“Wife?” Her eyes rounded in shock, and she rose abruptly. “How can I be your wife?”
Confused, he stood as well. “It’s not difficult. I can obtain the license and the parish church will read the banns for three weeks. We can be married well before All Saints Day.”
She stepped away from him, her eyes appearing a bright green. “No, I mean I’m a lady.”
“Yes. And I’m a man. That’s not unusual.”
She shook her head as she buried her hands in her skirts. “No, what I mean is I’m of the peerage.”
A knot started in his stomach. “Yes, that’s true. But there’s no law to keep us from marrying. Orinda and Ambrose married. We would be following in their footsteps.”
Her eyes narrowed. “But I’m not Orinda. I’m Juliet Hastings, Lady Abercorn. And you are Noah Kingman, not Ambrose. This is not 1727.”
Still trying to fathom why any of it mattered if she loved him, he folded his arms. “But you have no family to keep you from marrying, like Orinda did. From what you told me, your brother-in-law would be greatly relieved if he didn’t have to send you your pin money.”
“Yes, but unlike Orinda, I didn’t run away from my life because I was in love. I was tossed out like kitchen slops. I only came here because I had nowhere else to go.”
“So you wish you’d never come here?” The knot in his stomach turned rock hard.
“No. I mean that I didn’t come here seeking love.” Her brows furrowed. “Are you sure you love me and not simply love Orinda’s story?”
An icy thought entered his head that he couldn’t ignore. “Do you not loveme?”
Her gaze left his as she folded her arms across her stomach, but she didn’t answer.
He dropped his arms and turned on his heel, heading for the door. The pain in his chest was too much to suffer in front of her.
“Where are you going?”
He turned the knob and pulled, but the door remained shut. Trying again, he yanked hard, but it didn’t move. Anger overshadowed the pain.
“Noah, please. I need to understand. Can’t we talk about this? We’re very good at talking.”
He turned to face her. “No. Love is something you feel. You can’t be talked into it. I do not want you if you can’t feel it.” He raised his gaze to the portrait over the fireplace. “Orinda, you cannot make someone love you. Open this door now or I will break it down.”
Behind him, the door squeaked and he turned to find it unlatched. Without another word, he yanked it open and slammed it shut behind him.
*
Juliet stared atthe closed door, feeling as if a part of herself left with Noah. Did she love him? She didn’t know. She’d never been in love. She hadn’t even considered marrying again. She faced the portrait and walked to it. “I’m not you. I wasn’t in love before arriving.”
She pressed her hand to her chest as she remembered the look on Noah’s face when she said he was in love with Orinda’sstory. The hurt in his eyes made her stomach turn over. That he hurt upset her, but that she caused it was heartbreaking. She felt like the monster inBeowulf. How could she have hurt the one person she cared about most?
Tears filled her eyes. Never had she felt so cruel. “Surely I must love him if it hurts this much.” She slumped into the small chair near the fireplace. “But does he truly love me? Am I to marry him simply because you married once arriving here?”
A noise near the settee caught her attention and she rose to see what it was. The diary, that had been closed, was open to the last page, which had been blank the other day. She looked down at it on the small table and anxiously read it aloud. “No sacrifice is too great for love.”
Her heart raced at the words, knowing they were Orinda’s advice. She turned from the diary and looked at the portrait. “But am I in love? And is he?”
The dairy flew across the room and into the fire.
“No!” Her heart constricted as she raced to the fireplace. Knocking the book from the flames onto the floor, she beat them out with the nearby broom, tears now streaming down her face.
The feeling of loss doubled. “Don’t do that. Please don’t. Just because I’m confused doesn’t make your love story less beautiful. I’m not you, but I wish I’d known you so I could be like you. I wish….”
She sunk to the floor, gently cradling the diary that had become her greatest treasure. She didn’t know what she wished.
*
