A small crowd greeted the couple as they emerged from the chapel, but my own joy for them was eclipsed by the realization I’d had inside the chapel. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—marry Robert. Though it might be the easier path now, it was unfair to both of us, and we would ultimately both pay the price.
Still, I said nothing, for as determined as I was to right this terrible wrong, my mind raked over what to do about Harry. I had no doubt Aunt Agnes would make good on her promise to retaliate, using him and his future against me. But I was determined not to bend to her will, and I’d stop at nothing to protect him.
I could head straight to Harrow and sneak him away. I’d find a way to protect Harry for the few weeks until my birthday, when his guardianship came to me.
Surely there must be a way to keep both of us safe from Aunt Agnes’s designs. I pressed my lips together, resolute.
Thankfully, the momentum of the wedding party distracted Robert from my silence. As we climbed into the carriage and headed for the banquet to honor the newly married couple, a debilitating sadness overtook me. I studied Robert: his kind eyes, the smile lines that creased around his mouth, the small bump on his earlobe—each of his features so dear, so familiar.
I turned to look through the window, though I saw nothing. Ending my engagement to Robert was tantamount to ending our friendship, and melancholy worked its way through me, hollowing out my insides. It was all I could do not to cry.
Deeper down, filling the carved-out parts of me, was the aching realization that freeing myself from Robert would change nothing between Halstead and me. The man had pride, and he’d all but cast it aside when he’d rescinded his vow not to marry and asked for my hand. Perhaps, though . . . if he could see into my heart . . . I banished the thought, the impossibility of it. I had ruined my chances with him. The tightness in my middle was so severe I almost doubled over.
All too soon Robert woke me from my reverie. “Juliet, we have arrived.” He handed me down from the carriage, and we followed the others up the stairs into Halstead’s London townhome, though it was so expansive it could hardly be called such.
The butler ushered us in and led us down a corridor. Along our way we passed a long dining hall, where a lavish U-shaped table had been laid out. We continued on and were guided to a large formal drawing room to wait as the rest of the guests arrived. Though weddings were usually small affairs, the house of Halstead was large and powerful, which made for a long list of people who wanted to wish the wedded couple well.
“Robert.” I touched the sleeve of his jacket. “I need to speak with you.”
He glanced down at me. “Yes?”
“In private,” I whispered, for I found my throat closing slowly, making it impossible to speak at a normal level.
Robert’s expression became wary. “They will surely call us in as soon as Hugh and Lady Ellen arrive. Can it not wait until after?”
I shook my head. My mouth tasted of ash.
Robert gave a soft sigh. “Very well.” He led me back the way we had come, out into the corridor. After a few moments we found an empty salon. The room gave us a small amount of privacy, even with the door open.
Tears threatened the moment I tried to speak.
Robert quickly removed a handkerchief from his pocket. “Juliet, you mustn’t make a scene right before the banquet.”
His disapproval gave me the push of courage I needed.
I fumbled with the necklace he’d given me less than an hour before. “I am sorry, Robert, but I cannot marry you.”
A parade of emotions crossed his face: confusion, frustration, worry. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. I have been dishonest with you.” I took a breath. “And myself. I hope you know I tried to love you in the way you hoped; I really did. But the sisterly affection I feel for you does not belong in a marriage.”
Robert was silent, and I went on with determination. “I will never forget your kindness toward me. When I came to live at Lymington Park, I was nothing but a shadow, and had it not been for your care and concern, so I might have remained.” Memories, so many memories washed over me—sad and happy, heavy and light. “You took care of me, looked after me. And you’ve done so ever since. But much as I appreciate all you’ve done for me, I do not love you. And I am convinced I could not make you happy.” I set the necklace in his hands.
Robert shook his head. “No, you do not mean it.”
I bit my lip and nodded. “But I do. Much as I hate to hurt you, I do.”
He shook his head again, the dumbfounded look on his face growing. “No. There must be something I might say or do to change your mind. Please.”
“I am sorry.” I laid a hand on his arm, wishing to take away the pain in his expression.
He shook himself free of my touch and crossed to the door.
“Robert,” I called after him.
He turned back, his hand resting on the doorknob. “You wish to have nothing to do with me, so I am merely honoring your wishes.” His face was lined with tension.
I followed him as he stalked out.
“What’s this?” Aunt Agnes appeared out of nowhere.
Robert’s nostrils flared. “Juliet says she will not marry me.”
“What?” Her head whipped toward me.
“I am ending my engagement with Robert,” I said simply. A sense of calm overtook me. “It was wrong for me to have agreed to marry him when—”
He didn’t wait for me to finish before he walked away.
Aunt Agnes’s
