He’d been lucky enough to find her. He damn well wasn’t going to lose her without one hell of a fight.
Jules would come to her.Charley had no doubt. He would tell her about the contract and then he would explain his decision. Her imagination refused to cease mulling over the two scenarios she faced,that he faced, denying her a single moment of peace. Either he was going to honor the contract and marry Felicity, leaving Charley to face her grandparents as a ruined woman and possibly have the scandal follow her back to America. Or he was going to insist upon marrying her and live the remainder of his life feeling like he was less than a man.
Either option, as far as she was concerned, was unacceptable.
Unless he loved Felicity, but she could not believe that. He would not lie to her. He’d been honest with her from the very beginning.
But there was always the possibility that he had changed his mind.
When soft knocking sounded at the door, her suddenly racing heart had her leaping to her feet.
She didn’t wait for Daisy to cross the room to answer, or for Mrs. Crabtree to set aside her knitting, but rushed forward in a most unladylike fashion not caring what either of them thought.
It was not, however, Jules who awaited her on the other side of the door.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Jackson. My son has other responsibilities to attend to this morning. But I would have a word with you, woman to woman. Walk with me.”
The countess’s voice sounded pleasant enough, and her smile appeared kind, but combined with her words and a calculating glint in her eyes, Charley braced herself for the conversation to come.
Julian hadn’t come to her yet. Surely, he would not have sent his mother?
Without inviting her hostess inside of her chamber, Charley turned and nodded at Daisy.
“Mrs. Crabtree may remain with your maid.” Lady Westerley gestured toward the foyer.
Charley straightened her back and stepped through the door, closing it softly behind her.
“Shall we walk this way?” It was not a question, really, so Charley merely followed the countess’s regal figure through corridors that had become quite familiar by now. And ironically, enough, moments later they turned the corner that led to the gallery.
The countess stopped at Julian’s father’s portrait, and Charley waited silently, patiently.
“Has my son informed you of the scenario that led to my husband’s death?”
Cautiously, Charley dipped her chin. “He has.”
“I have no doubt Westerley cares for you. For all his charm and confidence, he is a sensitive man. He is a very good man and takes his responsibilities seriously.” The woman shrugged her elegant shoulders. “But there was a time when he did not. As most young men in his position often do, he sowed a few oats. More than a few, actually. And his father and I couldn’t help but be concerned. When Lord Casterley confronted my husband, informing him of Jules’ behavior with Lady Casterley, and that there would be a duel, my husband signed a contract with Lord Brightly—Lady Felicity’s father. They concluded that an official betrothal would bring an end to his recklessness—that such a commitment could allow him to put his irreverence for his duties and our family’s standing behind him once and for all.”
Daisy had been right—as had Mrs. Crabtree.
“But his father’s death did that instead,” Charley guessed, at the same time thinking that locking a person into such an agreement was not the way to keep them from rebelling.
“It hardly seemed necessary to bring the contract to light at the time. He was…” The countess’s eyes seemed bleak and for a moment, rather than feel resentment toward Jules’ mother, Charley sympathized with her. “He was not himself. Not only had he settled down, but he cut himself off from true happiness. He bears the guilt of his father’s death, and he will bear it forever.”
Charley knew this. It was a series of poor choices capped off with what ought to have been a miniscule miscalculation. Charley blinked away a stinging in her eyes at the thought. Her own heart would never stop aching for him because she knew he could never truly forgive himself.
“When Felicity told Lord Brightly of my son’s betrayal, the two of us decided it was time to bring the contract to light.”
This was even worse than Charley had imagined. Jules already carried a tremendous burden of guilt and now… “Surely, you didn’t tell him the reasoning behind it?”
“It was important that he understand why he wasn’t informed of it earlier. We kept it from him for his own good. But he is on the cusp of making a terrible mistake. It is nothing personal, Miss Jackson, but being an American, you could never become a proper countess. And although your mother was a gentlewoman, you’ve inherited far more of your father’s… American traits.”
Charley could only nod as the countess continued. Not that she agreed, exactly, but she could accept the woman’s assessment.
“I had not expected that my son and you would be alone together for so long. The storm made for more than one catastrophe. In your situation, however, this poses a few unfortunate complications. But my party is nearing its conclusion with the ball tonight and I’ve sent a messenger after your father, requesting he retrieve you here without delay. If he cannot, other arrangements can be made to convey you and your maid back to London.”
Charley swallowed hard, biting back the rage surfacing on Jules’ behalf. These people had manipulated his guilt to suit their own purposes. Of course, they rationalized that it was for his own good, but he was a grown man.
The scheme revolted her.
