The fledgling hopes that had just begun to gather scattered like leaves in a sharp gust of wind. Audrey slumped back in herchair in numb despair. She supposed it was a resolution but, just for a moment, she had thought that maybe he was inviting her to be his partner. Perhaps all along she had hoped he would fall in love with her, but dared not think about it lest she raised her hopes. The unsuspected disappointment was ashes threatening to choke her.
Lud, it was a mistake to not discuss this last night.
If she had, perhaps she could have kept her wits about her instead of having the man she loved witness this mortifying display of emotion. This was not the pragmatic character she strived for as a practitioner of medicine.
Audrey swallowed hard, dabbing her face with a napkin from the table, pausing until she was sure her words would be steady.
“So … not a real marriage?”
“That is correct.”
Julius knew he was an awful cad, but he had resolved to make his offer thus, so he was going to stick to his decision. He could not offer more. Marriage was the death of regard. It trapped wonderful people like his mother in a cage. It made children miserable and turned fathers into distant strangers.
He would not become his father. He would not make Audrey despise him. They would wed, then remain apart. Once she was settled in Stirling, pursuing her dreams as a healer, Julius could recover his peace of mind.
“So we are to wed and … what? You will remain in London?”
Julius did not like the dull quality of Audrey’s sweet voice. It made him feel like a dog. But he was one for not settling this with her the previous night. The sight of her devastation brought on by Lady Astley’s foul attack had wrenched his very heart from hischest. He had, in fact, found himself examining his ribs as if to seek confirmation that they were yet intact and pressing around his sutures to ensure they, too, were still in place.
“Yes. You will be free to follow your dreams. I venture that being a married woman will make it easier to be accepted by the villagers as a healer.”
Audrey’s face was grim, her silver eyes clouded as she stared at him. Julius felt terribly uncomfortable.
“I do not wish to inconvenience you so. It is not your responsibility,” she finally replied.
Laying her hand back onto the table, he rose to his feet. “I have no plans to marry, so this is not a hardship, I assure you. You can continue your life the way you had planned.”
She did not appear to be convinced, her face remaining set in unhappy lines. He tried to think what to say, but she beat him to it.
“Julius, it is unnecessary. My father left me an income. I shall leave England. Perhaps I can move to Paris, even make up a dead husband.”
Paris? What was with the women in his life? What was their obsession with living in France! It was a conspiracy to keep him at bay, as if they somehow knew he could not tolerate the vigors of sea travel and it was their assurance they need never tolerate his presence again.
“No!” Hearing his terse tone, Julius grimaced. He was considered charming, unflappable even. Since setting off with Audrey last week, he appeared to have misplaced his very character. “I wish to do this. As a married woman, you will have your independence. You shall never want for funds. As my wife, you will be a future countess. None dare disrespect you. Even vile Lady Astley will be forced to retract her claims to the vicar when word is out that we are wed. I … want to do this, Audrey.”
Audrey turned away to contemplate her fingernails. “So you wish to wed me … but you do not wish to be my husband.”
Gadzooks, that sounds terrible!
But it was true. He was a childish clot who resisted maturity. Any of his friends would concur without hesitation.
“Yes.”
Audrey flexed her jaw as if she had been punched. But, even if it was difficult, Julius was determined to be forthright. He liked Audrey far too much to manipulate her.
“What of … bedding? Do you plan to … bed other women?”
It seemed unlikely, considering he could not stop thinking of her in his bed, but … “I do not know. I would discuss it with you if I wish to alter the terms of our agreement.”
Audrey’s face grew grimmer.
“The … terms of our agreement.” She stated it out loud, as if exploring the words.
Julius grew nervous. She was going to turn him down. For some reason he could not quite name, it was imperative she agree to the marriage. The notion of her leaving England to get away from the scandal was inconceivable. It was—he sought for a reason—his duty to protect her. She would be safer if she remained here, he reasoned. Her goals would be attainable. She could pursue her dreams and remain in the village where she had been born, surrounded by friends who admired her and her father. Lord Snarling could keep her under his protection, so no harm would ever befall her. Travel was rife with risks.
Therefore, he had to persuade her that this was her best option. He had the sense that she was going to refuse him, and he found himself rather invested in the outcome because … because … What explanation could there be? Because she had saved his life and it was his duty to keep her safe?
“Perhaps … a babe would be possible?”
