“Oh, darling, you’re going to break his heart.”
“No, no, I won’t. He doesn’t love me.”
Audrey snorted. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“It’s true,” Julianna protested. “He has not once said so to me. And if he felt that way why wouldn’t he tell me?”
“That’s something you need to ask yourself.”
“Mama!” came Liza’s scared voice from the hall. “Mama, nightmare!”
Pushing her concerns to the back of her mind, Julianna jumped up and went to care for her daughter.
It had been twelve hours since Nash had last seen Julianna. He stopped pacing his study and glanced out the window through the rain to the path he had followed her down last night. Twice he had almost raced to help her when he had thought she was going to lose her balance in her desperate flight, but she’d stayed upright and his instincts had told him that she was running from him. Whether she was running from what they had done, her feelings for him, or both of those things, he didn’t know.
He hoped it was her feelings for him because that meant she realized she cared for him and caring could lead to love. He certainly didn’t want her to be regretful or ashamed of the passion they had shared, especially since they were going to be married.
He loved her. As cracked as it was, he loved Julianna though he’d only known her for such a short time. She’d captured his admiration the day he had met her, and not long after, she’d earned his trust, and without him realizing it, she had seized his heart and now held it in the palm of her hand. He was hers, body and soul, if only she wanted him in return.
He’d been a fool to ever think he could settle for only having her desire. Maybe he was still being a fool believing he could win her, but he couldn’t help it. The rain battered the house as he stared out the window. How long should he give her to come to him? How long could he stand not to go to her? His instincts told him to allow her as much time as he possibly could.
Sitting down at his desk, he picked up some contracts he needed to read, but between his lack of sleep and the dull ache that had been present in his head since yesterday, concentrating was hard. And it was bloody hot in his office today, which was odd because the rain and lack of sun should have cooled the house. Yet, his brow was damp, he felt clammy all over and breathing was difficult. A cough, sounding much like the one Maggie had just gotten over, rumbled from him.
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, and as he did, a scratch came at the door followed by Reed’s voice.
“You have visitors, Mr. Wolverton.”
Nash jumped up, his heart racing. It had to be Julianna and little Liza. “Send them in,” he called, and started once again to pace the room. Was Julianna bringing Liza with her a sign that she was afraid to face him alone? Before he could answer his own question, the door opened and Barrows entered followed by Trevelle. Nash stared at the two men, Julianna’s brother-in-law and the lord that had dared to ask Julianna to marry him. Why the devil were they here? Together. So early in the morning. And in such bad weather so far away from Town. An uneasy feeling gripped him.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this social call?”
Barrows narrowed his gaze on Nash. “This is no social call. This is a friendly warning.”
Nash eyed Trevelle for a moment to gauge if he seemed as irritable as Barrows was. The man slicked his wet hair back, frowned slightly, and then quirked his mouth. He appeared more ill at ease than anything. Focusing once again on Barrows, Nash folded his arms across his chest and widened his stance. If the man thought to intimidate him, he clearly was not thinking.
Barrows coughed uneasily as they eyed each other.
Nash leaned toward the man, pleased to see Barrows flinch. He let Julianna’s brother-in-law squirm around a bit before speaking. “In general, I think it’s safe to say a warning cannot really be considered friendly since the very nature of the word warning implies a threat when delivered in the manner you just conveyed it.”
“Fine,” Barrows snapped. “Then let’s call it a threat. I overheard your nanny talking in Town. She said Julianna is working for you as a tutor. You will cease employing my sister-in-law instantly or you will find your club in deep trouble.”
His nanny? The man had to mean Esther. Nash shrugged. “I’m not that concerned about the club. I planned on selling it now that I’m in the shipping business.”
Barrows face turned red, and he took a step toward Nash, but Trevelle stopped the man with a hand to his arm and slid between the two men. “Listen, Wolverton. I like you, so please try not to take what I say as an insult, but it won’t do for Julianna to work for you as your daughter’s tutor. As much as I hate to say it, there are people in the ton that would ostracize her for working, and though she has apparently decided she doesn’t care, those same people will also shun her daughter for what they see as Julianna’s social downfall. Her daughter having to suffer for Julianna’s actions would break her heart. She clearly hasn’t thought everything through because I know she would never endanger Liza’s chances at a good life.”
“And her activities will reflect on me, my wife, and our unborn child as well,” Barrows added.
“Cease talking, Barrows,” Trevelle snapped, without even turning to look at the man.
“I agree that Julianna does not need to work for me,” Nash said, enjoying the twin looks of surprise that graced the men’s faces. “But you don’t have to be worried because Julianna is going to be my wife.”
Trevelle’s mouth gaped.
“The devil you say!” Barrows exploded.
Nash clenched his teeth together. So much for hearty congratulations. “I believe I spoke clearly.”
“She cannot marry you.” Barrows pointed a finger at Trevelle. “She is going to marry him.”
“That’s a lie,” Nash said, pleased his voice sounded calm since he wanted to make Barrows bleed at this moment. Perhaps Trevelle, too. He eyed the man. “She turned you down.”
Trevelle nodded. “She did, but then she sent me this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled letter.
Nash didn’t wait for the letter to be handed to him. He snatched it from Trevelle and yanked it open. Only eight words were on the paper, but each one was like a hard blow to his gut. He blinked to make sure he had read correctly. His vision was unclear for some reason. The words appeared doubled and swam in and out of focus. He had to strain to make them line up, but damn it, when they did they still said the same thing.
I’ve reconsidered your proposal. Please come to me at once.
Yours,
Julianna
The word yours pounded through his skull much the way the rain pounded against the roof. He curled his hand into a fist, crumpling the letter as he did so. “When did you receive this?” His voice sounded distant to him. Almost muffled. Maybe it was the anger.
“Yesterday,” Trevelle replied. “I contacted Barrows, and we came immediately.”
Nash tried to think, but his thoughts collided against each other as if his head was full of cotton and there was not enough room for order of any kind.
Julianna would have had to have sent it soon after she’d arrived here. That would mean she had been knowingly lying to him and deceiving him. It would mean she had never intended to marry him and that she had used him. He refused to believe her capable of such a thing. There had to be some sort of explanation. Maybe she had written the letter, but then realized how drawn she was to him and had not thought to write Trevelle again and tell him not to come. That had to be it.
Street urchin. The old voice that used to haunt him as a child and very young man whispered in his head. The room seemed to tilt slightly as the voice whispered again. By blow.
The room sloped again, and Nash stayed on his feet by sheer luck. By God, he was going to black out. He’d gone down once in a fight. Only once. But he’d had that same floating feeling he had now, and he’d seen the same damned stars dancing in
front of him that were there at this moment. His vision started to tunnel, becoming dark at the edges.
“Get out,” he snapped. He’d be damned if he was going to go down in front of Barrows and Trevelle.
“Wolverton, I’m sorry,” Trevelle said. “Did she tell you she would marry you?”
Damnation. His gut clenched. She never had uttered her agreement to marry him. He couldn’t get into this now. Later. Tonight, when he felt better, he’d go to Julianna and she would explain, and everything would be all right.
He shook his head. “Go,” he growled.
As the door clicked behind them, the room jerked violently, and as Nash fell to his knees and then his chest, darkness settled in.
“I did not write to you,” Julianna snapped while glaring at Lord Cameron. She didn’t even feel the slightest remorse about being so churlish. She had already told him the very same thing moments ago when he and David had met her at the door as she was on the way out. She’d spent all morning gathering enough courage to go see Nash and tell him she could not marry him, and the last thing she wanted was to be forestalled by such ridiculousness.
How she wished she had not sent Audrey home this morning. Her friend would have known the right words to propel these two men straight back to Town. But Julianna had wanted to end things with Nash without an audience.
Lord Cameron’s brows came together in a deep frown before he turned a murderous look on David. “Barrows, you better hope you had nothing―”
“My lady,” the butler called as he raced into the room. “I’m sorry to intrude but Mr. Wolverton’s cook is at the door, and she says he’s very ill. She wants to know if you can―”
“Yes,” Julianna cried, shoving past the butler. She got three steps out of the library when a hand clamped around her arm and halted her progress.
“Let his servants care for him, my dear,” David said.
She yanked her arm from David’s hold, desperate to go to Nash. “If they thought they could manage, they wouldn’t have called me.”
“Then I’ll come with you.”
“No!” Nash certainly wouldn’t want David, who had treated him rather poorly when they met, to see him in a weakened state. “Don’t be silly. You stay here, rest and freshen up from your travels. I’ll be back soon.”
David’s mouth parted, as if were going to protest, but he finally clinched his jaw shut with a huff. “We have much to discuss when you return. Like this nonsense about your taking a position.”
“All right, David.” She would have agreed to a pact with the devil at this moment just to get to Nash faster.
As she rushed out the door, she thought she heard Lord Cameron’s voice raised in anger, but she wasn’t going to spare even a second to turn back around and find out why. She had a suspicion that David was somehow behind the letter to Lord Cameron.
She met the cook at the front door, and together they raced to Nash’s house. By the time she reached his bedroom, she was panting for breath. He lay atop his bed, eyes closed and a sheen of sweat covering his brow. His butler hovered in the corner but came forward as she entered.
“I found him passed out in his study, and the footman and I and carried him up here. I’m sorry to have disturbed you, my lady, but with Esther gone I didn’t know what to do.”
Julianna laid a hand on his forehead and gasped at the heat that met her touch. Bending down, she gently shook his shoulder, but he did not stir. She listened to his breathing a moment, which sounded wheezy to her, much like Maggie’s and Liza’s had sounded when they had been sick.
Relief flooded through her. They’d gotten better, and so would he. Wouldn’t he? She studied his face for a moment, noting the rapid movement of his eyes under his lids.
“Nash, please wake up,” she whispered in his ear. Neither of the children had passed out with the sickness. The realization did not comfort her.
He flinched and coughed, a loud harsh sound, but his eyes did not open. A stark memory of Henry’s eyes rapidly moving under lids that never opened again filled her head. She had the overwhelming urge to flee the room and the possibility that Nash might die. Instead, she stood and faced Mr. Reed. “Send the footman to fetch the physician immediately.”
The butler nodded and left the room to do her bidding. She turned back to Nash, angry that she had no real knowledge of how to care for a sick person. All she knew to do was what the physician had told her to do for Henry, and that hadn’t worked. A sob lodged in her throat and made it ache. She glanced down at Nash’s large frame. He appeared indestructible because of his sheer size, but that was an illusion. The strongest man was no match for death. She bit hard on her lip and forced the thoughts away. They were doing no good.
Rolling up her sleeves, she pulled a chair beside the bed and then retrieved the washbasin and set it down on the stand by Nash’s bed. As she loosened his shirt and her fingertips grazed the muscles of his chest, a sob escaped her. She clenched her teeth together on any further hysterics. She could do this. She could sit here and sponge a man who might die and take another piece of her heart with him.
When she submerged her hands in the cool water they felt instantly numb, and it occurred to her she needed to numb herself. She would detach herself. She had to in order to survive. Conjuring up an image of Liza, she spent what seemed like hours sponging Nash and mentally thinking of all the things she and Liza would do when they returned to Town. Just as she was about to dip the cloth again, the door creaked open behind her and a man carrying a physician’s bag strode into the room.
He tipped his hat to her. “Lady Barrows, I beg your pardon, but the butler told me who you were and of your kindness in coming over to help him. I’m Dr. Lassiter. If you’d allow me to have a look?”
“Certainly.” She stood and scooted out of the way, and as she did, Nash began to cough again, but this time it was violent and shook his whole body. Julianna looked to the physician, whose brows had come together in a deep frown.
He rushed past her as Nash’s body began to flail on the bed. Julianna screamed as the physician kneeled on the side of the bed to hold Nash down as his body convulsed.
“Get me something hard to put between his teeth.”
The physician’s words propelled Julianna out of her horrified stupor and into action. She raced around the room, picking up and discarding items, until her fingers closed around a comb lying on the dresser. She rushed to the physician and thrust it at him.
“What can I do?” she cried out as the man struggled to get the comb between Nash’s teeth.
“Hold his arms down for me.”
Julianna flung herself across Nash’s body and pressed his arms down as well as she could, but even though he was sick, the strength of his arms shocked her. Mere seconds after it started, the convulsing stopped, and Nash lay still as death.
Julianna’s heart sunk, and the room swayed. This will not kill me. I do not love him as I loved Henry. I will not fall to pieces and become melancholy once again. For Liza’s sake, I will not. She squeezed her eyes shut and repeated the mantras, but warm tears still seeped out of the corners of her eyes. She started when fingers touched her arm, and she opened her eyes to find the physician, his blond hair slung across his forehead, staring at her.
“Lady Barrows, I think you should sit down.”
She nodded and allowed him to help her to the high-back wooden chair she had previously been sitting in. Though she was loathe to do it, she glanced at Nash and froze. His chest rose and fell with breath, and if she listened, his faint, constant wheezing filled the room.
“He’s not dead?” Her voice sounded leagues away and very wary to her ears.
The doctor was leaning over Nash and peering into his mouth.
“No. But I won’t lie to you, he might yet die. He’s got Boulogne sore throat.”
“Boulogne?”
“Yes. Has anyone else around him had a cough that sounded like a dog bark or perhaps a fever?”
She swallowed the
fear rising in her throat. “His daughter and mine, but it was nothing like this. They didn’t convulse, and their fevers were mild.”
The physician nodded. “He has a severe case. He has sores on the back of his throat, his pulse is very weak, and his neck is swollen, making breathing hard.”
It felt as if she couldn’t breathe, but she forced a breath anyway. “What can we do?”
The physician heaved a sigh. “Not much, I’m afraid, other than sponging him, holding him down, and putting something between his teeth when he is convulsing. We can also try to get him to drink a bit and take a little broth.” Dr. Lassiter jerked his hands through his hair. “And wait. We wait by his side and hope he does not strangle from lack of air.”
Julianna shut her eyes at a wave of nausea. Wait. They had said about Henry to wait by his side and pray. She had prayed until she was too hoarse to talk, and he had died anyway. Silently, she began to talk to God of Nash’s goodness, his daughter, and his need to be spared. The physician squeezed her shoulder, and beside her, the air swished as he stood. Footsteps tapped across the floor, followed by the creak of the door being opened and the click of it being shut.
She prayed the whole day and into the night. The physician came and went, and finally, as darkness overcame the bedchamber, the butler begged her to go home. She relented with his promise to sit by Nash all night.
Thankfully, her house was dark and quiet when her butler opened the door for her. She crept up the stairs to the nursery to check on Liza and then to her own bedchamber where she shrugged out of her clothes and into her nightrail. As she went to her bed to pull the covers back she noticed a folded letter on her pillow with her name scrawled on it. She opened the letter, read it and frowning, re-read it.
I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I’ve gone back to Town, but I bid you to speak to your brother-in-law in the morning and demand answers. If you should find yourself in need of a convenient husband, I’m available. However, if you should find yourself in need of a position, I have a friend who needs a companion to help her re-enter society. She would prefer to keep the fact that she’s employing someone secret. If you decide you are interested, come see me in Town.
After Forever, A Whisper of Scandal Novel Page 11