"Right," Ted said, brushing off his hands. "Albermarle Street, now, jarvey."

"So ye'll be payin' the bloke's fare as well as your'n?" the jarvey asked suspiciously.

"Ye'll be paid," Ted said impatiently, swinging himself into the vehicle with surprising agility for such a big man. It occurred to Juliana that the thump she'd heard must have been Ted's surprise entrance into the hackney.

"Right y'are." The driver, whistling cheerfully, mounted his box. "Go anywhere, do anything, that's Joe Hogg fer ye. Jest as long as I gets me fare. All in a day's work to me."

Juliana kicked the smelly horse blanket under the seat. Presumably the obliging jarvey had lent it to George. After what she'd seen in the streets of London since her arrival in the city, she was not surprised that George had been able to abduct her without interference.

Ted slumped in a corner, regarding her in morose silence.

"How did you know where to look for me?" Juliana asked tentatively.

" 'Is Grace 'ad an inklin'."

So he had read the letter. But why hadn't he said anything… done anything to prevent her giving Ted the slip? But perhaps she hadn't given Ted the slip. "Have you been following me all morning?"

Ted grunted an affirmative.

"So I was never really in any danger from George," Juliana mused, relief giving way to anger. Ted had deliberately let her walk into George's ambush.

Ted made no response. The carriage drew up at Albermarle Street, and Juliana jumped to the ground after Ted. Leaving him haggling with the jarvey, she stalked up the steps and into the house.

"Where's His Grace, Catlett?"

"Here." The duke spoke from the library door before Catlett could answer. His gray eyes were cold as a winter sky, his mouth tight. "Let us go to your bedchamber. Lady Edgecombe." He gestured that she should precede him up the stairs.

Juliana hesitated, then acquiesced, reasoning that she couldn't give full rein to her own outrage in front of the butler. The duke might consider he had a grievance, but she had one as well.

She marched up the stairs and threw open the door of her bedchamber, swinging round to face him as he entered behind her. He slammed the door and, before she could open her mouth, took her by the shoulders and shook her. "Just look at you, Juliana. You look as if you've been dragged through a hedge backward. You're a disgraceful sight." He propelled her toward the cheval glass. "Take a look at yourself! Anyone would think you'd been rolling in a ditch with a farmhand!"

Juliana was so taken aback by this seemingly irrelevant attack that she couldn't speak for a minute. She stared at her image in the glass. Her hair was tumbling loose around her shoulders, bits of fluff and what looked like straw clinging to the curls. Her gown was covered in dust and woolen fibers and what were clearly horse hairs. Her face was smudged with dirt.

She found her voice. "What do you expect me to look like after I've been manhandled by that oaf, rolled in a stinking horse blanket, and half suffocated? And whose fault is it, I should like to know? You let me walk into his trap." Her voice shook with renewed anger. "You're an unmitigated whoreson!" She rubbed the side of her hand over her mouth, trying to rid her tongue and lips of still-clinging threads of blanket hair.

"So George is responsible for your state! Dear God, you are an incorrigible chit!" Tarquin exclaimed. "He does what he's been threatening to do for weeks because you almost invite him to, and then you dare blame me for your reckless stupidity."

"Yes, I do," she cried. "Ted was following me all morning. You read Lucy's letter and you knew where I was going, and you told Ted to let George abduct me."

"Oh, now wait a minute!" His hands closed hard over her shoulders again. "Hold your tongue and listen to me. You deliberately exposed yourself to a danger that you knew was out there. You deliberately chose to evade the protection I had provided for you. You did the same with Lucien, and though I'm willing to accept some share of the blame there, I will not shoulder any responsibility for this morning! Do you hear me?" He shook her in vigorous emphasis.

"Maybe I did underestimate George, but you aided and abetted him," Juliana stated, aware, to her fury, that tears were starting in her eyes. "You're a treacherous cur!" She sniffed and dashed a hand across her eyes. "Of all the heartless, vile, despicable things to do. You let me walk into George's trap. You let me be frightened and manhandled. You let me think I was in danger when I wasn't."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said impatiently. "I had no idea George was on the scene this morning. I knew only that you were planning some expedition with Dennison's girls. I didn't tell you I knew because I rather hoped that your better judgment would prevail. When it didn't, I sent Ted after you. I never tell Ted how to do his job. His instructions were to see that no harm came to you and to bring you back, when I intended to make my feelings known to you in no uncertain terms. How he accomplished his task was his business."

Juliana swallowed, her anger doused as effectively as a fire with a bucket of water. "You didn't tell him to let me be kidnapped?"

"No, of course I didn't. But he obviously thought you needed a lesson. Ted doesn't take kindly to people attempting to get the better of him."

"Oh." Rather forlornly, Juliana wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

Tarquin released his grip on her shoulders, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, and briskly wiped her nose and her eyes. "Weeping won't improve your appearance."

"I'm only crying because I'm angry," she said. "Or at least I was. But I still don't see how you can say my actions have nothing to do with you. If you hadn't forbidden me to see my friends, then I wouldn't have had to try to go alone. You have the right to forbid them under your roof, but you don't have the right to prevent me from visiting them under theirs."

"We have a contract," he stated flatly. "And one of its clauses is that you behave in a manner befitting Viscountess Edgecombe. Consorting with whores is not appropriate behavior. Wandering the streets looking like a haystack is not appropriate behavior. Therefore, you will not do it."

Juliana turned away from her image in the glass. It lent too much weight to the duke's argument. She would not back down on her right to choose her friends. But nothing would be served by saying so at this point. "You speak of a contract, my lord duke. Can it be a true contract when one side was blackmailed into signing it?"

"You signed it in exchange for my protection, for the security and comfort of my home, for the assurance that you would never be in want. That's a strange kind of blackmail to my mind." His voice was icy.

"And if I hadn't signed it, you would have betrayed me," she threw at him bitterly.

"Did I ever say that?"

Her mouth opened in astonishment. "No, but… but you implied it."

He shrugged. "How you choose to interpret my words is not my responsibility."

“How could you say that?" She stared at him in disbelief. "'Of all the treacherous, slippery snakes! Oh, go away and leave me alone!" She turned away again with an angry gesture, trying to control her tears.

Tarquin regarded her averted back in frowning silence, running his fingertips reflectively over his lips. He would never have betrayed her to the law, but there was no way Juliana could have known that. He had, however, rescued her from a miserable life on the streets and probably a premature, wretched death. The fact that he'd done so for his own ends didn't change that truth. Why wouldn't she just accept the situation? He couldn't understand what she had to object to in her present life. She enjoyed the passion they shared. She was safe from Lucien. She was provided for for the rest of her life. So why did she take such pleasure in defying him? She was the most perverse creature he'd ever had dealings with. If he'd known she would cause him so much trouble when he'd watched her through Mistress Dennison's peephole, he would have looked elsewhere for the tool to control Lucien.