“I made a mistake, Your Grace,” Juliet said, “A rather grave one. I don’t know how to convince you to forgive me, but I know one thing, Your Grace… I know that you still love me. You do love me, so I don’t think there’s any reason for you to be mad at me.”
Benedict’s eyes glowered and he turned red with anger. He could not believe what he was hearing. He started speaking and stopped. The more he spoke, the longer he had to endure Juliet. He pursed his lips and nodded for her to continue speaking.
“I am also quite certain that I still love you too, despite whatever may have happened in the past, and wrong choices I may have made...” She had the decency to look away.
Benedict ground his teeth. She wasn’t saying anything new to him. At best she was running around, dancing around the topic. She was up to something and he wondered what it was.
“... Despite the mistakes,” she continued, “I am certain you love me. I do love you too…”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Benedict asked. “I don’t love you, Juliet. Why do you insist on saying that I do? What purpose does that serve?”
“Argue all you want,” she replied smugly. “I happen to know the truth of things. So say whatever you want and make whatever arguments you find pleasing. Nothing you do will change my mind.”
Benedict watched her coolly. He’d heard enough. “You asked to talk, Juliet. And I was gracious enough to honor your request. Now, I ask your leave. I do need to get going. There’s a matter of utmost importance I must hasten to.”
“What is thisurgent matteryou’ve been referring to?” Juliet asked, her face turning fierce. “What is more important to you than me?”
She watched him and he ignored her, waiting only for the ordeal to end. “It’s a personal matter. It concerns you not.”
Juliet’s frown deepened. “It’s that uncouth girl, is it not? From the deep lines etched into your face right now, I imagine I’m right. When I first heard, I was certain it was nothing but an unfounded rumor, a treacherous lie.
“Alas, look like I heard right after all.” Juliet laughed, the sound cold and mean. “I must applaud you, Your Grace. Cleverly done. I know what your plan is and I’m very impressed. You intended to use your courtship with the wench to make me jealous.
“It was all fake, all a lie, but your plan worked. I did get jealous. You’re mine, Benedict, and she can’t have you. Not tonight, not ever.” Under her breath, she added, “the little kitten, speaking with her betters like equals, going where she isn’t welcome, and meddling. Always meddling. I can’t stand her. Good thing she will soon get the punishment she deserves…”
Benedict looked up sharply. Juliet looked up too as well, a curious look on her face, and then her face resolved into shock. Benedict frowned and showed teeth in anger.
She hadn’t meant for him to hear all she had said. She was thinking out loud, and had blurted out hateful words. Benedict did pick up one thing, though. Juliet was planning to harm Augusta. He didn’t know how, but he couldn’t put it past Juliet to find a way.
Benedict felt a red haze creep into his vision, his breathing tightly like the warning hiss of a dangerous snake. He leaned forward, until his lips were inches from Juliet’s ear. “Hear me now, Juliet. I don’t care about you.
“I once thought you were a friend, but now you can’t even be that. I was never in love with you, I only agreed to marry you becausemy fatherinsisted. Whatever you thought we had, it died when you left.”
Her countenance broke when she saw the look on his face. He was telling the truth. They were done. He bared his teeth at her, “Please step away… I need to go find my wife.”
CHAPTER25
There was one thing Augusta hated more than anything else as she watched her mother, her eyes glazed over as she stared out through the window in her room. It was the waiting and watching.
She had always hated that although her mother knew of her father’s infidelity and was constantly hurt by them, she continued to pine after him, hope filling her otherwise empty eyes whenever she saw him arrive through the door, his lips parted as he whistled a tune.
She’d hated it then and she hated it now, which was why it angered her so much that she couldn’t stop herself from searching around the room for the man who’d broken her heart.
It’d been a while since she arrived with her family at the dinner party and she still hadn’t caught a glimpse of him yet.
Is he avoiding me? Has he moved on to someone else already? Did he not attend the dinner party.
With every scan she made of the room, the questions increased, becoming noisier until she could no longer block them out and was stuck with her thoughts.
Her hands clenched by her side, her nails digging painfully into her palm. She welcomed the pain, a more merciful reprieve from the one she couldn’t stop by simply unclenching her fingers or rubbing salve over it. Her heart hurt more than anything else ever did and she could do nothing to stop it.
Is this how Mother felt?
She was glad that, in those times, she’d been there for her mother, watchful and caring as her father took everything away from her until she became a shell of herself.
In the days that passed, after her announcement during breakfast, her family had been more attentive to her. They’d suggested walks, all of which she’d gone one, rest, which she’d been glad to take and the pianoforte, which she’d wished she could do without. The last thing she wanted as she battled the pain of heartbreak was to be reminded of her shortcomings on the pianoforte as it grinded in her ears, causing a headache.
She appreciated their attentions but they’d not known the extent of her pain, none of which was a fault of theirs. She wished only to hide from the world as she recovered. Perhaps she was being dramatic, but she cared not.
