Page 58 of The New Earl’s Convenient Wife

Chapter Seventeen

At some point, she must have dozed off, for when Juliana awoke with a start the next morning, faint grey London light showed from behind the bedchamber curtains.

And Rafe was no longer in bed beside her.

As that realization crystallized, her dread deepened. Only a handful of times, when they were at Thornthwaite and he had to meet Sterling very early in the morning, had he left their bed without making love to her. Indeed, he always told her, as they lay in the pleasant warmth afterwards, that early morning intimacy was the best possible start to his day, making him feel optimistic and full of energy to meet whatever the day might bring.

Juliana felt a hollow in the pit of her stomach about what this day might bring.

But if she wanted to replace dread with certainty, she needed to see him before he left for whatever appointments he had for the day—which, had she not feigned sleep when he returned, she might already know about.

She was already half-dressed when Baxter answered her summons.

‘Is his lordship still in the breakfast room?’

‘I believe so, my lady.’

Relieved, Juliana rushed through her toilet in record time, and ten minutes later, breathless from her rapid descent of the stairs, paused on the threshold. Her first sense of relief since the events of the previous evening steadied her as she spied Rafe still at table, the paper to one side as he drank his coffee.

‘Juliana!’ he said, standing as she entered. ‘I didn’t want to wake you. I hope you are feeling better.’

Was his smile a bit strained? Trying not to let anxiety make her see things that weren’t there, she said, ‘Much improved. It was just…a sudden headache.’ Heartache, more like. ‘All the noise, the heat, the…throng of guests.’ One in particular…

‘I’m so glad you are feeling better. I was concerned, for you are never ill! You didn’t encounter anyone who was…unkind or unwelcoming, did you?’

I didn’t encounter her. ‘No, nothing of that sort.’

‘Good, good,’ he said, pulling out a chair for her.

Silence fell while she put some food on her plate that she knew she’d never manage to get past her lips. ‘Did you stay long after I left?’

‘No, I left as soon as I discovered you’d felt unwell.’

‘Did your Parliamentary discussions go well?’

‘Some were quite thought-provoking. I actually slipped away to the library for a while, to think over several factors in one of the upcoming bills. Which is why Claire didn’t find me to let me know you were ill and wished to leave. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to take care of you.’

‘Anyone else bedevilling you aside from Winston and Claiburn?’

His smile was thin and he looked away, not meeting her eyes. ‘Don’t worry. I can handle them. I’m sorry to rush off when we’ve hardly had time to chat properly, but I’ve got an early-morning meeting. I hope you have a pleasant day.’

He rose, dropped a kiss on her head, and walked quickly out of the room.

Juliana stared at her coffee cup, pushing away with revulsion the plate of food she’d selected. She knew if she tried to force it down, she wouldn’t retain a morsel.

Rafe waited for the hackney, chastising himself for having wasted that opportunity for a conversation. He’d had every intention of bringing up his meeting with Thalia; he’d have to soon in any event, as dozens of people had seen them together, some of whom might remember the long-ago affair, and he didn’t want someone else telling Juliana about the encounter before he did.

But he wasn’t feeling much more settled this morning than he’d been last night and had thought he would escape the house before Juliana was awake. Not yet prepared, he knew if they had more than a brief conversation, Juliana would sense something had upset him. Seeing her dear face, knowing how insecure she was in her appeal as a woman, he worried that broaching the matter before he was completely in control of himself would distress her, perhaps even make her doubt the depth of his commitment to her, even if he produced a fine speech of support.

She was too well aware that words and promises are easy.

He’d have that conversation tonight. He’d be master of himself again by then.

But his visit to the club dragged out late, as he met some army comrades newly returned from the Continent and had been eager to hear the latest news. Caught up in discussion and camaraderie, he’d lost all track of time. By the time the gentleman began discussing plans for dinner and he looked at the clock, he had only time to rush back to Thornthwaite House and dress for his evening engagement—which was a dinner party of Parliamentary gentlemen to be followed by actual discussions about the matters he’d referred to with Juliana yesterday.

He had only a few minutes to look in on Juliana in her dressing room; she and Claire were to attend a musicale while he and Hart attended the conference.

‘So sorry to abandon you all day, Mouse! Some officers from the Tenth Hussars showed up at the club and we became so embroiled in army talk, I lost all track of time. I shall make it up to you, I promise! You and Claire will doubtless enjoy the music more than Hart and I will all the endless discussions. It always seems the most tedious of the members wants to speak the longest.’