His anger with her was palpable, eclipsed only by his awe for Emily. But all too soon, that simmering rage would be directed at Julianna once more. She did not know what to expect. Her hope—that he would agree to marry her and let Julianna and Emily return to America—seemed a distant, faded memory. An unlikelihood.
Because Shelbourne did not seem like the heartless rakehell she had supposed him after learning the truth two years prior. And nothing like the cruel stranger who had greeted her upon her return to London. Instead, he seemed—dare she think it—like a father, in awe of the daughter he was meeting for the first time.
And that was dangerous.
An angry Shelbourne could be blunted. She could raise her defenses with ease. Give him every bit as much push as he meted out to her. However, a soft Shelbourne, one who spoke to their daughter in such gentle tones… She knew not what to do with him.
Still, she had to dosomething.
What she needed most was his concession. His agreement he would marry her.
“Fair enough,” she conceded, for she had no other choice. “Would you care to sit? Emily is doing quite well at walking. She will be pleased enough to go about and explore.”
He nodded. “What shall I do?”
She realized he was talking about what he should do with Emily. It occurred to her that although he seemed so natural holding their daughter, he likely had little contact with children.
“Set her on her feet, and she will toddle about as she likes. I have already made certain there is nothing she can break or stuff into her mouth in this room,” she reassured him.
Her father had not been prepared to welcome a granddaughter at his townhome. Least of all because his granddaughter was illegitimate. He had not been aware of Emily’s existence until Julianna’s arrival. His stinging wrath had been incredibly painful, though perhaps not entirely unwarranted. Julianna knew the consequences of what she had done; she had spent every day for the past two years living them. The only reason her father had allowed her to remain was because her mother had accompanied her, and Mama had been firm, thank heavens.
The Marquess of Leighton had regarded Julianna’s having a child out of wedlock as one more failing of his wife. His censure had been every bit as harsh for Mama, if not more so, than it had been for Julianna. In the end, it had only been her plan to seek out Emily’s father that had convinced him to allow Julianna and Emily to remain, still beneath the same pretense as in New York.
That Emily was an orphan.
Oh, how the lie hurt Julianna’s heart with its every utterance and observance.
Stiffly, as if he hated the prospect of relinquishing her, Shelbourne lowered Emily to the floor. She was a bubbly child, happiest when she was on an adventure now that she could power herself and get into all manner of trouble without having to crawl. She stood, still slightly unsteady on her feet, something like a new foal. But brave and ready.
When she listed to the right, Shelbourne caught her with a reflex that suggested he had been waiting for this moment, that he had not trusted Julianna when she had encouraged him to let Emily go.
“She can walk, Shelbourne,” she repeated quietly. “Let her show you.”
He glanced back at Julianna, his expression harsh once more, his jaw a hard slash, his green eyes brilliant with emotion. “I thought she was going to fall.”
“If she falls, she will get back up again.”
It was true, both for babies and for adults. Julianna had fallen from a great height. She had fallen from grace. Had fallen in love. She had lost everything except her daughter, which she had fought so desperately to save. Months of hiding her condition in voluminous dresses in New York City followed by a prolonged trip to facilitate their elaborate lie. The lie protected not only her parents, but Julianna and Emily as well. And that had been why she allowed it. Why she lived each day with a secret weighing down her heart and mind.
A secret which had just been revealed.
Shelbourne gave a jerky nod and released Emily. Their daughter took a few slow, sure steps. Then she beamed and clapped her hands, endlessly proud of her accomplishment.
Julianna could not stay her smile and joy. She clapped along with Emily. “There you are, my sweet girl. Look at you walking!”
“Bub!” Emily pronounced again, making her way toward the settee. “Pa!”
Her heart swelled with love.
Becoming aware of Shelbourne’s stare on her, burning into her, Julianna turned back to him. “She has been determined to stand and walk, and she is quite pleased with herself to have finally accomplished her goal.”
He inclined his head, his lips thinning, all the tenderness he had shown Emily dissipating. “And what of her mother’s goals?”
Marriage, he meant.
She seated herself primly on the nearest piece of furniture, a chaise longue. “You know my goals.”
“Ah, of course.” His smile was cutting as he folded his tall, lean form into a chair opposite her. “You wish for a marriage of convenience. You want to marry me and then return to New York with my daughter so you may collect your ill-gotten fortune.”
