There was a hint of surprise when I parsed my words after. I hadn’t realized that “love” would be so easy to say, that it would feel so right. Heart-achingly right. And wrong—so, so wrong.
“You’re in love with Lady Juliet? I hadn’t thought it went that far.” Now both Augies were concerned.
“It didn’t until it did.”
He poured me a glass of water from a nearby pitcher, and I drank it reluctantly. I didn’t particularly wish to be sober. Even in my drunken state, I was barely holding myself together and burdened by thoughts of Juliet. She awoke to find me gone. My stomach soured at the thought with no relation to the drink. Then the organ gave a full revolt, and I retched pathetically, desperately, into the nearby dustbin.
Several minutes of unproductive heaving followed before a now-singular Augie offered me a handkerchief. I wiped my mouth with disgust and lay my head on the cool desk. With the expulsion of the scotch my head was tragically clearer. It was so long before Augie spoke that I’d forgotten his presence.
“Any better?”
“No.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I’d rather not.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
I debated refusing him. He was unlikely to leave me to my self-loathing without a response though.
With an exaggerated sigh I answered. “She was just—there. All day, every day, being intelligent, and kind, and talented, and lovely. And I couldn’t stay away. Every time I told myself I would leave her be, I found my feet heading in her direction without permission. Hugh dragged me into the study like a disobedient child and told me off for compromising her with my attentions. So, finally, I left.”
He nodded thoughtfully for a moment. “How does she feel about all of this?”
“I’m certain she’s relieved to find me gone.”
Augie blinked owlishly at me for a full minute. “You didn’t say goodbye? You didn’t tell her you were leaving? You didn’t discuss your feelings?”
I had never heard Augie take that tone with me in all our years of friendship. I lifted my head from the cool respite of the desk to see that he was angry with me in a way I had never seen. I had experienced irritated Augie, exasperated Augie, patronizing Augie but never furious Augie.
“Of course not, she’s engaged to Rosehill. What would I even say? ‘Juliet, I know you’re already promised to a man who can give you fortune and societal stature and children who won’t be shunned by all of good society, but could you find it in your heart to give all that up for a degenerate gambling bastard who threatened your father with ruin and whose relation will bring you nothing but shame?’”
“I hadn’t thought to put it that bluntly, but yes. That’s what you say. And perhaps include your vast fortune, if you haven’t lost all of it at the gaming table tonight.”
“I haven’t,” I replied offhandedly. “And you, you’re one to talk. How long have you been in love with Anna? Have you told her?”
He deflated a bit at that.
“Alright, it’s easier to say it than to do it. But she must be upset. You truly left without a word?”
“That was badly done, I’ll admit. But it’s for the best. She’ll see that.”
“You cannot be convinced otherwise?”
“No, it’s the right thing.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Then go home, before you do lose your entire fortune. I have no desire to clean any more sick than you’ve already provided.”
He swept out the door, presumably to find a maid to assist in the cleaning. It was moments like this that I wished my office had a window. It did smell terrible in here. I knew I ought to take Augie’s advice and return home, but after I cleaned myself up enough to face the world, I found my feet headed to Temple Bar, to the hells of days long past.
Twenty-Four
DALTON PLACE, LONDON - JUNE 19, 1814
JULIET
