Finally, after the Season had ended and she and her family had left for her father’s country house, she’d received a letter from Worthington. It was poorly written and vague. Its contents were completely inconsistent with how he’d acted the last time she saw him.
He wrote some asinine thing about how he hoped she hadn’t thought more of their acquaintance than he had. Lies, all of it. Hurtful lies. But she’d vowed to never let him see her pain.
Fine. Perhaps she’d looked for him the following Season. Perhaps she’d kept an eye out at every singletonevent she attended. But he hadn’t returned. It was as if he’d disappeared. In fact, she hadn’t laid eyes on him again until this afternoon in Clayton’s stables.
Yes, the Duke of Worthington had hurt her, deeply, and she intended to inflict the same amount of damage on him. If she could learn why Rhys was pretending to be a groomsman, she’d have the upper hand in this entire situation and could use it—would use it—to her advantage. He obviously meant to continue to pretend he was a groomsman. She’d already thought of half a dozen ways she could torture him. What was better than revenge that was fun at the same time?
This afternoon, they’d been interrupted by one of the other groomsmen riding out to inform them another one of the guests wanted to see Alabaster. But Rhys had managed to whisper to her to meet him in the same location at the same time tomorrow and he would give her his answer. His answer regarding whether he would tell her the truth about whatever game he was playing. The way Julianna saw it, the man had little choice but to tell her the truth. Money wasn’t about to sway her. Only the truth would do.
She glanced around the dining room. It was full of guests talking and laughing, but for some reason she felt as if she was all alone. Where was Rhys at the moment? Out in the stables? Was he sleeping on a pile of hay? She nearly snorted at that thought. Surely, he wasn’t spending the nights out there. Or was he? She supposed it depended on exactly what he was up to. Wherever he was, she hoped he was completely unsettled, andshewas the one who had unsettled him. Turnabout was fair play after all.
Mary said something to her that she didn’t hear, and Julianna did her best to smile and nod. She glanced around at all of the young ladies at the table. They were all here for the same purpose. To find a husband. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the guest list seemed to be comprised almost entirely of young ladies who had made their debuts this past Season and who were still not betrothed. Of course, her darling Mary was one of them.
It also hadn’t escaped Julianna’s notice that the guest list seemed to be sorely lacking in eligible males. Given that, and the fact that one of the nation’s most notorious dukes was gallivanting around the stables pretending to be a groomsman, Julianna was convinced this was no ordinary house party. It was no ordinary house party at all.
Her perusal of the table turned up Miss Frances Wharton. Julianna had met the young woman briefly at one of the events of the past Season, but they hadn’t had much of a chance to speak. Tonight, the poor lady looked bored to tears listening to Sir Reginald Francis drone on and on about his friendship with the Prince Regent. Sir Reginald could be a complete drain on one’s nerves. She hoped, for Miss Wharton’s sake, that Sir Reginald wasn’t considering offering for her.
Apart from her proximity to the knight, Julianna had a flash of envy for Miss Wharton. It had to be somewhat freeing to simply be a normal young woman. She and Mary had been raised to be anything but normal. Since the day she was born, at least as far back as she could remember, Julianna was marked for greatness (her mother’s words).
For the daughter of a duke, greatness meant ensuring she made the most advantageous match with the most eligible partner possible. Was it terribly simple to be Miss Wharton? Just a pretty girl with a normal family. Instead of an ‘incomparable’—Julianna hated that word— with the largest dowry and best connections, expected to make the best match.
Julianna expelled her breath. She’d never been at liberty to simply speak to a gentleman, decide if she actually enjoyed his company. God forbid. No, she’d been pointed in the direction of the most eligible man in any room and told to use her looks and manners to entice him. Her entire life, all anyone ever said to her was how pretty she was. All anyone ever thought she wanted to talk about was what sort of a match she would make once she came of age.
When she’d met Rhys, yes, he’d been the most eligible man in the room. He was powerful and titled and handsome, but she’d actually enjoyed his company. She’d actually believed for one short, sweet bit of time that she’d found love in addition to fulfilling her duty.
That’s what had made his betrayal all the more painful to bear. She’d been foolishly falling in love with him, while he’d merely been playing a game with her. The same game he no doubt played with every Season’s crop of debutantes. The man was cruel, pure and simple.
Julianna stopped pushing the goose around the plate and set down her fork and knife. She no longer had it in her to pretend she was hungry. Her lack of appetite had little to do with her dinner companions and everything to do with the fact that she would be confronting Worthington again tomorrow and was certain to come away the winner.
A smile curled her lips as she allowed a footman to remove her still-full plate. She glanced up just as the footman pulled the plate to his chest.
Wait just a moment! Was that the Earl of Kendall dressed as a footman?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Was she coming? Rhys kicked at the dirt near the fence with his boot and paced back and forth for the dozenth time. If so, she was certainly taking her time. He should have known better than to trust Julianna Montgomery. Why, for all he knew, she was back in the house regaling all the other young ladies with the scandalous news that the Duke of Worthington was out in the stables, pretending to be a groomsman.
After a fitful night’s sleep, Rhys had spoken to Clayton this morning in the library when he’d met all his friends to discuss their first day as servants. Clayton had given him some excuse about not knowing until the last minute that the Duchess of Montlake and her daughter Mary were bringing Julianna with them. Rhys supposed that stood to reason.
Still pacing, he slapped his gloves against his leg so hard he was certain it would leave a welt.
Damn it. If she didn’t arrive, he would be forced to face his friends and the fact that he lost the bet due to ill-timing and an unfortunate last-minute addition to the guest list.
The sound of galloping caught his attention and he swiveled to see Julianna riding hell-for-leather across the meadow toward him. Her cheeks were red with her effort and she had an enormous smile on her face. Still clutching his gloves in his fist, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her as she approached. No doubt she was looking forward to telling him she’d already sounded the alarm.
She came to a stop near him, dismounted quickly and effortlessly, and threw him the reins.
“You’re the groomsman, aren’t you?” she asked with a coy smile when he gave her a surprised look in reply.
Rhys took the reins and tied the horse to the fence near his own mount. Then he crossed his arms over his chest again and stared down his nose at her. “Well?”
“Well, what?” She stared right back at him. Today she was wearing a sapphire blue riding habit and had a perfectly unrepentant look of delight on her face. “I thought I came here for you to tell me what you’d decided.”
Rhys frowned. “What I decided about what?”
She pursed her lips. “Oh, come now, you’re older than I am, but you’re notthatold. You told me yesterday you needed to decide whether you’re willing to tell me the truth.”
“First of all, you’re right, I’mnotthat old, and secondly, I don’t think I have much choice other than to tell you the truth. You said you don’t want money. Have you changed your mind?”
