“Nine.”
Joan reached for the door handle.
“Ten.”
Joan pushed the door open and stepped down from the carriage, her bare feet meeting the cold, dew-dampened grass. The frigid morning air cut through her thin nightdress, but she kept her chin high and her expression calm despite the terror coursing through her veins.
Julian Hawthorne stood directly in front of the carriage, flanked by six burly men who looked more like hired thugs than proper servants. He was dressed impeccably despite the early hour, dark coat, pristine cravat, boots polished to a mirror shine. His blond hair was perfectly arranged, and his handsome face wore an expression of smug satisfaction.
“We meet again, Miss Sinclair,” he said smoothly.
“Truly unfortunate,” Joan replied, her voice cold.
Julian’s mouth twitched with irritation, but he quickly schooled his features back into pleasant civility. He cleared his throat and took a step closer.
“I know things didn’t go well the last time we encountered each other,” he said, his tone maddeningly reasonable. “But I want you to understand that I’ve changed. I know better now. I’ve sent the other woman away, she means nothing to me. When she gives birth, the child will be raised as Victoria’s own. The birth mother will have no involvement whatsoever. It will be as though the child were born legitimately to our marriage.”
Joan stared at him in disbelief. “You want my sister to raise your illegitimate child?” The words came out as barely more than a whisper.
Julian’s pleasant expression cracked. His eyes flashed with anger, and when he spoke again, his voice had lost all pretense of gentleness.
“You have no choice here, Miss Sinclair. Victoria is engaged to me. That contract was signed and witnessed. She will marry me, or I will make your family’s life absolute hell. Do you understand?”
Joan’s mind raced. Julian’s family was old, powerful, deeply connected throughout Parliament and the courts. He could destroy them. She could see Damian stripped of his position. He could spread rumors that would make Victoria’s current scandal look like nothing. Could ruin them so thoroughly that they would never recover.
“I’m trying to be reasonable,” Julian continued, his voice taking on a harder edge. “I love your sister. This time, I won’t do anything to hurt her. She’ll have everything she could want—title, wealth, position. All she has to do is fulfill her obligations as my wife.”
He loved her?What a joke! Joan looked at his face and realized that something was deeply wrong with him. She dearly wished she had seen this sooner.
“You cannot marry my sister,” Joan said quietly. “You are not worthy of her.”
Julian’s jaw clenched. “Are you hard of hearing or simply slow-witted? I just explained that I can crush your family. Your brother will lose his position. Your name will be dragged through every scandal sheet in London. You’ll be penniless and homeless within a month. Is that what you want?”
Joan felt a strange calm settle over her. “I’ll marry you.”
The words fell into the silence like stones into still water.
For a moment, no one moved. No one breathed.
Then the carriage door burst open with explosive force. Damian leaped down, his face contorted with fury and disbelief.
“Absolutely not! Joan, have you lost your mind? I forbid it! I?—”
Joan raised her hand, and to her surprise, Damian fell silent. He stood there trembling with rage and fear, but he obeyed her wordless command.
Behind him, Victoria appeared in the doorway, her face as pale as death. She stared at Joan with wide, horrified eyes.
Julian was looking at Joan with an expression somewhere between confusion and calculation. “What does that mean? You’ll marry me?”
“Exactly what I said.” Joan kept her voice steady, businesslike. “You need to restore your reputation. I can help you do that.”
“You?” Julian’s laugh was sharp and dismissive. “What would people think if I married the elder sister instead of my betrothed? I’d look like a fool.”
“Your reputation is already in tatters,” Joan said flatly. “Everyone knows about your mistress. About the baby. About the documents she leaked. Marrying Victoria now would make you look pathetic, a desperate man clinging to a woman who ran from him. But marrying me?” She took a step closer. “That’s a different narrative entirely.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed, but he was listening.
“Everyone knows I had no interest in marriage during my debut—I made that abundantly clear. If I agree to marry you now, it suggests that Victoria’s scandal was blown out of proportion. That the real issue was her youth and inexperience, not your behavior. It makes you look like the mature party who chose the wiser, more suitable bride.”
