is correct, it narrowly missed your head.”
Juliette’s trembling turned to violent shaking. “But—”
“Look.”
She did. His finger indicated the side of Carlton House. A small lead ball was lodged in the stone.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?” She touched her head, but he removed his handkerchief and wound it about her upper arm, just where her gloves ended. A few chinks of stone had embedded in her flesh, and tiny drops of blood marred her silver gown.
“We have to get out of here.” She began scooting toward the ballroom. “Someone is shooting at me.”
He glanced into the darkness beyond the balcony. “Why would someone be shooting at you?”
She blinked, having trouble concentrating.
“Who is shooting and why?” he said slowly, as though speaking to a small child.
“Oh. It’s Lucifer. He must know what I saw.” She would have dashed into the ballroom, but he held her good arm.
“The devil? Have you hit your head?”
“No. Not the devil, though I’m beginning to think he’s a not so distant relation. Lucifer—the man who killed your fiancée.”
Pelham’s jaw dropped, and his hand on her arm opened.
Now free, she plunged into the crowds in the ballroom.
Six
Pelham stood completely still for several moments. His ears rang with the duchess’s last words.
Lucifer—the man who killed your fiancée.
He shook his head. Had his hearing failed him? It made no sense. Lady Elizabeth was alive and well. He’d left her no more than a quarter of an hour ago. Left her right here in this very spot. He glanced around the empty balcony.
So where was she?
She wasn’t dead. Pelham didn’t believe that for even a moment.
But the girl—courtesan—had looked quite frightened. And there was that pistol shot. He glanced at the stone wall, where the lead ball was still embedded. Certainly there was a reasonable explanation for all of this. Courtesans were notoriously dramatic. He would find Lady Elizabeth, and that would answer one question.
He bent to gather Lady Elizabeth’s fallen pelisse and strode through the ballroom. The crowds were as thick as the locusts in an Egyptian plague, but they parted easily for him. No one wanted to be in the way of the Dangerous Duke. Not when he had a purpose so clearly in mind.
He scanned the ballroom, did not see his
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