Their night in the garden—she’d fallen in love with Julian that night, and despite what they’d become, despite the anger and resentment between them, she’d cupped that memory in her palms, held on to the magic of that night as precious, as a moment she could look back upon as one thing, amidst all her mistakes, she’d done right.
Even after all that happened afterwards, she’d never regretted that night.
Until now.
In a few cruel words he’d made it ugly, tawdry, reduced it to nothing more than a careless grope in a dark garden between two people who should have known better. For him, perhaps that was all it had been, or perhaps despite what it had once meant to him, that was all it was now. The present had a way of tarnishing the past, changing it, just as the past had a way of destroying the future.
“This ends here, Julian.” Her voice was a whisper. “Whatever promise you’ve made my family, break it. Leave my friends alone. Leave me alone.”
A long, fraught silence fell. “If I refuse? What then, Lady Hadley?”
“As of last night, you no longer have a choice.”
He didn’t ask her what she meant. He might have—he might have said any number of things, done any number of things, but perhaps he could see it was futile. He fell back against the squabs, and though he didn’t speak a word he continued to watch her, his dark eyes filled with some emotion she hadn’t seen in them before. Was it regret?
You no longer have a choice.
Had her words been for him, or for herself? She didn’t know, but it made no difference. He didn’t have a choice, and neither did she. Not anymore. Weeks ago Devon had made her an offer. Last night she’d made her choice, and that choice put her out of Julian’s reach for good.
Regret.What a useless emotion. No matter how much one might wish to, one couldn’t change the past.
Charlotte closed her eyes again.
One couldn’t even change the present.
Chapter Fourteen
Lady Chase’s guests flitted around Julian in a confusing wash of colors and chatter while he remained frozen in their midst, the argument he’d had with Charlotte echoing over and over again in his head until his chest was so tight he could hardly draw a breath.
Perhaps it will work out better for Devon than it did for me… Your heart must be encased in ice…
Her face, when he’d said it.Her eyes.
He scanned the guests crowded onto Lady Chase’s lawn, looking for the mauve colored gown Charlotte wore today. There, on the edge of the terrace, speaking with Iris Somerset. Charlotte was composed, smiling. He didn’t see any trace of the ugly scene in the carriage on her face. Watching her now, he could almost believe it hadn’t happened.
What else did she hide beneath her careful smiles? Her flirtations, her brittle laughter, and her callous disregard for her family—it all rang false now.
“Afternoon, West. Didn’t expect to see you here today. Warm day for a picnic, what?”
Julian tore his attention away from Charlotte and turned toward the young gentleman at his elbow. Lord…lord… Ah, yes, he had it now. Lord Findlay. “Good afternoon, Findlay. Yes, it is rather warm.”
A young lady with pale, fluffy blond hair stood next to Findlay, her face flushed with suppressed excitement. She nudged Findlay in the ribs. He looked down at her in surprise, as if he’d forgotten her, then sputtered into an introduction. “Right. Captain West, may I present my sister, Miss Lydia Fowler?”
Fowler.How appropriate. She looked like a baby chick struggling to burst from its shell. “Miss Fowler, it’s a pleasure.” Julian bowed over her hand.
“Oh, Captain West.” The girl’s face flushed a deeper pink; then she blurted, “Do tell me all about your heroics on the battlefield.”
“For God’s sake, Lydia,” her brother muttered in disgust.
“What?” The girl blinked in confusion, her feathery blond lashes coming down over wide blue eyes. “What have I said?”
Julian forced a polite smile. “There’s nothing to tell, Miss Fowler. I’m afraid the stories have been greatly exaggerated.”
“Oh, but I’m sure that’s not true, Captain, though your modesty does you credit.” She clasped her hands together at her breast and gazed up at him expectantly.
“You flatter me, Miss Fowler, but I’m afraid I can’t accommodate you.”
“But—”
