“You mean you won’t.” His tone was hard again.
“I mean I won’t,” she said quietly.
“Because it is I who ask you,” he said.
And he turned his head and set his mouth to hers and kissed her fiercely and openmouthed for several long moments while her mind spun off into space and she clung tohim, all the aches of the past two days suddenly focusedagain in the one embrace. With a man who had offered forher and whom she had rejected. With a man who dislikedher and whom she hated—hadhated. With a man whocould make her want to cry and cry for no discernible reason at all.
He released her suddenly, and she felt bereft and disoriented. He was stooping down to pick up her bonnet and her reticule and straightening up to hand them to her. His eyeswere hard. “You are a foolish woman, Julia,” he said. “Youwould rush to your own destruction just to spite me, wouldyou not? Perhaps I should urge you to marry him. Perhapsthen you would feel obliged to reject him.”
She slid her feet into her shoes and tied the ribbons of her bonnet beneath her chin with hands that did not feelquite steady. “I will do what I consider right for myself,”she said. “I am not your mother or your sister. You do notneed to burden yourself with my care, Daniel.”
She turned to walk back in the direction of the house, and he fell into step beside her. He did not offer his arm.They walked all the way back without speaking a word.
Frederick stood at the top of the horseshoe steps whistling. But it was an enforced cheerfulness that he displayed, for the benefit of the servants in the hall behindhim. He was not feeling cheerful. His eyes were narrowedon the driveway as it emerged from the trees.
Interesting, he thought. Why would they be making off in the direction of the lake instead of coming directly backto the house? Why indeed? Judging from the way those twoapparently felt about each other, they should have been taking the shortest route back so that they could be rid of eachother.
And why had Dan attached himself to her in the village even to the extent of visiting with her people who couldmean nothing whatsoever to him? Frederick could not feelconvinced by Camilla’s argument that as the new Earl ofBeaconswood Dan felt obliged to make himself agreeableto some of the leading families of the village. PrimrosePark did not belong to him, after all. Unless he intendedthat it would.
Dan had whisked her away from the lake the afternoon of the picnic too, when Frederick had intended to press hisadvantage and take tea with her. And neither one of themhad come back in a hurry.
Could he have underestimated Dan? Frederick wondered. Was it possible after all that he was interested in Jule or interested in Primrose Park? Was it possible that he wasindeed a contestant for her hand, a crafty one? And wasthere even a glimmering of a chance that Jule would favorhim? The lure of a countess’s title and the other propertiesand all the rest of the fortune must be strong. Not that hewould expect Jule to be swayed by such considerations.But would the lure of Dan, a man who had always dislikedher and whom she had always hated, be equally strong?The attraction of opposites? The love/hate relationship?
It seemed altogether possible.
Frederick left off whistling in order to grin. But neither the expression nor his amusement lasted long. Normally hewould welcome a worthy opponent and long odds. Theywould add uncertainty and excitement to the game. But unfortunately the game had just become too desperate a one,winning it just too crucial to his well-being.
He had been right to feel unease when one creditor had found him at Primrose Park. For of course now others hadfound him there too. One particularly nasty letter had beenawaiting him on his return from the village. It was from acreditor who had lost both his patience and his sense ofhumor. Either the Honorable Mr. Frederick Sullivan wouldpay up immediately, it seemed, or he must bear the consequences. And the sum in question was enough to makeFrederick break out in a cold sweat.
The only way he could save himself from the humiliation of throwing himself on his father's mercy—and even his father’s considerable fortune would be dented by thepayment of all his debts—or from the disaster of debtors’prison was to persuade Jule to marry him. Soon. Before themonth was out. All the pleasure involved in the game ofcourting her was gone, for the game could no longer beplayed at his leisure. And it must be won.
And so damnation to Dan and his sly courtship, if indeed that was what he was involved in. Dan had quite enough already. More than enough. And he had no expensive habitsas far as Frederick knew. Besides, he had the young andlovely Miss Morriston waiting for him in London. A manought not to be allowed to become too greedy.
Frederick waited for a while, but the two did not emerge from the trees again. Whatever they were doing down bythe lake, they were taking their time about it. He had tomake a conscious effort to restore the accustomed goodhumor to his face before turning to enter the house.
* * *
Julia was late for dinner. Not that she was so busy in the late afternoon that she left herself insufficient time tochange and tidy herself. She was not busy at all, in fact. Onher return from the lake, she withdrew to the conservatoryand curled up on the window seat with the curtain pulledacross to hide her from anyone who happened to straythere. She clasped her knees and stared sightlessly out overthe rose arbor. And thought.
And realized something all in a rush. Something characteristically stupid. And impossible. And totally undesirable. She only wondered if it had always been so or if it had happened more recently—since his arrival at Primrose Parkjust before Grandpapa’s death. Or even more recently. Perhaps as recently as that afternoon. Had she fallen in lovewith him just that afternoon and merely because of thestory he had told her? Or had that story just revealed thetruth that had been in existence before that?
What truth? It could not be the truth, surely. It would be just too utterly ludicrous. It was just that he had aroused hersympathies. And like all women—foolish women, andfoolish of herself to so generalize—she had fallen in lovewith a rather sad story. Or rather with the man who had toldit.
Yes, of course it was ridiculous. Too stupid even to be considered with any seriousness. She would laugh at herself in the morning when she had had time to sleep on it—ifshe slept, that was. Or else she would have put the afternoon’s experience into proper perspective and realized thatshe could sympathize with a man without falling in lovewith him. Indeed, it would be a pleasant realization to wakeup to. For the first time since her early childhood she wouldperhaps be able to like Daniel. Understanding could breedliking.
But it was no good. There was no point in trying to be sensible. She should know that from experience. Emotion—intuition—was always more powerful than goodsense. She knew it for a fact, then, and she knew that agood night’s sleep, even if such a thing were to be had,would not change that fact. This was what she had always known would happen to her one day. It was what she had awaited for so long. It was the reason she had rejected halfa dozen suitors. She had always known that one day shewould love, and that she could not marry unless or untilthat happened.
It was stupid and unreasonable and not at all desirable. She had no wish whatsoever to be in love with Daniel, butin love with him she was. Yes, she might as well admit itfinally in words even if she did not speak them aloud.
She loved Daniel. The words sounded strange. Impossible to believe. Strangely heartwarming. Daniel!
And so everything was spoiled. Any hope she might have had that she could stay at Primrose Park was gone.Any hope that she might have been able to remain a member of the family that had always seemed hers but hadnever actually been hers was gone. She would not now beable to marry any of the cousins—not Malcolm or Les orFreddie. And certainly not Daniel. For even if he could beinduced to renew his offer—and he had said that he wouldnot do so—she would not be able to accept him. Him leastof all, for it would be impossible to marry a man who didnot love her when she did love him. Better to marry Freddie, who would not demand love, or Les, who would notexpect it.
Except that she could not marry either. Or anyone. Ever. Perhaps that was being a little melodramatic. Perhaps lovethat was not fed died eventually—in a year or ten years or ahundred years, perhaps. Perhaps if that happened she wouldbe able to love again. Perhaps she would even be able tomarry. Who knew? There was always hope for happy endings, she supposed, as long as one still lived and breathed.
She was going to have to talk with Freddie and Les. She was going to have to reject their offers. She was not sure ifshe needed to explain to Malcolm since he had not yetmade her any sort of an offer. But in order to tidy up looseends she supposed that she should. She was going to haveto do it all within the next day at the longest and then try topersuade Mr. Prudholm to come back early. There was nopoint in prolonging speculation within the family when hermind was made up irrevocably.
She must start thinking about her uncle and aunt and their family in the north of England. She must start accustoming herself to the fact that she was going to be theresoon. Perhaps it would not be as bad as she expected. Afterall, she was not a child to be making a nuisance of herself.She was an adult and could be of some use. Anyway, out ofsheer pride she would probably take some sort of employment.
