Emily sniffled, blinking as tears streaked down her cheeks.
“Mama has you now,” Julianna crooned, rubbing their daughter’s back in soothing strokes.
Mama.
It was the title she had not called herself. His gaze met hers. For a breath, he felt the importance of that word, that moment, to his soul. Even if he did not want to.
He swallowed.
She blinked furiously, and he swore he spied tears glistening in her bluer-than-blue eyes. “It is past time for her to have her nap. I should return Emily to her nurse.”
He inclined his head. His time here, like every day since he had begun these visits, was limited. Soon, he would have as much time as he wished to see Emily. To get to know his daughter. To make up for everything he had missed.
“Go on. I will wait for you.” He could not resist leaning forward and dropping a kiss atop Emily’s head.
As he did so, Julianna’s scent overwhelmed him. Familiar, exotic, floral. Lily of the valley.Christ, but that scent had haunted him in his dreams. As had she.
She rose to her feet, and he did as well.
They faced each other reluctantly.
“You may go,” she told him.
Dismissing him.
He grinned. “I will stay. There is much we need to discuss concerning our pending nuptials.”
She said nothing, but nodded.
He leaned forward, dropping another kiss on Emily’s cheek. “I shall see you again soon, poppet.”
Julianna swept from the room, regal as any queen. He watched her go, unable to keep his gaze from tracing all her curves. Damn the woman, as much as he raged against her for what she had done—what she had stolen from him—he still wanted her. There was no denying it.
Chapter 7
Darling Julianna,
A fortnight has passed since you left for America. I have marked each day of your absence by drowning myself in drink. Still, the pain will not end. I have told myself your departure is for the best. That if you are gone, our paths cannot cross, and I will not be reminded of you. Common sense, of course. However, I cannot imagine a day when you do not haunt my heart, my thoughts. Part of me wants to chase after you. To storm across the Atlantic and bring you back to me. Only my pride keeps me chained to these shores, knowing remaining here is what must be done. You made yourself clear whilst I remain hopelessly murky…
Yours with regret,
Sidney
Julianna took her time returning to the salon where Shelbourne awaited her. She had yet to formulate her battle plan, which was concerning. Her every day had been a heart-piercing jumble of confused emotions, watching Shelbourne bond with Emily, and wondering when he would grow weary of playing the doting papa. Worrying over what would happen if he did not. Now, he wanted to discuss the particulars of their marriage. All she wanted to do was hide. Lock herself in her room and feign a sudden ailment.
Anything to avoid being alone with him.
Her father was likely at his club, or mayhap visiting a mistress. Julianna’s entire relationship with her father had been defined by his absence, so his refusal to spend time in her presence now that she had returned in shame was no surprise to her. Her mother had pleaded the megrims and was napping instead of presiding over Julianna and Shelbourne as she had been meant to do. There was no one about to save her.
And she needed saving.
Because her stupid, reckless heart was beating fast and her palms were sweating just as they once had in his presence. She had felt his gaze on her back as she had departed from the chamber with Emily as if it had been a brand. She would be lying if she claimed watching the natural, easy manner he had toward Emily had not melted some of the ice within her. He had surprised her by seizing the role of father with two eager hands.
The realization felt very much like a reproach. One that burrowed into her heart, deep, regardless of how much she attempted to harden that heart against him. When she reached the salon, she hesitated in the hall, taking a moment to gather her composure.
His back was to her when she entered the chamber. He stood before the windows overlooking the street below. Afternoon light glinted off his dark hair, surrounded him with a surreal glow. How many times had she dreamt of him when she had been in New York City? How many occasions had she thought she had spied him in the crowded streets or at a social crush, only to realize it was not Shelbourne, but a stranger instead?
She had lost count.
