“Juliet, you are white as a sheet. Do you suppose you are ill?”
Robert’s furrowed brow only made my stomach clench with guilt, for how like him to look after my every need.
“Some wine might help,” I suggested.
Before I could speak another word, Robert was up on his feet, in search of a drink for me. He returned with a glass a moment later.
I sipped slowly, procrastinating the moment when I must speak again. At last I set down my wine on a nearby table. “Perhaps I should excuse myself. I find I am quite tired, and we leave early tomorrow.”
Robert nodded. “Yes, we can’t have you languishing in the carriage tomorrow.”
“I am sorry I spoiled the evening.” I stared at him for a moment, hurting for him. His mother’s manipulation had made casualties of us both.
“Juliet,” Robert said, shaking his head. “You did anything but. If only I could express how happy you’ve made me. Tomorrow we will be back at Lymington Park, and our time here will all be a distant memory. Soon our life together will begin at last.”
And indeed, that is what I told myself. That the minute I stepped foot in Lymington Park, I would leave behind my memories of Halstead and the whirl of emotions he’d set ablaze within me. From that moment on I would be Robert’s and Robert’s alone.
If only I could convince my fickle heart.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lymington Park, one month later
“Betsy, she doesn’t need above three or four dresses. We shall return from London the day after the wedding.” Aunt Agnes was giving instructions about every minute detail for our journey.
Just the mention of what the next few days would bring was enough to set me on edge. I closed my eyes, trying to bar the image of Halstead from forming in my mind, but it was no use. An ache formed in my belly.
Betsy nodded, returning several dresses to my wardrobe. I rubbed the sensitive skin of my palm. Though the pain was gone and the burn had healed, the new skin was a bright pink, a constant reminder of the night I’d rescued my mountain goat from the fire. I drew my hand into a fist; I had promised myself I would leave all memories of my time at Shaldorn behind me.
“Has the mail come already?” I asked Aunt Agnes, hoping for a letter from Harry. I hadn’t heard from him since our return to Lymington Park. Worry for him weighed on me constantly.
“There’s no letter from Harry, if that’s what you’re wondering. Perhaps he has nothing to say.” The tone of her voice gave me pause. Could it be she was withholding his letters from me? But what could I do, even if she were?
“We eat in an hour, Juliet,” she said. “We must be early to bed since we’re off at daybreak.”
I nodded, the movement wooden. Sometimes it was hard for me to believe Aunt Agnes could carry on as if our time together, my agreement to marry Robert, weren’t a farce instigated by her threats.
Without bothering to explain myself, I slipped out of the room as she and Betsy continued talking over my things. Making decisions in my stead. It hardly seemed worth the effort to try to make such small decisions when I had been robbed of the one that really mattered.
I rubbed my hands up and down my sleeves as I made my way down the corridor. Winter had settled in for good since our return home, with several bouts of early snowfall. The windy draft seemed to seep through each crack and crevice of Lymington Park, and the corridors were particularly bad. The manor was in quite a state of disrepair, and even with a fire burning in every room, I could never seem to get warm. No doubt Aunt Agnes was already planning out the improvements she would make with Ellen’s dowry. And mine.
“Juliet?” I looked up to find Hugh just a few steps in front of me. “Ellen tells me you haven’t responded to her letters.” He held out a piece of correspondence. “Or, rather, she specifically says you ‘speak of nothing of import and answer none of my questions.’”
Guilt touched the back of my throat. “We’ve been away but a few weeks; what is there to tell?”
“I may be a trickster and a tease, Juliet, but give me more credit than that. I am hardly an idiot.”
Oh, but how much easier it would be if he were. My lungs tightened.
Hugh stepped closer, his voice a low whisper. “You are doing Robert no favors, you know, if you don’t return his affection.”
I made the mistake of meeting his eyes, and the accusation I saw there nearly unraveled me. For a moment I teetered on the edge of losing hold of myself, before a wave of calm washed over me, the tide of it pushing me within myself to a place of safety. From there I could return Hugh’s pulsing stare and feel nothing.
“There are a great many pushes and pulls in any relationship. I don’t expect you to understand mine.” I pictured Harry’s face.
Hugh’s gaze was unwavering, unyielding, but it did not move me. Finally, he blew out a sigh. “Whatever happens, I hope you will still be friends with Ellen. She cares for you more than you know.”
I gave a firm nod. “Of course.” Perhaps one day she would forgive me my choice: hurting her brother to protect mine.
He gave me one last searching glance before he turned and walked away.
Protecting Harry was the right thing. But the cost. I pressed a hand against my abdomen and released a tiny wisp of air.
Oh, the cost.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
London, one day later
As grand as the large church was, in the middle of November it was only just better than standing outside in the winter air. I wasn’t sure why I’d expected otherwise. I supposed
