Heaviness tightened her chest at the thought of him with another woman. She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head in an attempt to dispel the unpleasant sensation. It was for the best—it had to be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The houses of Mayfair opened their doors and welcomed their owners back early. Fires were lit, and amidst the snow and ice of late January, the streets came alive as more society members returned. The once darkened rows of houses boasting some of London’s most prestigious addresses twinkled brightly.
There was something to be said for London in the dead of winter, Jillian mused as the carriage clattered down Brook Street en route to Lady Bea’s home on Grosvenor Square. The ice-covered sidewalks and the icicles dangling from street lamps glistened merrily against the brightly lit houses. There was almost a festive air, much like Christmas time had been at Whittington. She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands.
“Nervous, gel?” Lady Bea asked gently from across the seat.
“A little,” Jillian admitted.
The two were just returning from the dressmaker’s for Jillian’s final fitting. In an hour’s time the garment would be delivered and Jillian would make ready for her engagement ball.
“I would feel better if I had been able to see Justin before tonight. The few times we met for tea hardly constitute a real visit.”
Lady Bea leaned over and patted Jillian’s hand. “Don’t fret, my dear. I imagine he has been frightfully busy trying to discover who has tried to harm you. You’ll see him in just a few hours.”
Jillian leaned back in her seat and suppressed a heavy sigh. She was still not entirely sure how tonight’s ball was supposed to help in uncovering her pursuer. The man from the docks was hardly someone who would be welcome in the drawing rooms of London society. Justin had reminded her that gossip had a way of filtering down into the lowest of ranks, so they would start at the top. She just wanted to get on with the quiet life she had planned—the life without Justin.
She closed her eyes and banished the unwelcome pang. She had this one night of wonder ahead of her, and she would forget about the future for now.
Once back at Lady Bea’s, Jillian was ushered into her bath, and two maids began preparing her for the night ahead. She was washed and perfumed, her long hair dried and brushed until it shone. Then it was curled and wound atop her head in an elegant knot. Loose tendrils escaped and floated gently down the sides of her face. Her dress was carefully brought to her and she stepped gingerly into it, not wanting to wrinkle the soft material.
She stood patiently in front of the mirror as the maids completed the task of buttoning and securing the dress. The soft swell of her breasts peaked over the top of the dress, framed with a white fur mantle that hugged her shoulders. Beneath the mantle, her skirts fell in shimmering waves of silver that cascaded in soft folds to the floor. Formal white gloves encased her slender arms and continued up past her elbows, disappearing gracefully beneath the fur.
She swallowed her nervousness as a maid delivered the message that Justin had arrived. Would he find her beautiful? Drawing a deep breath, she gathered the fan that completed her ensemble and headed out of the dressing room.
Justin awaited her at the second-story landing and she caught her breath as she neared him. He was attired almost completely in black save for the ruffled white shirt and smartly tied cravat. His unfashionably long hair had been trimmed, but it still curled rebelliously at his collar.
As she came to a stop in front of him, a lock of hair fell over his brow eliciting a smile from her. Unable to resist, she gently pushed it away from his eyes. Her fingers lingered for a moment longer, and then he captured her gloved hand and brought it to his lips.
“You look beautiful,” he said huskily. He led her into a nearby sitting room and closed the door behind them. “I wanted a moment alone with you before we go into the ballroom,” he said as they settled down onto one of the couches.
He cupped her chin and kissed her gently, searchingly. He groaned deep in his throat. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I you,” she said breathlessly. Oh, how she had missed him. She hadn’t realized how much until now. She wanted to lean into him and curl into his arms and remain there.
He reached into his pocket and drew out a stunning diamond and sapphire ring. Her hand trembled as he slid it onto her finger. “This belonged to my mother. It was the ring my father gave her when he asked her to be his duchess.
“I give it to you now, not as a part of our pretense, but to make it real. Say you’ll marry me, Jillian,” he said softly. “Say you’ll spend the rest of your life with me, be the mother of my children and my constant companion.”
Justin watched the uncertainty flicker across her face, the fear. “What can I do to convince you to trust me?”
She rose in agitation. “I do trust you, Justin. It’s me—I am not the woman you should be marrying.”
“It’s more than that,” he said, rising to stand in front of her. “What are you afraid of?” Vulnerability reflected in her eyes, and he cursed his inability to allay her fears.
“Do you know that when a woman marries, she gives up everything? Well, of course you know,” she said hastily. “But do you understand what it feels like to be given over to another person’s authority? Even a woman’s body is no longer her own. It exists for the whim and pleasure of her husband.”
“Unfortunately, that is the case,” he agreed. “And many men use it to their full advantage. I can well understand your reluctance to enter that sort of bondage again.”
“That isn’t all,” she broke in. “I am not the right woman for you, Justin. Don’t you see? I could never be the kind of duchess you want.”
“However,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “This is where you must trust me. I would never dissolve who you are.” His voice was just above a whisper now. Their eyes were locked and he spoke in earnest. “I don’t want a chattel, a figurehead, a broodmare to pop out an heir and a few extra for good measure. I want a partner, a friend and a lover, someone who will delight in me as much as I delight in her. I wantyou.”
Jillian looked at him, a mixture of bewilderment and hope lighting her eyes. “Justin, I—”
“There you two are,” Lady Bea boomed out as she bustled into the room. “The guests are arriving and it’s time to make your appearance.”
