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His threat, however, had the opposite effect on his betrothed. She stood tall and looked him straight in the eyes with a glint of challenge.
“Oh, don’t you know?” she sneered back at him. “You just might have to do that after all.” She laughed loudly, without humor. “In fact, my sister is currently residing in the York asylum,” she said with disgust shining in her eyes.
Robert stiffened.Insanity runs in her family.He remembered the duchess’s words. He didn’t mean to offend her thus. He simply wasn’t thinking.
“Oh yes, beware of a lunatic wife. Do you know it might be hereditary? You’ll have to lock up your children too, just like my father did,” she fairly spat the last words at him.
Robert felt as if she’d hit him. Lock up his own child? Was that the rumor going about the society about Lady Julie? That her father locked up his own child in an asylum? “My apologies,” he said stiffly. “I did not know.”
Lady Julie sniffed. “And if you did? Would this all have been necessary then?” she asked triumphantly. “I didn’t think an earl would sign a betrothal contract without a proper background check.”
“You misunderstood me,” Robert answered hoarsely before clearing his throat. “I apologize for the insanity remark; I did not know your sister was held in an asylum. I just wanted to be harsh.” He drew out a long breath and raked his hand through his hair.
Lady Julie stared at him in astonishment.
Robert tugged on his cravat; he was extremely uncomfortable. He knew there were rumors about the peculiar Duke of Rutland, his father who preferred numbers to humans, and who was exacting to the point of ridiculousness. Nobody dared so much as a whisper in his presence, but Robert still knew they existed. For a powerful man, such rumors didn’t matter at all. For a young lady, however—
“You succeeded,” Lady Julie whispered.
Robert took a deep breath. This hadn’t gone at all like he planned. This whole marriage arrangement seemed to be doomed from the start. His grandmother was right. She should have been the one to select a bride for him. But it was too late now. The paperwork was signed, and no matter how much he wanted to dislike his fiancée, he wanted her. He wanted her body in his bed and her defiant spirit in his estates.
“You have till midnight tomorrow to decide,” he said after a brief pause. “I need to find a wife, soon. I don’t want to go through courting in front of the ton again. So, I’d appreciate your levelheadedness in understanding the situation for what it is. One way or the other, I will announce a betrothal during the parting ball of this house party. One way or the other, your father is going to marry you off as well. Whether we marry each other is up to you. If you don’t tell me otherwise, I’ll assume our betrothal is off at the stroke of midnight tomorrow.” With these words, he turned on his heel and walked away.
* * *
Julie stood in a dark, cold room, hugging herself. The whole situation seemed like a horrible dream. She was betrothed. Without her consent, without her knowledge. The earl hadn’t even bothered to see her before signing the contract. Julie swallowed audibly. She needed to recharge. She stepped out of the library and silently padded toward her own room.
All the guests were stationed in the west wing of the house, but for now, they were all entertained in the drawing room, so the hallway was empty. She looked at the doors lining the hall thoughtfully. Was there any way to tell which room belonged to whom? She looked around to make certain nobody was nearby before turning the handle of the door closest to her and peeking inside. The moonlight from the window lit the room, so she could clearly see the objects inside. She saw ladies’ shoes carefully laid on the floor and what seemed to be a chemise on the bed. A lady’s apartments, obviously. She closed the door and moved on. She wanted to see if she could find St. Clare’s room and end this charade once and for all.
Perhaps Lansdowne wouldn’t care if she were compromised, but it was possible he would. If he thought she was with child, he might decide not to marry her or wait till he was certain. That would buy her some time. Clydesdale was right, of course. Her father was desperate to marry her off. But if she just held on a little more, waited a little longer. Perhaps John would be back.
What about Mary?A distant thought echoed in her mind. But she squashed it instantaneously. She had to be realistic. Not one of those lords would do anything to help her. Her only hope was to wait for John to come back. Unless—
Julie stopped in her tracks, contemplating the idea. Unless she made a deal with the earl. He hadn’t seemed appalled to find out about Mary. Perhaps he could help her.
Julie shook her head. These thoughts were fanciful. No aristocrat she knew of would willingly associate himself with an idiot. Unfortunately, the seed had planted itself in her mind and refused to let go. What if the earl agreed to get Mary out? Was she throwing away the chance to get her sister back by refusing to marry? If she did, what of her promise to John? What of her love for him, his for her? “Your love is the only thing keeping me alive,”he’d written to her. What if he didn’t have that anymore? What if she belonged to another? Julie shook her head and continued on her way down the corridor.
She searched the next room and another but couldn’t find anything distinguishing in any of them. What did she expect? That he’d haverakewritten all over the walls? She opened one more room and finally found the evidence of a male dwelling. It was a neat, dark room, indistinguishable from others, but for the male cape and wig on a chair by the hearth. She opened the door wider to step inside.
“What are you looking for?” Mrs. Darling’s asked behind her.
Julie jumped and turned around, eyes wide.
“I…er…I was,” she stammered, trying to come up with an excuse. “I am looking for my room,” she finally lied, trying to look confused.
“This isn’t it.” Mrs. Darling walked a couple of doors farther and opened Julie’s room door.
“Thank you.” Julie adopted a careless swagger and walked toward her room.
“You were trying to steal, weren’t you?” Mrs. Darling asked when Julie entered. “I should tell your father about this. He will be furious,” she sneered. “You are a disappointment to him.”
Julie swallowed a scathing reply. “Why would I steal?”
“I don’t know, maybe you want to be thrown out of here. To be honest, I have no idea why. Being betrothed to the rich and handsome earl is a dream for many.” She shrugged.
“Well, I am not one of those many. And I’d rather not marry a man I don’t love.”
Mrs. Darling laughed condescendingly. “There is no place for love in society marriages, darling. And there won’t be in yours,” she said and closed Julie’s door, locking it from the outside.
“You are wrong about that,” Julie vowed to herself. She pulled out her journal and leafed through it, turning to the page where she’d described the day John had first kissed her. Goosebumps stole up her arms from the memory, and she shivered in the warm room.
“I love you,” he’d whispered after giving her the softest, gentlest kiss. “As soon as I finish school, we’ll get married. I promise.”
Julie had blushed then. She had been fifteen years old. Although she felt much older by that point. Hardened by her experiences earlier in the year. Her mother’s death, Mary’s disappearance. Then, in the arms of a boy she’d loved most of her life, she’d felt safe. Now, to keep the dream of marrying said boy and living with him forever, she had to do the unthinkable. Seduce the rake.
She clutched the journal close to her chest and huddled under the blankets with it. “Please, please, please, please, please,” she repeatedly begged until she fell asleep.
