“Ah. It must be a love match, then. How romantic.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Logan Blair was no longer amused. His infuriating smile had fled, and he regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Your father wants you to become a duchess, doesn’t he, Lady Juliana?”
Juliana’s eyebrows rose. She hadn’t any idea how Mr. Blair could know what her father wanted, but she didn’t deny it was true. Her father had always dreamed she’d become the Duchess of Blackmore someday.
“I’m not a duke, or even a laird.” He took a casual sip from his glass, studying her over the rim. “If he won’t accept anything less than a title, then we can end this right now.”
Juliana shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Not only did her father want a duke, he wanted Fitzwilliam. He hadn’t mentioned title or fortune in his will, because he took it as a matter of course she’d become Fitzwilliam’s duchess. She wasn’t certain how he’d react when he discovered he’d have to make do with a duke’s brother instead, but she didn’t intend to reveal this to Logan Blair. He didn’t need to know about all the lies she’d told. “He hasn’t made any demands of that sort, no.”
He eyed her, dangling his glass between long, surprisingly elegant fingers. “What of you, my lady? Are you determined to become a duchess?”
Juliana let out a short laugh. “I’ve never cared much about titles.”
He studied her face, his blue eyes calculating. “Is that so? Yet your other suitor was a marquess.”
She shrugged. “Lord Pierce is a dear friend.”
“A friend who also happens to be a marquess, and another friend who happens to be a duke. You have quite a few aristocratic friends, my lady.”
Juliana’s chin rose. “Lord Pierce is Grace’s uncle on her mother’s side, Mr. Blair. He’s as concerned with her welfare as I am. A marriage between us made sense.”
He laughed softly. “He couldn’t have been all that concerned. He went off and married another lady, didn’t he?”
She smiled coldly. “Yes, well, I confess it would be easier if my betrotheds would stop falling in love with other ladies. It puts me in a dreadful position.”
“I see that. Explain something to me, Lady Juliana. How is it yourdear friendLord Pierce allowed you to jilt him in the first place, given your niece’s dire circumstances?”
“Well, as to that…” Juliana trailed off, her face heating. She’d lied to Hugh, too, and now all her lies were catching up to her with a vengeance.
“Shame on you, Lady Juliana,” Mr. Blair murmured. “Lord Pierce thinks you’re on the verge of marrying Fitz as well, doesn’t he? You’ve told dozens of lies, and now you’ve made it worse by scampering off to Scotland without telling your father where you’ve gone. So deceptive, behind that pretty face.”
“Yes, well, looks are deceiving, are they not? I wouldn’t have guessed you were a thief, but there is the troublesome matter of my letters.”
She half-expected him to fall into a rage, but to her surprise, a smile crossed his lips. “Another reason why a marriage between us would be madness. You can’t wish to marry a thief.”
Madness indeed, yet it was Juliana’s only option, just the same. It was a pity her old governess Mrs. Crampton wasn’t alive to see her lies return to haunt her. The old woman would have been thrilled Juliana had received her just desserts.
She studied the toe of her ruined boot. “Oh, I don’t know, Mr. Blair. There’s a certain symmetry to a liar marrying a thief, don’t you agree? Perhaps we deserve each other.”
He dragged a finger slowly around the top edge of his empty glass. “Is that why you let Lord Pierce go? Because you believe he deserves better than you?”
His blue gaze narrowed on her face with such intensity, Juliana looked away. Instead she watched his finger slowly trace the rim of his glass.
Around and around…
“Lady Juliana? What made you decide to free Lord Pierce, when you knew your niece’s future was at stake?”
She jerked her gaze back to his face. “I released Lord Pierce from our betrothal because I believed he deserved to marry the lady he loves.”
“But you don’t believe your dear friend Fitzwilliam—the man you claim to care so much for—deserves the same?”
“On the contrary. I believe it wholeheartedly.”Juliana wished for Fitz’s happiness as fiercely as she wished for Grace’s, or for her own. To force him into a marriage would break her heart. The only difference between Hugh and Fitz was that this time she didn’t have any choice.
Mr. Blair leaned forward and dropped his glass onto the table. “Come now, lass. You could have said all of this in front of Fitz. You sent him away so we could both speak plainly, so let’s have it out. I’m refusing the offer of your hand. What do you intend to do about it?”
Juliana’s heart began to pound, and she drew in a deep breath to calm it. Logan Blair wasn’t the sort of man one liked to threaten, but she didn’t have a choice. “If you refuse to agree to a marriage between us, I’ll accept Fitzwilliam’s offer to marry me, regardless of his betrothal.”
They were some of the ugliest words she’d ever uttered. Even as they left her lips, Juliana shuddered at the thought of following through with her threat. She’d given Hugh his freedom because she cared for him, and she couldn’t bear to be the reason he was kept apart from the lady he loved. Would she do less for Fitzwilliam? He was her oldest, dearest friend, the person she’d run to as a child to soothe her bruised knees, and later, when her girlish infatuations ended in disappointment, her bruised heart.
