“I am not going to revisit the past, Shelbourne. It is done, and we cannot change it. All we can do is move forward.”
“And your concept of moving forward is marrying me and then taking my daughter to another continent so you can let whomever you wish beneath your skirts,” he bit out coldly.
“She is my daughter as well.” She held out her hands, trying to take Emily from his arms, but he was having none of it. “You are angry now. Take some time to think about what I have said. You will realize I cannot remain here with her.”
“You can, and you will.”
Fortunately, Emily remained unaffected by the icy discourse happening around her. She was now tugging on her father’s earlobe as if she hoped it might disconnect from his head. Shelbourne winced but allowed it.
“No, Shelbourne,” she said, softening her voice so she would not upset Emily. “You must see reason. I will not have her whispered about. I have gone to great lengths to make certain she will never be reviled.”
“Not the greatest length,” he countered. “The best length, Julianna. That would have been to send word to me or to return to England. I would have married you despite the way I feel about you.”
Despite the way I feel about you.
How cutting those words were, a blistering reminder.
“And how is it you feel about me?” she asked.
“That you are an adventuring, conniving jade. A liar. A heartless bitch. Would you have me continue?” He raised a brow.
She felt each one of those aspersions as if they were rocks pelting her heart. Her stupid, painful heart, which still beat for him. Which still loved him, even when it should not.
“Then you can see the merit of allowing me to return to America,” she pointed out coolly.
“You may return to America as it pleases you,” he said. “Hell, go to the darkest corner of the world for all I care. But Emily is staying here. With me.”
He thought to keep Emily and send her away?
“Never,” she vowed. “I will not leave my daughter.”
He eyed her, stony. Cold. Impenetrable and yet still treating their daughter to the gentlest and most protective of touches. “Then welcome back to England,chérie. I am afraid this is where you shall stay.”
“No.” The word left her, a gasp.
“Yes,” he said, his smile ugly and yet his face so handsome. So brokenly, beautifully handsome. “We will marry. We will raise her as our daughter. And if you attempt to take her from me, you will regret it, madam.”
He was threatening her. And her baby girl was toying with his too-long, dark hair now, tugging on it. “Pa!” she cried. Then, “Bub.”
NeverMama. Because Julianna could not refer to herself thus, lest the nurse or other servants overhear. As it was, they must have found her interest in Emily’s care confusing. None of them spoke a word to suggest they did, but Julianna was no fool. Servants played a role. But they were people. They had opinions, thoughts, emotions, just the same as the men and women they served. Belowstairs was a torrent of gossip.
Julianna stared at Shelbourne, realizing he was offering her everything she wanted.
Except her freedom.
Also realizing, she would and could sacrifice for her daughter. They could not go on living this half life, these lies, forever. That knowledge was what had sent her across an ocean. Had sent her back to the man she loved. The man who had stolen her heart and then broken it.
“I will not share your bed,” she told him. “You cannot force me.”
“It would not be force and you know it.”
His voice was deceptively calm. The fire in his eyes undeniable. Heat slid through her.Remembrance.Those lips of his had worked sinful magic over her body. His hands had traveled every inch of her flesh. He had brought her to life. Made her burn. And in the end, had left her nothing but a scorched shell of her former self.
“I want a chaste marriage,” she insisted.
“I need an heir.”
She had not expected this either. Though perhaps she should have. He was the heir to a marquisate. It stood to reason he would want a son of his own to inherit, one day.
