“Where were you, Julianna?” Mama asked after Julianna was safely dressed in her nightrail and snuggled under the covers in her bed.
Mary sat by her bedside, silently holding her hand.
“I took one of the Arabians out for a ride,” Julianna explained.
“In the middle of a storm?” Mama shook her head, the worried expression still on her face.
“It wasn’t storming when I left, but I am terribly sorry I worried you, Mama,” Julianna replied.
Her mother didn’t ask why she hadn’t been wet when she returned, and Julianna had no intention of telling either her mother or her dear younger sister the details. No. She’d already decided on the long, silent ride back to the stables. Her afternoon with Rhys and what had transpired between them would go with her to her grave.
Today, shefinallyrealized she had no future with Rhys. He’d made it clear that he would not be a party to her breaking things off with Murdock. And if Rhys didn’t love her enough to stand up on a proverbial sideboard for her, did she evenwantto spend the rest of her life with him?
She’d been tempted, so blessed tempted, to blurt out that she loved him. She knew she loved him. Knew it deep down, but she refused to be the one to lay her heart on a chopping block again. What if she’d told him and he’d still refused her? She couldn’t live with that the rest of her days. Another mistake with Rhys might prove fatal to her heart.
Besides, if he couldn’t say it, neither would she. Those moments they’d stared into each other’s eyes, both searching for the truth. If he truly loved her, he would have been able to admit it. Like Lord Kendall did with Frances Wharton. And Rhys hadn’t.
In addition to his other sins, Rhys clearly didn’t even love her enough to face damage to his or her reputation, regardless of how insignificant it might be. Lord knew thetonwould be talking about Kendall and Miss Wharton’s scandal far longer than if she cried off from Murdock to marry a man she’d courted before.
But Julianna knew now that her engagement to Murdock was merely an excuse Rhys was using, because once again, he didn’t want to tell her the truth. And the truth was that he didn’t actually love her.
She’d made a mistake involving herself with him again during the house party. She’d told herself that she’d only done it in order to get him to lose his bet. But now she realized that all she’d done was play with fire and burn herself. She didn’t give a care about the bet any longer. It didn’t matter if he won or lost. All she cared about was getting away from here, away from him, and protecting her heart once more.
“I want you to rest now, dear,” Mama said, interrupting Julianna’s thoughts. “Get some sleep. Don’t worry about dinner tonight. We’ll have it brought up again. Lord Murdock has been asking after you. I’ll send word that you’re safe.”
Julianna weakly nodded. The mention of Lord Murdock reminded her of something else she needed to say. “Mama,” she called. “I want to leave tomorrow. To go back to London, if you and Mary have no objections.” There were five more days left to the house party, but Julianna couldn’t stay.
Mary gave her a sympathetic look and nodded.
“It’s probably for the best, dear,” Mama replied, also nodding. “You’ll want to rest more, and home may be the best place to do it. Your father will be happy to see you.”
Her mother was about to step out the door when Julianna called out to her again, “Mama?”
Her mother paused in the doorway. “Yes, dear?”
“Lord Murdock told me he wants to move up the wedding date. He’s written to Papa. When Papa receives the letter, you may tell him it’s fine with me.”
Mary’s gaze snapped to her face, her eyes wide with confusion and concern. Julianna gave her sister an encouraging nod.
“I don’t see how we’ll be able to plan such a large wedding any sooner, dear,” Mama replied, sighing, “but I’ll speak to your father about it.”
“Thank you, Mama. We can always make it smaller.”
Her mother left then, and Julianna sat in silence holding Mary’s hand. What did it matter whether the wedding was next month or next year? Julianna was selling herself to the highest bidder. Love had no part of it. She might as well get it over with.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The next morning, Rhys helped the other stablehands put her coach to, but he couldn’t bring himself to watch Julianna go. At least not from the front of the stables like the rest of the chaps. Instead, he was in the barn, watching silently from a window as the footmen loaded her trunks and helped her up into the carriage. She was going back to London escorted by her own coachman, footmen, and lady’s maid. Apparently, her mother and Mary were staying till the end of the house party.
Rhys watched the coach pull away and turn down the gravel path toward the road leading out of the estate. Letting her go yesterday had been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. It had physically hurt. But for perhaps the first time in his life, he’d done the right thing. The noble thing. The selfless thing. Oh, he’d thought he was doing the right thing when he’d written her that blasted letter. But this was something different altogether. He would not have another chance. She was leaving his life forever.
Rhys swallowed hard. Julianna was no longer his. She hadn’t been for months, and it was his fault. He’d been the one who had pushed her away. He’d been the one who had assumed the worst of her. And he’d be the one to suffer the consequences. A life without her.
She’d asked him if he loved her. He didn’t think he knew what love meant. But if this aching pit in his belly—this feeling as if all of the happiness and joy had been sucked out of his life—meant that he loved her, then he did. He’d been a coward. He hadn’t been able to tell her. It wasn’t his right. After the mistakes he’d made, he had no business ruining her engagement by declaring his love. Her father already detested him. She told him herself that Montlake wouldn’t allow her to cry off, and even if she tried, Rhys couldn’t imagine Montlake suddenly consenting totheirmarriage.
No. It was better for Julianna this way even though the wordsI love youhad been on the tip of Rhys’s tongue. He’dwantedto say them, he truly had, but how could he? How could he tell her he loved her, knowing she’d still have to marry Murdock? Nothing could be more selfish.
Rhys watched until her coach disappeared into the distance. Then he leaned his head against the window frame and uttered a curse so loud it shook the beam above his head.
