Free When You Give a Duke a Diamond by Shana Galen Page A

don’t know. I just want to get away. Please drive me home or allow me to get out.” She put her hand on the door, and he covered it.
    “Now wait just a moment, madam. You cannot leave the scene of a crime. You are a witness. We must call the magistrate.” If she was lying, that threat ought to frighten her. But she only looked more tired.
    “Rules.” She shook her head. “You may call the magistrate and go back to the scene and do whatever you like. I am leaving.”
    He tightened his grip. “No, you are not. You will accompany me back to the balcony so I can see this body for myself. If there is indeed a body, then we will discuss our next step.”
    Though Pelham did not think any discussion was called for. Obviously the magistrate would have to be called.
    Juliette blinked at him. “You expect me to go back? To look at a dead body? No. I will not do it. And if you had any sense, you would not go back either. He was shooting at us!”
    “Who?”
    She threw her arms into the air. “Have you not been listening ? Lucifer! He must have seen me and realized I was a witness. That was why he was shooting. He doesn’t want witnesses.”
    Pelham nodded. That would make sense—if the remainder of her story were true. But he was not convinced. “That might have been a shot fired from a pistol,” he conceded.
    “You said yourself it was. You showed me the ball.” The color in her cheeks was exceedingly high now. She looked quite flushed.
    “That doesn’t mean you were the target.”
    She gaped at him. “You cannot be serious.”
    “We overlooked the park. It could have been poachers.”
    “Poachers?”
    And before he knew what she was about, she thrust open the door of the carriage. He reached for her, expecting her to try and flee, but she pointed toward the street. “We are in London —do you see? There aren’t poachers in the park!”
    He had to admit it was far-fetched, but no more so than her assertion. When he said this aloud, she shook her head and let out a small scream. “You are completely daft. Completely!”
    Behind her, the small crowd gathered around the carriage, closed in, trying to catch her words. “Madam, if you would lower your voice. You are attracting a crowd.”
    She jumped out of the carriage before the footman could even assist her. “Do you think I care? After what you did tonight, my reputation is in tatters.”
    “Interesting observation,” he said, stepping out of the carriage after her. “You are a courtesan. I didn’t think you need worry about your reputation.”
    “That’s because you are daft.”
    There was a sharp gasp from the crowd, and she turned to them.
    “That’s right. Will here—the Duke of Pelham—is daft. He should be committed to Bedlam. But instead, I am going to traipse behind Carlton House with him and then admit myself to Bedlam, because only a daft person would go back.”
    She grabbed Pelham’s hand and pulled him forward. “What are you doing?” he asked.
    “You said you wanted to see the balcony. Obviously I shall not be allowed to leave until I prove what I said to you. So let us proceed.” She tugged him back toward the gates of Carlton House. The crowds followed until they reached the men guarding the gates. At that point, Pelham and she were admitted again and the crowds barred.
    Pelham noted the crowd did not take their exclusion happily. There were jeers and boos and several scuffles.
    Mrs.—Juliette seemed oblivious to it all. She pulled him along, wending her way toward the back of the house rather than starting for the portico and the formal entry. Pelham tugged his hand free of hers, but when she looked back at him, he motioned for her to continue. He followed silently, the only sound the faint strings of the orchestra and the crunch of his shoes.
    When they’d reached the back of the house and the prince’s gardens, Juliette paused, ostensibly to study the house and determine which balcony they had stood on.
    “That one,”