He seemed very much like a dream now. Until he turned to face her, his handsome countenance hewn of bitterness and harsh angles. “Has she settled down for her nap?”
Of course his first concern would be for their daughter. The responsibility he had taken on both surprised and nettled her. It was not what she had come to expect from the carousing scoundrel who had so thoroughly charmed and fooled her.
Julianna kept the distance between them, halting behind a chair and resting her fingers upon its gilt back. “She did.”
“Good.” He nodded, almost to himself, and moved forward. Long, swift strides. Coming toward her.
Thank heavens for the chair, her shield. Her hands tightened upon it. “What is it you wished to discuss?”
“Why are you hiding behind the chair?”
Drat.
“I am not hiding.”
A lie, of course. Shewashiding. This man had too much power over her. He always had.
His lips quirked, as if he found her response humorous. “If you insist.”
“I have other obligations today,” she snapped at him, already feeling raw and worn thin by his presence, by the inevitability of their future. “Do carry on with whatever you wished to discuss.”
“I wished to discuss when our marriage will occur, naturally.” He studied her, his green eyes probing and vibrant. “I am ready to cease these visits. It will be better for Emily to live with her father instead of to remain at her grandfather’s home as a well-guarded secret.”
She could not deny the accuracy of his claim. He was right about that, of course. The ability to live openly and be free to acknowledge her daughter was incredibly alluring. Still, the idea of being married to Shelbourne, of the expectations he would have…
I need an heir.
Shelbourne’s words returned to her, bringing with them a rush of unwanted heat.
She was ashamed to admit that despite the way he had broken her heart, in spite of everything she knew, she still longed for him. Two years and one devastated heart later, and nothing had changed in that regard. All the more reason to return to America as soon as she could.
“When do you propose it should occur?” she forced herself to ask.
“Tomorrow.”
Had the floor opened up and swallowed her whole, sending her into the abyss, she would not have been more shocked. Julianna clung to the chair to keep from sinking into a heap.
“Tomorrow,” she repeated, then paused, licking her suddenly dry lips.
Good heavens.He could not possibly intend to get married tomorrow? She needed time to prepare herself.
“Everything is in order,” he continued, as if he had not just declared they would be husband and wife within a day’s time. “There is no need to delay. Indeed, doing so is only detrimental to Emily. The sooner she is settled, the better.”
Her fingers tensed on the chair. “But that leaves me precious little time to prepare.”
“If you wish to delay, I can bring her to Cagney House without you,” he offered calmly.
Of course, he knew how hateful the prospect of being without her daughter would be.
“No.”
“Cagney House is where she belongs, Julianna. She is my daughter, and the life she is living now—it is insupportable.”
She tipped up her chin. “It is the best I could do for her.”
Still, he remained poised. His self-control was impeccable. The bitter, drunken stranger who had greeted her on their first reunion was nowhere to be found. His transformation nettled and pleased simultaneously. She did not trust it.
Nor did she trusthim. She had done so once, and look at where it had landed her.
