She Ruined the Marquess: A Historical Romance (Unexpected Love Book 1)

by Anna Macy

  Finally, she felt her tears slow to a stop, leaving that all too familiar, gritty void. Lurching to her feet, Juliet shook her sleeping limbs into action. Making her way down the hall and away from where there would soon be a flurry of activity, Juliet trudged to her room.

  The autumn sun was low on the horizon, and she knew that soon she would be expected to attend dinner with the man she wanted to marry and the man who wanted to marry her.

  They were two different men, for two very different versions of herself. One was the dutiful daughter who longed for her family’s acceptance: the other, a Juliet who had a taste of passion and the chance for a life of love.

  The halls, doors, and stairways passed in a blur until finally, she made her way to her room. Stepping inside, she was startled to find not only Amelia, as she expected, but also William. He was reclining by her small fireplace, his leg casually crossed at the knee, smiling and talking to a flustered looking Amelia.

  However, one look at her face had him bolting from his seat and to her side. “Juliet, Juliet, what happened?” He said, his hands rushing over her face and shoulders as if checking her for injuries.

  She looked up at him blankly. Barely feeling his warm, gentle hands on her body, the angry, disappointed voice of her mother still pounded in her ears. Juliet looked at him, his worried expression, his sharp features filled with anxiety over her silence.

  “Nothing,” Juliet said curtly, “Nothing’s wrong.” She stepped away hard, putting an obvious amount of space between them. William’s bright eyes flitted over her face, confusion now tainting his worry.

  “Are you sure?” He said slowly, his deep voice low and soothing.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I need to get ready for dinner,” Juliet said, turning and walking over to her window, showing him her long, tense back. If she had looked over her shoulder, she would have seen the sorrowful gaze that Amelia and William exchanged before he quietly walked to the doorway.

  “Whatever you’d like, Juliet, I’ll see you at dinner.” William’s voice was laced with sadness, and moments later, she heard her door close gently.

  “My lady, what has gotten into you? That man came here to stop your marriage to a well-dressed toad. The least you could do was treat him with some respect! Never mind that he is head over heels in love with you,” Amelia's voice scolded her.

  Juliet wished more than anything that she could turn and fall into her soft breast and pour out all her sorrows to her closest confidant. But every time she tried to open her mouth, she saw that face, the one her mother had made, screaming at her to finally do what she was told.

  Juliet stayed still, her hands clenched to her sides, staring out her window, praying she would have the strength to decide what she needed to do. And what she should do.

  ***

  Dinner that night was shaping up to be a festive event. The table was elaborately decorated, the beautiful tableware gleamed. Juliet habitually smoothed her hands over a soft lilac-colored dress that she hoped would bring some color to her cheeks.

  To her, the face in the mirror had remained pale, lifeless, as she prepared herself mentally for what would come next.

  Amelia had been silent the entire time she helped Juliet into her dress, which she didn’t blame her for. Now, as Juliet stood in the foyer between her mother and Marian, she could practically feel herself wilting in shame. Shame for the way she had talked to William after he had come to help. Every part of her wished she could run to him, kiss him, claim him for her own in front of everyone.

  But it was not that simple. If she married Lord Faber, she would have a life of luxury with a husband she could barely stomach being around. It would sustain her family, sustain Greystone’s proud name, her father's legacy. But at what cost?

  Juliet knew that life would William would be filled with stolen kisses, horseback rides at dawn, and a chosen family who loved her. She would leave this shell of Greystone behind.

  The choice seemed obvious. Her whole life she had longed for the ability to choose her path, yet now she was terrified. How does one choose between honoring your family and following your heart?

  When she raised her eyes, they immediately found William, walking with Marian. He was hunched over, leaning down so that he could hear her better, a casual and friendly smile on his striking face, his white teeth flashing as they shared a laugh.

  Juliet felt every inch of her wanton body come to life. From her fingers to her toes, she ached for him. Her heart, her body, her life, it was his. There couldn’t be another way. Now she just had to find a way to make it official.

  They came to a stop in front of Marshall and Juliet’s mother, Marian dropping dutifully to a perfect curtsy, and William offering a polite bow. While his eyes stayed on the floor, Juliet tried to catch William’s attention but succeeded only catching Marian’s. She quickly came to her friend’s side.

  “What did you do to William? The man is seething,” Marian whispered, moving them to stand behind two dining chairs side-by-side.

  “What do you mean?” Juliet said, sniffing hard and looking away from her friend.

  “William came to me, looking for all the world like a beaten puppy before dinner. I know for a fact that he was coming from your rooms,” Marian hissed at her, “Coincidence? I think not.”

  Juliet’s chest ached; she swallowed once, twice, trying to get a grip on her emotions as they galloped away with her.

  “I was angry with my mother,” Juliet began when Marian cut her off.

  “I’m sure you were, but don’t forget that we are only here because of him. And he is only here for one thing. That would be you.” Marian finished with a flourish of her long-sleeved cream-colored dress. The Greystone staff arrived and helped them both into their chairs.

  Juliet clamped her eyes shut, taking a deep breath to soothe the desire to again run to William and apologize. To try to explain the storm of emotions that had battled in her mind.

  “I’m sorry,” Juliet murmured as the rest of the group slowly entered the candle-lit dining room and began to be seated. “Please forgive me.”

  Marian patted her arm quickly, “It’s not me that you owe an apology to,” but she smiled kindly, “But thank you regardless. I know you didn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

  “I did not,” Juliet looked around, quickly taking in the two other guests that had accompanied Lord Faber, arriving silently midday today. So far, she had only seen them wandering around the manor after Lord Faber like lost ducklings or hiding out in their rooms.

  She suspected one was a type of security for Faber, big as a mountain, with a face sprinkled with scars and a crooked nose; he didn’t look like the type anyone wanted to cross. Faber had simply introduced him as Demetri.

  His black eyes reminded her of the cool, dead eyes of the fish in the pond out behind the manor. She shivered as his eyes passed over Marian. Beside her, she could feel Marian stiffen as well. Neither of them relaxed until he found a seat away from both of them.

  The second man had spent most of the afternoon napping, but it had done very little for his energy level. Even now, as he sat alongside Faber, he seemed only moments from dozing off.

  His starched collar reminded Juliet of a man of the cloth, but he didn’t wear a pastor’s habit, nor did he turn down the very large glass of wine passed his way, so she discarded that idea quickly. Perhaps he was just a conservative-minded associate of Lord Faber.

  Juliet could picture him enjoying every part of the paperwork aspect that it must take to run a banking institution like Faber’s. As the first courses went by quickly, Juliet was able to pick up on the sleepy man’s name, a Mr. Redding, who did indeed work for Faber.

  William was seated diagonally from her, and while his somber grey eyes found hers throughout the dinner, she was already thinking through the conversation she wanted to have with him. She wanted to start with an apology.

  Then move to a thank you. And finally, Juliet wanted to wrap her arms around William’s n
eck, press her body against his, and show him exactly how glad she was that he was here at Greystone. Juliet smiled to herself. She knew exactly how to welcome him to her home.

  “Juliet? Did you not hear me?” a hoarse voice stole her away from her seductive thoughts. Faber had been talking to her, and his eyes bulged in their sockets as he scolded her lightly. Marian snorted into her napkin, pretending it had been a cough as Juliet painted on a thoughtful smile.

  “I’m sorry, Lord Faber, I was thinking about how delicious this dinner was,” Juliet lied clumsily, but Faber seemed grateful for any kind of response and quickly grinned boyishly back at her.

  “I’m glad to hear it, my dove since this is an important dinner. One that you will remember for the rest of your life.” Every head turned to look at the plump man who conspicuously stood at his chair, his breath uneven and wheezing.

  He raised his glass of wine, his third by her count, and waved at the others to join him. Begrudgingly the table joined in his toast.

  “To Juliet, my beautiful bride, who has continued to enthrall me during our short courtship,” Faber took a rasping breath, a manic grin stretching his face, “Happy wedding day, my darling girl.”

  Juliet froze, her fork clattering to her plate as her numb fingers lost their grip. Beside her, Marian went still as well. Juliet looked for her mother, hoping to see a shred of understanding, only to find Elizabeth keenly watching her husband as he rose slowly beside her.

  “Marshall?” she began, her voice low and discreet, the voice she used when she didn’t want people to know she was unhappy. “What’s going on?”

  The silence twisted around them like a vice on Juliet’s heart. Fear forced her mind to race as somehow everyone’s faces seemed to turn to hers, awaiting her reaction.

  Juliet turned back to Lord Faber, watching as the man drank heavily from his wine glass, smiling expectantly.

  “Well, Juliet, what say you?” Faber said, guffawing at this sleepy-eyed friend beside him who seemed to rouse himself enough to return the clink of glasses.

  “You must be kidding?” William’s dark voice broke across the room like a thunderclap. He stayed seated, his wine untouched as he glared across the table at Faber.

  “Oh, not at all, Willy boy, I’m dead serious.” If William bristled at the absurd nickname, he gave no outward reaction. Yet Juliet knew to watch his eyes as they slowly grew darker by the moment.

  Demetri, Faber’s guard, strolled over to stand near his master, fists crossed over a powerful chest as if sensing the tension. Juliet’s eyes flitted over him before coming back to rest on Faber. She was shocked to the core.

  “Faber, you can’t imagine me ready to marry you, tonight, at Greystone?” Juliet opened her mouth to continue when Faber let out a growling response.

  “Yes, Juliet, I do.”

  Juliet felt her hackles rise at the undertone in his voice. The man meant every word, and they were in very real trouble. “I don’t know you; I don’t love you.”

  “Love comes with time, and we will have plenty of that once we are wed.” Faber leered at her over his glass. Even Marshall cringed, and William rose to his feet, an angry shadow at her side.

  “Please, I’m begging you. This isn’t right.” Juliet felt the panic rise in her throat, pressing against her tongue. She had directed her words to Faber but kept her eyes trained on the man who planned on giving her away, Marshall.

  For once, Marshall looked ashamed, almost apologetic, his throat working hard before finally saying, “Juliet. Lord Faber was able to procure a special license before coming here today. And since the season is over, there is no reason to delay your wedding for another six months on account of being fashionable.”

  Juliet felt like ice had been poured over her body. This was truly happening.

  “A license,” she said. Distantly, as if from a great distance, Juliet saw her mother rise, her face clouded with genuine surprise.

  “Yes. For our wedding, my lady.” Faber said, his voice smug. The words crawled over her body like unwanted insects, leaving trails of fear across every part of her.

  Shaking, Juliet pushed back her chair, maintaining eye contact with Marshall as she did. Gripping the back of her chair for stability, she held back the tears that threatened to spill. “You can’t let this happen,” Juliet whispered, but in the utter silence of the room, everyone could hear exactly what she said.

  Marshall sniffed and looked down, brushing invisible lint from his pants as he said casually, “Like I said, Juliet, this is done. It is time for you to do your duty. Not just for yourself, but Greystone.”

  Her throat closed, and her vision swam as she considered fleeing. She snapped back to reality when she realized that William was confronting Faber, demanding to see the license, his face glowering as he shouted at Marshall.

  “You can’t be serious? Be reasonable, man. What kind of man does that to his family?” Juliet shut her eyes, the tears streaming out of them as she backed away from the table, feeling Marian’s slender hands gripping her body, steadying her, grounding her, amongst the chaos.

  When Juliet looked down, her tiny friend looked as fierce as a lion, gnashing her teeth at Marshall’s approach, who continued to drone on about the impossibility of Juliet finding anybody else that would be a better match.

  William had lost control now, his words loud and angry as he stood in front of Marshall. “How can you say that? After the letters I sent. The meetings you never showed to. I gave you every inclination that I wanted to be with Juliet. I won’t let this happen.”

  Juliet closed her eyes as Marian wrapped her arms around her as the room seemed to erupt in anger, voices were shouting, the staff was running here and there, unsure what to do with the guests.

  “Everyone, shut up!” Suddenly bellowed a deep, strange voice from the doorway. Juliet turned and audibly gasped. A positively enormous, red-haired man filled the entire doorway, his finely cut suit doing nothing but making him seem even more intimidating as it clung to the muscular planes of his body. His face was flushed as he stared in at the dinner party in disarray, his great chest heaving as if he had just run a long way.

  Not a soul moved or breathed for several moments, staring at the newcomer with wide, confused eyes. Juliet slowly looked at Marshall, but he looked just as confused as the rest of the group. However, when she looked at William, she saw that his face was painted with relief.

  “You lot have gone positively mad,” the newcomer shouted, his powerful voice cutting through the room like a hot knife through butter. Marian released her to stare at the mountainous human but maintained her place between Juliet and Faber.

  Faber’s double chins were quivering with distaste as he looked down his nose at the man, or as much as he could when he was so significantly shorter than him. He also elbowed Marshall in the gut hard enough to make the man flinch.

  “This is a private event,” Marshall said, in response to the elbow, his hand protectively laying over his ribcage. “Who are you?” Like a sullen shadow, Demetri rose and went to lurk over Faber’s shoulder.

  “Private party, eh? Well, it’s a good thing I was invited then. I love weddings,” the man drawled, sauntering towards the table and the group of diners.

  Marshall looked confused, his nose wrinkling in dislike at the casual tone. “I highly doubt that. I am the Earl of Greystone; I didn’t invite you here.”

  William moved towards the newcomer, his arm extended in friendship and greeting, which the mountain of a man shook enthusiastically. “I didn’t know you highbrow threw such entertaining dinners. I would’ve been here earlier if I had known.”

  Marian snorted in front of her, a sound of laughter or horror, Juliet wasn’t sure, but the redhead's deep blue eyes glanced her way with a slight smile curling his luxurious lips.

  “And risk missing your entrance. Not likely,” William’s words with light, but his tone was deadly. The redhead’s eyebrows went skyward, and he quickly smoothed his red curls back from his
face, as if to dress up the situation. Had her future not been hanging in the balance, Juliet might have been tempted to laugh. The man had a dramatic flair for sure.

  “This is my associate, Mr. Montgomery Bohart. He has been a valuable asset to me while we looked into some personal matters regarding the Earl.’ William swept his hand from the bowing redhead to the rest of the room.

  “This, Bohart, is an uncomfortable mix of Juliet’s family, friends, and people who are marrying her without her consent,” William said to Bohart, angry sarcasm lacing his voice. Juliet looked at him, wondering why on earth he could be so confident. Who was the man?

  Faber hissed and Demetri, moved around his master with careful, predatory steps, eyes on William and Bohart.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Faber snarled. Marshall was shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, clearly uncomfortable. Elizabeth had approached them too, standing beside her husband, looking onto the debate, her beautiful face vacant of all emotion.