“Daniel,” she said. The parasol was spinning so fast that it must be whipping up a breeze about her head. “You aretoo stuffy for your own good. You make the marriage bedsound like the dullest place in the world. And I do have achoice. Yes or no. Listen to my answer. It is no.”
He should let it go. He knew that. He had done the honorable thing and been rejected. He had persisted and been rejected again. He should let it go and begin rejoicing in hisnarrow escape. He should begin allowing himself to thinkof Blanche again. Julia’s answer was crystal clear. Andknowing her as he did, he knew that there would be noshifting her.
“I must insist,” he said. “Even apart from what happened this morning, Julia, you must realize that you need my protection. You admitted to me that the prospect of going tolive with your uncle is less than appealing. And your marriage prospects here can be no more so. There is no onewith whom you could be happy.”
“Let me make myself clear,” she said, “once and for all. I would rather go to my grave as a miserable spinster thanmarry you, Daniel. I would rather be dead. I would rathermarry a dragon. And as for my other prospects, I have hadtwo offers just today—two apart from yours, which was acommand rather than an offer. I am giving serious andcareful consideration to both.”
“Who?” His hands clasped themselves tightly at his back.
“Les and Freddie,” she said. “And you are not invited to comment, Daniel. You have no right to do so. I shallchoose one of them and I will be happy with my choice.”
“You will be miserable,” he said.
“Then I will be miserable,” she said. “Either way, it is none of your concern.” She got to her feet. “I am goingback to the lake for tea. Are you coming?”
He stood and stared at her.
“On second thoughts,” she said, “I have lost my appetite, and I do not much care for the prospect of walking all theway back to the lake at your side, Daniel. I am going intothe house. Alone, if you please. I think even you will agreethat it is unexceptionable for me to walk that far unescortedand unchaperoned.” She turned and walked out through theother archway and on up to the terrace.
The earl watched her go without moving. Freddie. She was going to marry Freddie. She had refused him and wasgoing to choose his cousin instead. She had said she wouldrather be dead than married to him. He waited for the senseof freedom, for the euphoria that was bound to follow onhis escape from a dreaded fate. But he felt only—what?
Disappointment?Disappointment?Had she said yes, he would have been shackled to her for life. He would havebeen subjected to her bold, unconventional, sometimes vulgar ways for the rest of his life. He would have been subjected to permanent anger, frustration, outrage. He wouldhave quarreled with her every day for the rest of their lives.No, he could not possibly be feeling disappointment. Did aman feel disappointed when he had just been reprievedfrom imminent execution?
He felt—hurt? Hurt that she would reject him with such vehemence and such scorn when he had agonized over hisdecision and come to it with such heavy reluctance? Hurtthat she showed no gratitude? Hurt that she would chooseFreddie or even Les before him? The whole world of manbefore him? He could not be feeling hurt.
But the thought had been there at the back of his decision. The consolation. The thought he had been quite unaware of until now and even now shied away from. The thought that when he married her the brightness, the exuberance that was Julia would be part of his home, part ofhis life. The thought that when he married her he would beable to complete what had been started that morning. Thethought that he would be able to delight his senses with heralluring and passionate body. Not just once but over andover again through their lives. In his own bed, in his ownhome.
Yes, the feeling was disappointment, he decided as he turned and walked resolutely back in the direction of the lake.Disappointment that he was not after all to possess the mostattractive female body he had ever felt drawn to. The onlyone for which he had felt an almost overpowering and persistently lingering craving.
He despised himself for such carnal desires. And after all he felt relief. It was a great escape he had just had. Foralong with that body, of course, came Julia. Not just her exuberance, but her unconventionality, her careless disregardfor what was expected of her as a lady. And her hostilitywhenever he tried to confront her. She would not be a suitable countess. She would not suit him—or at least shewould not suit the kind of person his position compelledhim to be.
The fact that she was crying by the time she reached her room angered her more than anything else. It was the finalstraw. She slammed the door behind her, hurled her parasolacross the room and followed it with her slippers, one at atime, and then with her bonnet. But she still felt no better.The tears had developed into sobs and after that there wasno stopping the despicable self-pity. She threw herself facedown across the bed and howled and pummeled the bedspread with the sides of her fists.
The sheer insult of it!You must marry me, Julia. I must insist.Because he believed he had compromised her virtuethat morning. Because even she must be encompassed byhis cold sense of duty to what was right and proper. Not—will you marry me, Julia? Please will you reconsider?But—you must marry me. I must insist.
It was too much. It was just too much. Her mind and her emotions could not cope with everything that had happenedin the course of one day. When Grandpapa had been alive,she had sometimes looked back on a day and been almostalarmed to find that she could not remember a single thingof any significance that had happened. She longed for a return of those days. Those blessedly quiet and rather dulldays when there had been Grandpapa to read to and AuntMillie to converse with.
And she longed for Grandpapa. Oh, to be able to go along to his room right now and tiptoe inside to see if hewas awake. To sit quietly at his bedside if he were not. Tofuss over him if he were.
Grandpapa! She wailed anew and felt doubly bereft when she remembered that all this misery was his fault. Because he had thought to force her into doing what he wasconvinced was the only thing that could make her happy—marriage. Men! They were all alike. They all thought thatmarriage was a woman’s only salvation.You must marryme, Julia.
The morning’s encounter had been deeply disturbing to her. Though she had spoken of it lightly to Daniel, she didnot feel it lightly. She had tried to put it all out of her mind,get it into proper perspective by her encounter with Freddie. But it just had not gone away. It disturbed her to knowthat she and Daniel could have fallen into such a hot and intimate embrace. He had touched her naked breast. He hadtouched herthereeven though the fabric of her breecheshad been between his hand and her flesh. She had wantedhim with a terrible yearning that had not after all been allphysical.
Oh, she had told herself that that was all it had been. She had told him that that was all. But it had been more thanthat. She had quarreled with him a little while ago when hewas being autocratic, and she had spoken lightly and carelessly when the morning’s doings had been mentioned. Butshe had known as soon as he had stepped close to her andspoken to her that she had been far more deeply affectedthan she had realized. That her emotions had been battered.
She had yearned for some kind words from him, for some sensible words. She had yearned to talk with him instead of just sparring with him. That was all she and Danielever did. Spar. Fight Quarrel. She had wanted them to talk.She had hoped... But she was as much to blame as he, sheknew. Perhaps more so. She had had her defenses up too,making light of everything he said, being quarrelsomewhenever she could. She had not, she supposed, given outvery strong signals that she wanted a truce.
Just a temporary truce. Just long enough that they could talk over the puzzling mystery of their behavior that morning. She needed some explanation, some understanding.Some peace between them. She wanted him to go away.She wanted her old life back. She wanted her grandfatherback.
Julia got up off the bed and went through to her dressing room to blow her nose and try to repair some of the damage to her face. She glanced in a looking glass and made a faceat the red-eyed, red-cheeked apparition who looked back.She wanted her grandfather back, indeed! She would besniveling for her mother next. He had apologized. Apologies did not come easily toDaniel, especially when they were directed to her. But he had done it. He had held out an olive branch and she had slapped it away. She had even made fun of him. And yetshe was blaming him for arrogance and lack of feeling? Hehad asked her to marry him. But no, he had not asked. Hehad told. And ithadbeen arrogant, all of it.
She had looked at him standing there in the rose arbor, her emotions all raw and bruised, wanting reassurance,wanting—sympathy. Wanting—oh, she did not know whatshe had wanted. And all she had got was cold attention toduty. He had been prepared to marry her because hethought he ought. Was she being unfair to him? Julia eyedwith some misgiving the bowl of cold water she had justpoured and then resolutely plunged her face into it. No, shewas not being unfair.
She really would rather be dead than married to Daniel.
She came up sputtering, her eyes tightly closed, and felt around for a towel.
Another thought arrested her movements, though, as she dabbed at her face with the towel. She had objected to hisproposal because it was arrogant? Not simply because itwas a proposal? How would she have reacted had it beenmade differently? If he had really asked. Would it havemade a difference?
