Chapter Twenty-Five
Julia followed on Gregory’s arm into the ballroom. The majordomo stopped them at the top of the stairs and loudly announced the Duke and Duchess of Ashworth to the assembly. As she descended into the party, Julia felt every eye upon her. Her skin itched with the sensation.
She couldn’t immediately tell who was who in the costumed crowd, which should have been a comfort. After all, Julia could pretend she was surrounded by knights and princesses, fauns and nymphs, and she could imagine that these fantastical creatures were as pure-hearted as they would be in a storybook.
Only upon closer inspection did one realize that the seemingly harmless woodcutter was a terrible old baron, or that the milkmaid was actually a dowager countess renowned for the strength of her spite.
Well. Bugger them all. Tonight, Julia had to keep a watch out for Susannah.
“Have you seen my stepsister?” she asked Gregory as they parted the sea of watchful nobility.
“Er, difficult question when everyone’s dressed up. Do you know what costume she’s supposed to be wearing?”
“Yes. She’s the Sleeping Beauty tonight.”
Susannah’s gown was another of Mrs. Maxwell’s creations, a pale golden silk meant to evoke the dawn. Well, as the princess Aurora, it only made sense. Julia scanned the crowds, hoping to spot Susannah, but she was consistently thwarted by the partygoers.
“Ah, if it isn’t Cinderella and her prince?” The Viscount Carlisle, dressed as a satyr in false horns and rather furry trousers, bowed to them. He smiled especially at Julia. “May I have the honor of a dance, Your Grace?”
“Of course.” Julia wore her smile like a mask while she kept watch for Susannah. The viscount took her away from Gregory, escorting her to the center of the floor. Julia heard whispers from every direction as she went through the motions of the quadrille; every person had noticed her, and everyone was talking in hushed excitement.
Julia wished she could laugh with Gregory about all of this. He was the perfect partner in any conspiracy. The thought of tomorrow morning and the emptiness he’d leave behind him was a fist in the pit of her stomach.
All she had was this one last night. She didn’t want to spend it dancing with the viscount or worrying over Susannah.
But that second one had to be her foremost priority. When the dance ended, Julia finally caught sight of a familiar flash of copper curls.
She asked the viscount to escort her in that direction and made her way to the side of the ballroom as carefully as possible.
“Susannah!” Finally, Julia arrived at her stepsister’s side. Susannah wore a false smile as perfect as Julia’s own, but the girl’s eyes were tight and terrified.
“Ah. Your Grace,” Lucas Campbell said, sketching Julia a bow. “Pleasure to see you again.”
Julia’s entire body tensed as she faced the odious man. He was dressed well in a suit of midnight blue, a short, black velvet cape slung over his shoulder. Though anyone would consider him handsome, Julia now thought him the ugliest man of her acquaintance. How strange that ten years ago, he had enthralled her. His voice had sounded so musical to her ear. Now, it set her teeth on edge.
“Indeed, Mr. Campbell. It is a pleasure for you.” Julia glared him down. “I hope you won’t mind if I take my stepsister elsewhere. I’ve much I need to discuss with her.”
“Yes. I should go. Lovely seeing you again, sir.” Susannah’s voice practically quavered with gratitude for her rescue. Julia gave her stepsister’s hand a squeeze.
“I certainly hope I may count on you for that waltz, Miss Fletcher.” The man gave a confident smile, assuring the women that he heard the discomfort in Susannah’s tone and did not care a whit. He would pursue her regardless of her own desires. If Julia had been a man, she’d have taken someone’s toy sword and beaten him over the head with it.
“We shall have to see, won’t we?” Julia looped her arm through her stepsister’s and walked Susannah away. She could have laughed with relief; in some way, she’d feared Campbell would try abducting Susannah, throwing her in a sack and hurrying off to Gretna Green while the unsuspecting ball continued apace. “Lady Weatherford told me about your little problem.”
“Julia, he won’t leave me alone! I don’t know what to do.” Susannah’s lip quivered, but she remained strong. Brave girl. “I remember what he did to you. I’d slap his face if I could.”
“Ah, but society would never accept such a thing,” Julia muttered. Only men were allowed to show their emotions in such a way, or to defend family honor. Women were allowed to cry, but anger was strictly forbidden. “We’re almost away from him. It’s the last ball of the Season. Stay close to me or to Ashworth for the rest of the evening, and all should be well. I’m sorry, though, for your loss of liberty. I wish you could enjoy tonight properly. Still, you must have made enough conquests.” Come to think of it, Julia was surprised that Susannah hadn’t received any marriage proposals yet. Constance surely would have crowed about them.
“Mamma insists that Ashworth must introduce me to the Duke of Huntington.” Susannah rolled her eyes, an unusual action for her. Typically, she never openly disregarded anything that Constance said; she was far too polite a daughter. “It doesn’t matter if the duke likes me or not. I’m not about to marry this year, I’ve made up my mind to it. Mamma thought I was wise to turn down Lord Cheltham’s proposal, but only because she believes I’m angling for a superior offer.”
“I beg pardon?” Julia almost tripped over her own glass slippers. When she had been Susannah’s age, she’d have committed murder for a proposal from an eligible baron. Anything to get her away from Constance. “You turned down his proposal?”
“I’m not in love with him. I refuse to marry without any kind of love. Besides…” Susannah fidgeted with her dance card as Julia secured them a spot by the side of the room.
“Besides what, darling?”
“Besides, I’m not certain I wish to marry a member of the ton.”
Susannah said it with prim force, and it almost knocked Julia back. Women all over England would do anything to take Susannah’s place—to be beautiful, young, and wealthy enough to attract a man with a title and estate. Dash it all, Julia herself would have happily traded spots with her stepsister a few months earlier. Even if that meant being related to Constance by blood.
“Oh.” That was all Julia could think to say.
“All anyone here wishes to discuss is the weather, money, or one another. They think of music as something to listen to politely after dinner. There’s no passion in any of them.”
Julia had never heard her stepsister speak so forcefully before.
“Well, the pianoforte is a desirable skill for a young lady,” she said.
“But I don’t want to merely play as a diversion. There are conservatories on the Continent I could attend if I’d the freedom to do so.”
Susannah’s point was obvious: if she remained unmarried.
“You truly don’t want to marry, do you?” Julia felt amazed. How could she not have known this about Susannah?
“Not now. Not before I’ve tried for something more with my life.” Susannah sighed deeply. “But Mamma would faint if she heard me speak this way.”
Of course Susannah’s dream wasn’t the same as Julia’s. They were entirely different women, after all, but that didn’t make the girl’s desire any less worthy than Julia’s had been.
“Let’s get through tonight, and then we can discuss these conservatories. Do they even allow women?” Julia asked.
“Some do. There’s one in Vienna, I believe.” Susannah squeezed Julia’s hand. “Oh, do you mean that? Would you take my side against Mamma?”
“Darling, you must know me well enough to realize I’d do almost anything to get a rise out of Constance.”
Susannah laughed. “Tell me the truth. Do you think it would be a horrible mistake, giving up the certainty of marriage?”
“For me, it’s the oddest thing in the world. But you aren’t me, dearest, which is one of the reasons I like you so much.” Julia patted her stepsister’s arm.
“But you like being married, don’t you?”
These last few weeks had been among the happiest of Julia’s life. Even all the sadness of parting from Gregory didn’t change that fact.
“It depends on the person, I suppose. If I’d married Lord Cheltham, I believe my life would be quite different today.” Julia glanced across the ballroom at the rest of “good” society and realized how damnably bored she was of all of them. “I’d rather you risk never marrying if it means finding the life that makes you truly happy. Marriage itself is as risky as any other proposition.”
“Thank you, Julia.”
Susannah looked soft with relief when a handsome young man came over to ask her for a dance. Julia watched the girl sail around the ballroom floor, attracting admiring eyes from every direction.
How strange life could be. A few months ago, she’d have told Susannah she was a fool to give up security in favor of the potential for happiness. Now, Julia knew better. She herself had married for safety, and she had found herself in the most wretched place imaginable: painfully in love with a man who could not love her in return. In many ways, life as a spinster had been safer than this.
It was far better to always wonder what you were missing. Having it and then losing it was the worst pain of all.
“I doubt Susannah will vanish if you take your eyes off of her.”
Julia suppressed a shiver of longing as Gregory stopped at her side.
“When it comes to men, I think it’s always better to remain vigilant.”
“We’re men, my dear, not lions on the savannah.”
“Oh, I think it an apt metaphor. After all, I’ve read that male lions prefer to laze about all day while the lionesses do the hunting.”
“Yes, but male lions have those impeccable manes to look after. You can’t blame a man for being fastidious about his grooming.”
She did love trading light verbal blows with him, as she loved being in his arms and underneath him in bed. The thought of his naked skin pressed against hers sent a spike of deep desire rippling throughout her body. Julia wished the night would never end; that way, he would always be with her.
“We seem to be playing our parts to perfection.” Her husband regarded the rest of the ballroom with a satisfied eye. “The idle gossip has all but disappeared.”
“I believe a dance should eradicate the last traces of scandal,” Julia said.
“Is it not rather uncouth for a man to dance with his own wife?” Gregory made a mockery of sounding appalled.
“Only if he’s in love with her.”
Julia wasn’t sure how that blurted out of her mouth, but she waited in frozen horror to see Gregory’s reaction.
“Yes. That would be a pretty story, wouldn’t it?” he said quietly.
Julia wrestled down her disappointment, trying to ignore the brief sting of tears. She’d told herself this same thing over and over, that he did not feel the same as she. He liked her, as he liked making love to her, but passion was not the same thing as romance or affection. She must not start blubbering now. Honestly, of all the things to weep over.
“Then let’s give this story a thoroughly happy ending, shall we?” she asked as the music finished and the dancers applauded. “I believe the waltz is next.”
Gregory did not speak, merely offered his hand and took hers. Julia’s mention of love had pretty neatly killed the cheerful mood between them. Her own damn fault, that. Her husband escorted her to the floor, whispers trailing after them as the entire ton watched with rapt attention.
Julia realized with some shock that they had never waltzed together before. Gregory was a splendid dancer, but he did not enjoy it much. Their dances in full view of society were rare indeed, so this would prove a delicious treat for all assembled.
For Julia as well.
The music played, and Gregory swept her about the room with the utmost masculine ease and grace. Julia had never felt as light as when her husband guided her in a waltz, just as she had never felt so desirable as when his eyes were upon her face. Indeed, as they turned in time to the lilting music, she felt the intense heat of his fixation upon her.
“You’re staring, Your Grace.”
“I’m hardly alone in that. Every other man in this room is spellbound by you.” He held her as close against him as he might dare in public. Julia’s heart quickened with his nearness.
“We need to discuss our next steps. Now that you’re not sailing for Spain tomorrow, that is.”
“I’ve already arranged it with Peele,” he said. “You shall be leaving tomorrow morning for Lynton Park.”
“Oh.” She was stunned by the simple declaration. “Won’t that attract attention as well?”
“It’s quite simple, really. You leave to oversee the estate while I remain in town a few extra days, seeing to our affairs. I’ll leave early next week, ostensibly headed for home.”
“Ah. But in secret you’ll be off on your own journey.” Julia found she didn’t wish to be held quite so tightly any longer.
“It accomplishes what we need. Your leaving immediately after the Season to see to our estate is only to be expected. No one will pay attention to what I do once I’ve left London. Finally, we can put this whole charade behind us.”
Julia had wanted to believe that there was a secret reason for her husband’s pulling away. That some undiscovered pain had erupted, driving a wedge between them. That most of all, she could coax him toward her with enough time and energy.
But she saw now the idiocy of her own beliefs. From the first moment to the last, Gregory had seen their marriage as a charade, a ruse, as something useful. He’d enjoyed her, but had not wanted to risk the pain that a longer association would inevitably bring him. Their union had never been anything more to him; Julia herself had been the fool for creating this fantasy.
She’d allowed herself to believe the fairy tale was real.
“I’m starting to wish you’d been on your way directly after our union at Lynton Park.” She wished she could simply walk away from him in the middle of the dance, but they were trapped in this ridiculous position until the musicians had finished. She was trapped looking like a fool to him, and most of all to herself. How could she have been such a bloody idiot? “Then you’d have been safely on the Continent, and we would never have needed to continue this farce in front of all London.”
“Forgive me for being honest, my dear.” There was no mockery in his voice or expression; rather, Gregory appeared exhausted by the recent events. “But I thought you the type of woman who appreciated honesty.”
I thought so, too, would be a foolish thing to say, so she bit her tongue. Finally, mercifully, the dance was over. Julia remained calm as her husband escorted her back to the side of the room. The instant it was permissible, she walked away from him.
“Julia. Wait.”
He had her by the wrist, and she turned into him. They could not cause a scene here.
“I need some air,” she whispered. “Alone.”
This time, he didn’t pursue her. Julia walked leisurely until she exited onto the terrace. Thank God she was alone here, with the rest of the partygoers chattering away inside the ballroom. Julia stood before the stone railing and turned her face to the moonlight. She sucked in deep lungfuls of breath, trying to get her reeling thoughts into order.
Julia shut her eyes and fought against the urge to wail, or scream, or go back inside and kick someone in the shin. Preferably either Campbell or her husband. Julia was not a terribly choosy person.
She hung her head, the grief starting to gnaw at her. She had to let him go, then. There was no other way. She’d clung to the hope that this misalignment between them was down to a stubborn misunderstanding, but Julia realized that no misunderstanding had ever existed. The truth was plain, and always had been.
He didn’t want her the way she needed him, and it tore her apart inside.
Julia was so entwined in her own misery, she scarcely noticed movement in the garden below. At first she thought it some ill-advised lovers playing with ruin before the eyes of all society. As she turned to go back inside, she heard a soft voice say one word:
“No.”
Julia froze and looked back as the woman who’d spoken vanished into a hedge maze, a tall man in quick pursuit.
Julia recognized the man at once, and she would have known the woman’s voice even if she hadn’t spied the golden gown.
Lucas Campbell was in hot pursuit of Susannah.