She never knew what Edmund had thought of her. He had never said. She feared neither of them had glanced beyond the surface, like settling for icing on a cake. After his father’s death and Daniel’s departure, she believed Edmund had needed her. She was wrong. He only had need of a wife to adorn his arm and bear him heirs, while she wanted someone to relieve her aching loneliness. To make her feel all those things she yearned to feel. But he was not a man she could love, and she had been a fool to think otherwise.
Now she was paying the price for her mistake. Would be paying for it forever.
One did not break a betrothal contract with a duke without suffering repercussions that would reverberate for years. She had a fortnight before the storm broke.
She lifted her head and pressed her hand to her forehead.
“Julia.”
She whirled, stunned to see Daniel standing inside the library. So lost in her thoughts, she had not heard the door open and close behind him.
His expression was solemn, his eyes dark, and he had a mean swelling on his cheek. She wondered if it was compliments of her father or Edmund. The bruising only added to his rakish appeal, for he still looked unbearably handsome. Her traitorous heart leapt, but then it crashed down. She had made a grave mistake in accepting Edmund’s suit all those years ago, but she had youthful folly to blame for her actions then. She had no such excuse for her reckless behavior with Daniel.
And all that it would cost her family.
“You need to leave. You have done quite enough.” She stepped back from the bookcase and curled her arms around her waist, cursing her shaking voice.
“Julia, please listen to me,” he implored. “I know about Edmund and your severed betrothal. I have spoken to your father—”
“Please,” she cut him off, not wanting to hear more. “There is nothing you can say or do that can alter my situation.” She had to pause as her voice hitched. She lifted her chin, blinking furiously. “It is not possible to avoid the scandal that is going to engulf my family. After all they have been through—”
“Julia, I have come to make it right. I have asked—”
“You cannot make it right,” she cried. “There is nothing we can do to make it right. We cannot turn back time and erase our mistake. My mistake. It is impossible.”
“We can marry,” Daniel insisted. “You are not ruined if you marry. Marry me, Julia.” He held his hand out toward her, his eyes entreating.
Stunned, Julia froze. His words touched something within her, lit a flickering hope that quickly spluttered and died. “No, I cannot.” Her words were soft, and she shook her head, tears streaking her cheeks. “It is too late. I will not . . . I will not accept another proposal for the wrong reasons. I did that once, and I will be paying for that mistake forever. Please. You must go.”
She hurried to the door and started to open it, needing to escape before she broke down completely. She didn’t get far.
Daniel was behind her, slamming his palm against the door above her head, preventing her from opening it.
“It is the right reason, Julia. It is the right thing to do.” He spoke to her bent head, for she refused to turn around.
She pressed her forehead against the door, aware of the heat of his large frame, crowding her, his breath warm on the nape of her neck. “I cannot,” she whispered. “Your home is in America and mine is here. I cannot leave my family, not after the scandal I have brought them. I will not do it. Do not ask me to.”
He dropped his hand and sighed. “Look, you do not have to accept my proposal now. But please, at least give me a chance to convince you otherwise.” His voice was low and urgent. “I have wronged you, and I offer my most sincere apologies that my transgression has put your family in this difficult situation. I can only beg of you to let me make amends. To make it right.”
She closed her eyes, her heart bleeding, her emotions warring within her. She wanted to say yes, and let him enfold her in his arms. To sail to America and never look back. Let the wagging tongues flap away over her brazen conduct. She knew from past experience that when word of her severed engagement spread, the rising speculation would be cruel. As it had been over the last five years, the questions would be innocent at first, then ever more demeaning.
What happened? Is it true that she was discovered in a compromising situation? With His Grace’s twin brother? Oh dear. Dumped by a duke. And sailed off to America? With the brother?
Her disgrace would be an incriminating shadow trailing her family. It would scare away any of Emily’s potential suitors.
Julia had just gotten her family back on their feet. She could not bear knowing that her behavior would bring them low again.
More importantly, she refused to accept a man for the wrong reasons again.
It was a proposal made out of pity, and her heart rebelled at the thought. Last night had given her wisdom beyond her years. She now knew what she needed in a marriage proposal, or from any man who wanted to share his life with her.
She wanted what her parents had had. What Emily had found with Jason. She wanted to be loved. The man who asked for her hand needed to do so not because he thought her beautiful, or deserved an heir, or he needed to save her from ruin. He needed to do so because he loved her. He loved her with such desperation that the loss of her would drop him to his knees.
She would settle for no less.
“It will not work, Daniel,” she whispered above the pounding in her head and the anguished cry of her heart. She would go to London. To escape. To think. To unravel emotions tangled up like a knotted ball of yarn. “It is over. I am leaving for London, and you need to return to America.”
“It is not over. We are not through,” he insisted and spun her around. “We have something together. We have always had something, and you cannot deny it.”
“It was two kisses,” she cried. “Stop making it into something more.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “I am not making it into anything more than what it is. Perhaps you need a reminder.”
Before she could protest, his head lowered and he captured her mouth in a scalding kiss. He kissed her as she had forgotten he could kiss. Powerfully. Expertly. She gasped, and when her mouth opened, he deepened the kiss, his tongue parrying with hers. The heady combination of Daniel and brandy had her knees weakening. Her hands crept up to curl around his shoulders, holding on as her world tilted and still he kissed her. Desire coursed through her and she groaned. His arm slid around her waist, bracing her weight against his.
He lifted his head, and his eyes, heavy-lidded and smoldering, stared into hers.
Dazed, she gazed up at him.
“It is something more. Do not make it into less than it is.” His words were soft and entreating. “You cannot escape it in London.” He held her with one arm and brushed a tendril of hair from her forehead. “Because I will come after you, Julia. We are not finished. This is not finished. But I will give you some time.”
He released her as she recovered her senses and found her footing. She stepped away and straightened her gown, her pulse skittering.
“Just not too much of it,” he warned as he opened the door and closed it softly behind him.
Julia pressed an unsteady hand to her throbbing lips. She had more to think about in London then she originally surmised. How like Daniel to complicate matters. To muddy the water.
She could not marry a man like that. Who did not heed her wishes. Who kissed her without leave or permission. Who was a bit wild and . . . dangerous.
Then again, if he loved her, she did not know how she could not. After all, she deserved no less.
But he was leaving for America.
And she belonged here.
Chapter Fourteen
DANIEL dismounted on the lane leading to Tanner Stables. After leaving Taunton Court, he had spent the morning riding over the undulating hills of Bedfordshire. As a boy, this unfettered freedom had always been his release from all that pressed upon him. As he had
galloped across the lush green landscape, the whip of the wind and exhilaration of the ride had provided a healing solace to his roiling emotions. It also served to remind him that Julia was wrong.
Yes, he had built up a life in America, but his home was here. This land spoke to him. And it always would. After listening to the tenants, wandering over well-worn grounds and revisiting the charred remains of Lakeview Manor, he could never escape it. It was in his soul.
America had given him time to heal after the fire, but he was better now. He did not know if or when he would leave, for he had a business in Boston. He only knew that no one could force him to flee again, not the person who had scared him away all those years ago, not Edmund with his threats or Julia with her pleas.
Julia.
With an irritable kick, he sent a stone skittering across the road. Taunton had said Julia was all about family and deserved one of her own. His family had never been close; he had no plans to marry and knew nothing about being a father. But by God, he would learn for Julia—even if it terrified him. It was the right thing to do. He just needed to convince her of that. Taunton knew his daughter well, for her stubbornness was a formidable barrier.
He understood she was struggling with the realization that she had made a mistake in accepting Edmund’s hand, but she could not possibly compare him to Edmund and fear making another one? After all they had done together, he refused to believe she could still be confusing them. So why was his proposal a mistake? He did not see anything wrong with it. He thought it quite timely. Would it not save her from ruination? What did she want? Bended knee and flowers?
He thought he understood Julia. Feared he did not, which did not bode well for a future together. Her decision to flee to London rather than staying to resolve matters particularly irked him. How was a man to convince a woman to marry him if she was in a different city? Well, as he said, he would give her time, but not too much of it.
He led Chase into the Tanner Stables, greeting Robbie, who was storing up tack.
“Shouldn’t those bridles go in your office?”
“Do not start nattering on about that again,” Robbie warned. “You were up and out a mite early. A maid said the footman delivered you a note while you were breaking the fast, and you were off like a wild horse. Was there a fire you needed to put out?”
“There was,” he said. Seeing as they were alone, he continued. “Bedford severed his betrothal with Julia. Cited breach of contract. Apparently, she was seen in a compromising situation with—”
“What? That’s bollocks,” Robbie thundered. “What kind of grotty, underhanded good-for-nothing son of a whore would ruin Lady Julia? Only a blackguard of the worst sort. A real son of a bitch . . . Ah, hell, you didn’t, did you?”
Daniel cursed Robbie as heat burned his neck like a brand of guilt. “Keep your voice down,” he snapped. “I do not need the whole village to hear. The announcement is not yet public.” Robbie unhitched Chase’s saddle, while Daniel removed his bridle.
“I intend to make it right.” He leaned forward and practically hissed the words. “I may be a good-for-nothing blackguard, but I am not Edmund. For God’s sake, Robbie, it would have been like giving a bird to a feral cat. It was not how I intended to severe their engagement, but I refuse to apologize for the demise of it.”
With a grunt, Robbie hefted off Chase’s saddle and set it down. Planting his hands on his hips, he blew out a breath. “Can’t argue with you there. Is that where you disappeared to this morning? To make things right?” He nodded to Daniel’s cheek. “Is that from Taunton?”
“Edmund,” he muttered.
Robbie’s eyes widened. “You met up with him? Or rather his fist?”
Daniel scowled at his echo of Taunton, his words defensive. “He did not leave unscathed. Turns out, unlike his daughter, Taunton is amiable to my suit. He had reservations about Edmund. Wise man.”
“You are the only bloke I know who can ruin a man’s daughter and have him thank you for saving her. You titled gents get all the good fortune.” Robbie shook his head.
Taunton’s support was an odd turn of events. Daniel was not used to being championed over Edmund. In the past, it had been his word against Edmund’s. Edmund was the heir apparent. Once Daniel had realized no one was listening to his side, he had stopped talking.
“So Lady Julia hasn’t accepted your offer?”
“She will,” Daniel grumbled. “I am working on it.”
He filled Robbie in on Edmund waiting a fortnight before making the news of the severed engagement public. “What I would like to know is why is Edmund borrowing money from Taunton? How much are the loans Taunton paid out to him? Where the devil is he pouring the profit that he is leeching from his estate?”
Robbie leaned down and hefted the saddle into his arms, carrying it over to deposit it with the tack needing cleaning. “I am not privy to the man’s finances.” He tossed a brush to Daniel. “My stable hands are busy elsewhere, make yourself useful. Rub your own horse down.”
Robbie collected a pitchfork and moved to a storage bin, proceeding to dig out straw and toss it into a wheelbarrow. “Bedford resides in London during the Season. He could have accumulated gambling debts or a mistress. I would not be in the know about that, but keeping a sweet bit of fluff would cost a good amount in lodging and trinkets.”
A mistress would not put Edmund into debt, but it might explain Edmund’s willingness to prolong his engagement, for he doubted Julia would tolerate sharing her husband. After she finished with the unfortunate woman, what was left of her would be sent packing. Thankfully, he found one woman trouble enough. The idea of juggling two had him loosening his cravat.
He sighed. His brother’s strained finances, like his estate, were none of his business. However, as Taunton had ceded Julia’s dowry to Edmund and planned to forgive other debts as well, Daniel had a vested interest and a burning curiosity to know what sponge was sucking up the Bedford fortune.
“While I can’t account for Edmund’s debt, I can assist you in another area. I located Weasel.” Robbie straightened and his grim expression gave Daniel pause.
“Where is he?”
“He is in London. But there’s something you should know. Bedford caught Weasel poaching on his land, laid a trap for him no doubt.” Robbie’s brown eyes darkened.
Daniel stilled, his mouth bone dry. Edmund had liked to set his traps, but he liked his punishments more.
“Bedford’s the magistrate now, and he delivers a harsh justice. I didn’t know how harsh, but I have learned. Apparently, he sanctioned slicing off two fingers on the poor sod’s right hand in punishment for his poaching.” Robbie spat in the newly laid straw as Daniel sucked in his breath. “Then Weasel disappeared. Rumors say he is sequestered in town and has been working at a gambling hell for the past two years.”
Daniel strode to the open stable door, letting the fresh air cool his rising fury. Robbie’s words stirred up buried memories. Idly he rubbed his thumb over a jagged line on his index finger. Edmund had cut it, curious to test the blade of his new knife. They had been at Eton, and after nearly losing his finger, Daniel had made his decision to leave the school.
These scars had served to remind him of who his brother was, but Weasel’s fate reminded him of much more. Daniel had stained Julia’s reputation, but he had not ruined her—that Edmund would have done. His freedom for Julia’s was a sacrifice he would never regret.
Feeling a renewed purpose, he vowed to woo his beautiful, obstinate warrior and pry the necessary acceptance from her. Difficult, but not impossible, remembering their kiss. She felt something for him, and that gave him a flicker of hope. He just needed to fan the flames a bit higher and hotter—and he would.
He faced Robbie. “Well, then, it looks like a trip to London is in order.”
“You are going to look for Weasel? You really think he knows something?”
He shrugged. “It is the only lead I have for now. If nothing comes of it, my partne
r came over with me and is in the city, so I can visit Curtis Shipping while there.” And Julia. “However, before I leave, where can I get a special license to wed?”
Robbie grinned. “Now that we might have more success finding. We can—” Robbie began, but was cut short at the sound of a throat being cleared.
They turned to see Davie, Robbie’s brother, who was half the size of Robbie but with the same dark eyes and shock of unruly hair. “You need to come inside,” he said, addressing Daniel. “Something has come up.” He did not wait for either of them to respond, but turned on his heels and headed back out.
Daniel exchanged a curious look with Robbie before following him outside.
They trailed Davie into the house, upstairs, down a long hallway, and toward the guest quarters and Daniel’s room, where his bedroom door stood ajar. Davie gestured Daniel inside with a nod of his head.
Frowning, Daniel quickened his step, but stopped short at the sight greeting him. A young housemaid stood inside, wringing her hands before her. Daniel noted her anxious expression, but was too stunned at the disarray in his room to give her much heed.
It was as if a gust of wind had whipped through and tossed everything asunder. His books and papers were dispersed, some on the floor, some crumpled up. Drawers jutted out with items spilling from them, his wardrobe door gaped open, and clothing was strewn on the ground. The only broken item was the porcelain bowl that had sat on the commode. It looked as if it had been hurled in anger, for it was shattered into pieces before the hearth.
What in the world . . . ?
“In a bit of temper before you left, were you?” Davie said.
Incredulous, Daniel’s eyes shot to him. “You believe I did this?”
“Well, if you didn’t, who did? Are any of the other rooms ransacked like this?” Robbie asked the maid.
“No, sir. Thot’s wot I was tellin’ Master Davie here,” she said. “I had done a proper cleanin’ when my lord first left early this mornin’. I didn’t plan to do another when ye returned, but I noticed the door was ajar after ye left again and I came to close it, I did, and thot’s when—”
The Heart of a Duke Page 15