by L. R. Olson
But he’d been wrong.
James had parents. He even had siblings, yet he was the biggest bastard I’d ever met.
Welch’s son had attempted to ruin me for good. He’d failed.
But James…James had succeeded.
Even as he left the room and my shock gave way to burning anger, deep down the guilt swirled. I knew what I was doing when I had arrived. In a way, I had used him, even expecting the man to be grateful. Perhaps…just perhaps I deserved whatever I received.
Trembling, I moved from the bed. I would not cry. My clothing lay scattered upon the floorboards and it took all the energy I could manage to move across the room, gathering the garments. I only realized how sore my body was as I dressed. I felt branded. As if even now he still touched me.
I merely wanted to get as far away from him and his home as possible. Dressed, I moved into the hallway. The place was empty. It felt so still. No maid. No manservant. James had truly deserted me. The bastard.
In a daze, I moved down the stairs, the steps creaking overly loud in the quiet estate.
Outside the man servant was gone, as was the horse.
There had been no offer to escort me home. Even to walk me to the edge of the woods. He’d treated me like I was nothing. A whore. He’d gotten what he wanted and there was no use for me anymore. I’d never felt so wretched, so dirty, in all of my life. Not even with the eyes of the ton upon me those years ago.
I hated him.
Hated him with a passion the likes of which I’d never experienced before. As much as I wanted to be away, I didn’t dare rush home. I could barely move, sore in so many places I didn’t even know existed. If he’d been a gentleman he never would have left. If he’d been a gentleman he would have escorted me home. But then again if he’d been a gentleman he never would have taken me in the first place.
As I left the field and found the trail through the woods I realized the world had changed. Nothing appeared the same. I took no comfort in the trees or flowers. Did not smile as the birds chirped so merrily. Everything seemed dark, watchful, and judgmental. He’d taken that from me. Everything I’d ever loved about Dorset.
When my family’s home came into view it was not relief that I felt. Mere acceptance. My hair hung down around my shoulders, my dress wasn’t quite put together right and there were wrinkles in the material where before there had been none. The servants would know something had happened. I could only pray they wouldn’t tell my family.
I pulled open the kitchen door. A few maids glanced my way, only to take a second look as they noticed my disheveled state. The wide eyes, the gasps, only confirmed what I assumed I looked like…a harlot.
“My dear, there you are,” Ramona said, rushing into the kitchen from the hall. “Your mother has been asking after you for at least an hour.”
I nodded.
Ramona paused, her brows drawing together in confusion. “Jules, has something happened?”
I felt used.
I felt unclean.
I felt judged.
Desperate, I pushed my way through the kitchen, merely wanting a bath. I had to wash away his scent, his touch. I felt like his hands were on me still, as if he had branded me. And damn if my body didn’t heat with the thought. Even still, after all that he had done, I wanted him. And I despised myself for the feelings. Would I ever truly be rid of the man?
“Jules, dear, mind tasting these lemon tarts?” Cook called out. “I do know how much you enjoy them and…”
I moved up the narrow set of servant’s stairs, praying I would not see my mother. “Sarah,” I said to the maid rushing down the hall toward me, her hands full of linens. “A bath please.”
“Yes, my lady. We are preparing Miss Penny’s bath, but when we’re done—”
“Bring it to my room instead.”
Her brows drew together in confusion. “Miss?”
“My room,” I demanded as I reached my door.
She jumped, startled by my outburst. In my twenty-some years I’d never spoken harshly to any servant. But at the moment I didn’t care that tears were filling her large brown eyes. I didn’t care because James had crushed my soul so that I wondered if I’d ever care about anything or anyone again.
“Bring Penny’s water to my room.” I rested my hand on the doorknob. “Do you understand?”
She nodded so vigorously her cap slid down over her eyes. “Yes, miss.”
I shoved open my door and stepped inside. Numbly I started to undress. It was only as I pulled off my bloomers that I noticed the blood. My virgin’s blood smeared across my pale thighs. With trembling hands I pulled a handkerchief from my dresser and dipped it into the washing bowl. Slowly, I dabbed at my sore folds. A place so private only one other person had touched me there…James. It was then that the tears filled my eyes. How could I have been so stupid? I’d thought he wanted marriage, but he’d only wanted me as his mistress. I would have been better off with Welch’s son.
A sudden pounding sounded on the door. I tossed the handkerchief to the vanity and reached for my robe. “Go away.”
“No. Jules, open the door!”
I ignored Penny. There was no doubt I loved my sister. But the last few years had always revolved around her, and I couldn’t deal with the dramatics today. Not this evening. Not after what had happened.
The door opened.
“Jules?” Penny rushed into my room in a flurry of anger. “Why are you demanding the servant’s attention? You know I’m trying to get ready! He’ll be here in less than an hour! An hour, Jules!”
“Shut up, Penny!” I yelled, spinning around to face her.
We’d never fought. In her nineteen years we’d never fought. She fell silent, her eyes going wide with shock and confusion. Guilt and shame swirled together, mixing with my anger into a lethal combination.
“Just get out!” I shoved her toward the door. “Leave me in peace.”
She stumbled back, but didn’t leave.
I couldn’t stand to see her stunned expression. I spun around, my back to her. I felt James even now. I could smell him on me. I only wanted to erase him from my mind forever. To forget how wonderful he had made me feel. To remember only that he was a bastard.
“Jules.” She stared at the handkerchief upon my vanity. “Jules…is that…blood? Did you injure yourself?”
I grabbed the handkerchief and stuffed it into the pocket of my wrap. “Penny, please, leave me alone!”
She didn’t say a word, merely stood there for a moment, attempting to understand. Then finally, when I was about to scream, she rushed from the room. The door slammed shut with her departure. I didn’t care. I didn’t care because I was tired and just wanted to sleep and forget. But I couldn’t because I had to get ready for Penny’s gathering.
I was still standing by the windows when the servants dragged the copper tub into my room and poured in the hot water. Although for the most part they catered to Penny, they knew better than to ignore my demand. Especially when I was so easy to please most of the time. I didn’t thank them as I normally would have when they left.
Finally alone, I dropped my robe and sank into the tub. The hot water stung the sensitive skin between my legs. In the tub, I did what I’d been wanting to do, needed to do. I cried. Warm tears pooled in my eyes, overflowing and trailing down my cheeks, dripping into the tub. I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t move. Barely breathed. Just stared at my painting of my cottage and cried.
The door opened. “What happened?” my mother demanded, sweeping across the room in a swirl of blue silk, and pausing beside the tub. “What’s wrong with you?”
I drew my knees to my chest and dropped my gaze to the water. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Mother was silent for a moment as she studied my face. She might not understand me, but she knew me. “Were you forced?”
“No,” I whispered, not in the least bit surprised that she knew. After all, Ramona had seen James and me together when we’d been
after the cow, and she had most likely mentioned him to my mother. My state of dress had been disheveled when I’d arrived home. And Penny had seen the bloody handkerchief.
“I see.” She moved across the room and snatched up a rose colored dress from a pile of discarded gowns we’d gone through earlier. “Do I know the man?”
“No.”
Her face was granite. The disappointment I expected was not there, only a cold anger. I had never been the child she wanted, but she had still loved and respected me. Now, even that was gone. “And marriage?”
“Impossible,” I whispered.
“Very well. You will tell me when your monthly begins so we know you’re not with child.”
I blanched, my wide gaze going to her. Oh God. I hadn’t even considered the idea until now. How stupid and naïve I’d been!
Mother stood near the bed, smoothing the wrinkles from my gown. “Cry, Jules. Cry for now. But in less than an hour you will be downstairs wearing your gown. You will be smiling, and you will be happy for your sister. You will not cry again about this. Not ever. Do you understand?”
I sank farther into the water, wishing to fade away. “Yes, Mother.”
****
My body had been scrubbed.
My hair repinned.
My gown replaced.
There were no longer traces of what had happened. At least not on the outside. I studied my reflection in the full-length mirror. Somehow, in some way, I looked different. I’d worn the gown before but choosing light rose now seemed too young for my advanced years. Certainly too virginal. Wearing the prim gown made me feel ill, like an actor on stage. My face was pale and my hands were still trembling. I took in a deep breath, attempting to calm my racing heart. Façade. I must put on a façade.
But all I could think about was that I might be with child.
The thought made me ill.
My child would not play with Penny’s. My child would truly be a bastard. He or she would be given away to be raised in a nunnery, or by some childless family with no idea who his or her mother truly was. Perhaps I could try to raise the babe alone. But how?
I hadn’t seen Penny since our confrontation. If I’d been a good sister, I would have apologized. I would have smiled and been happy for her and her little gathering. He hadn’t proposed yet…but it was coming tonight, Penny had assured me the other day. She was afraid of the man, but she was going to marry him anyway. Apparently we were both insane. Fortunately for her, Penny’s insanity was exactly what my mother and the ton expected.
Slowly, I made my way down the staircase. I could hear music playing in the parlor and any other day the gathering would have been something to look forward to. Mostly important people from the shire, I would have laughed and talked to the very friends I’d had since I was born here over twenty years ago.
But not now. I couldn’t go in there. I couldn’t.
“Jules!” Cecilia said, racing toward me with arms outstretched. She wore a pretty pale lavender gown that she’d had for years. But it was her best and she looked fresh, innocent and young. Everything I could no longer claim. Mother had never understood why I’d befriended the poor girl the shopkeepers had taken in as charity years ago. But Cecilia was the only person who didn’t judge me. Who understood my need for more than gossip and fashion.
“Finally!” She’d twisted her light brown hair into a simple knot. “You’re here!”
I forced myself to smile and hugged her back. But she knew me well. All too soon, she pulled away, frowning. “Jules, what is it?”
I shook my head, feeling the sting of tears. “Lia, there is so much to tell you. I—”
“Julianna.” Reverend Thomas called out, sweeping down the hall like a crow in his black garb. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or not. I’d always told Cecilia everything, yet I didn’t know if I could admit what had happened.
Cecilia and I curtsied. “Reverend.”
He didn’t even bother to glance at Cecilia. She wasn’t important enough. So much for all of God’s sheep being equal. “Might I have a word with you alone?”
Cecilia’s eyes went wide. She knew why. There was only one reason why an unattached man and unmarried woman would speak alone. “Of course.”
Without word she moved back into the ball room, leaving me alone. I had to resist the urge to latch onto her and keep her by my side. Could he sense my sin? As he stared down at me, his hands folded so primly in front of his black robes, it felt as if he could see deep into my dark soul. James had branded me.
“Have you thought upon my offer?”
It wasn’t a question, but more of a demand. He didn’t want to marry me, he wanted to own and change me. Mold me into his idea of the perfect wife. How could I subject my child, if there was one, to him? A sudden rush of defiance raced through me. I wouldn’t. “Yes.”
He seemed startled. “Yes, you will?”
“No.” I smiled, feeling relieved for the first time in days. If I was with child, I would find a way to raise the baby alone. “I won’t.”
He flushed. “I don’t believe your parents will—”
“I don’t really care.”
His angry flush turned to shock.
“You see, considering I plan to move to a nunnery once Penny is gone, I don’t think anyone will mind if I don’t marry. Yes, I’ve decided to marry the one being more important than you…God. Surely you can’t argue with that?”
The look on his face was worth everything I’d lied about. “But…but you’re not Catholic.”
I curtsied and walked away. For the first time that day I felt like laughing. I felt…free. What did I have to lose? I slipped into the parlor that had been turned into a ballroom and tried to calm my racing heart. Mother and Father stood near the far corner, welcoming guests like the perfect hosts. Penny was missing, no doubt in the back garden receiving her long-awaited proposal. I snatched a glass of champagne, downed it, returned the glass to the tray and grabbed another. How could everything change so completely in two weeks?
“Jules!” Lady Whilham called out, waving to me. “Wonderful to see you.”
I ignored her and turned away, giving her the cut directly.
She’d been one of many to spread the gossip of my kiss those years ago. I finished my second glass of champagne. What would she say if she knew the truth about what I’d just done? I set my empty glass on a side table. But I realized as I strolled the perimeter of the room that I didn’t need to care anymore. I was ruined. Utterly ruined. Nothing could be worse. And in a way, with my ruination came power. So why didn’t I feel as if I was in control?
The orchestra played. Everyone laughed and danced, merry guests with no troubling problems. I’d been so very stupid. So incredibly naïve. If Father uncovered James’ identity, he would force the man to marry me. Or perhaps once James understood that I came from a titled family with money, he would relent, and wish to marry me himself.
I leaned back against the wall, half-hidden by a potted palm. Oh God, no. I couldn’t marry him. I’d kill him before I’d marry him. I squeezed my eyes shut, shoving the tears down deep, deep within my cold heart. I had to leave. Soon. Take a trip to Brighton. Or to London. Anywhere.
“Jules,” Mother said, coming to stand next to me. “You’re not smiling.”
I forced my lips upward as I opened my eyes.
“Good.” She nodded at a friend. “I’ve talked with your father and we’ve both agreed that you should go live with your aunt and uncle in the north.”
I stiffened. My mother’s sister and her husband were missionaries who thought it honorable to lead a pious, unencumbered life. No joy. No material possessions. Certainly no painting. They made Reverend Thomas look like a jester.
“I won’t.”
“You don’t have a choice.” She turned toward me. The resolve upon her face frightened me. “You’ve gone too far. We’ve given you too much freedom. If you can prove to us that you will not make such sinful choices again, you might retu
rn.”
“I won’t.”
She sighed. “You have a restless nature, Jules. You always have. When you were a child I often despaired, wondering what would happen to you. Your father said you would outgrow it. You’ve merely gotten worse. You need a husband to temper that discontent.” She smiled and nodded toward a friend. “Since you refuse to marry, you will stay with my sister. You have no money. You have no prospects. Once Penny is married, you will leave.”
She moved away without another word. My entire body went cold. I caught Cecilia’s gaze from across the room. She was making her way toward me, the look of concern in her eyes telling. She knew something was wrong either by instinct, or more likely I looked pale and lifeless. I wanted to run to her, to cry upon her shoulder. But Cecilia relied upon others to survive, she couldn’t help me. I would not drag her into my mess. Alone. I was completely alone. The tears I’d been trying to hold back burned.
I started to turn away, intending to flee when I spotted a man with dark hair strolling through the crowd. I knew it wasn’t James, yet my heart hammered all the same. The gait was familiar enough that it made my anger flare, even as my heart skipped a beat in anticipation of seeing him. How could he have such control over me? Would every dark-haired man stir my blood now?
“Not him,” I whispered to myself. “It’s not him.”
He turned to speak with someone, a look of bored acceptance upon his handsome face. A familiar face. I froze. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Could only stand there and stare. He looked more finely dressed than a farmer should, the same suit he’d worn only a couple hours before when he’d taken my virginity in his home. Why was he here? Why?
He moved casually through the crowd, stopping once in a while to talk to someone important. I stumbled back into the wall. My body instantly reacted to his nearness, coming to life. Part of me wanted to go to him, part of me want to flee.
“Jules?” Cecilia whispered, grasping onto my hand. “What’s happening? Tell me now!”
“It’s him,” I said, horrified. “Lia, it’s him.”
She shook her head. “Who?”