by Anna Macy
Immediately, her wide eyes were drawn to the swarthy skinned man who sat across the parlor. His almost black hair was neatly combed back from a tall forehead and below that, a square jaw that had begun to twitch the moment she had walked into the room. He barely looked like the roughed up, the dangerous-looking man she had encountered last night when she sneaked into the guest room.
This man was polished, aristocratic, looking closer to someone serving in the House of Lords than the wild man child Marian had always talked about. She had been right about one thing, though; he was devastatingly handsome. But his tense shoulders under his grey jacket made her wary; reminded her why exactly they were here this morning.
She hoped she would be given a moment to explain herself. Juliet hadn’t met William during her short time out in society, but she had seen the way other ladies had acted around young, wealthy bachelors. At the time, Juliet and Marian had looked down on those women, with their desperate smiles, coy glances, and cunning mothers.
Marian had already begun to sow the seeds of a potential marriage between her dearest friend and her brother, but after Robert waffled on the wedding dates, a feeling of desperation she had never known had crept into Juliet’s veins.
William rose from his chair, standing with his back to the windows, showing the darkly contrasting lines of his cheekbones and the lowered brows that almost hid his slate-colored eyes. If she hadn’t already been transfixed by his lovely olive skin and dark hair, his eyes drew her in like bees to honey.
They were stunning and almost silver in the bright morning light, flashing with an emotion she couldn’t place. The corresponding bright white linen of his shirt and cravat only emphasized the man’s darkly handsome looks, his thick hair just long enough to curl lightly over the edge of his collar.
Juliet distinctly remembered running her fingers through that hair just hours ago. She flushed pink with embarrassment.
Suddenly, all Juliet wanted to do was apologize, and the words built in her throat, overwhelming her, filling her mind. Explanations, stories, apologies. Anything to clear the air between them and start fresh. Her lips fluttered open, her breath catching in her lungs. “My Lord,” Juliet began, pausing just beyond the thick double door entrance.
Robert stepped into her vision, halting her train of thought. He must’ve been sitting directly across from William, but it was only now that Juliet noticed the man.
Dear, sweet Robert, whose face usually smiled so quickly, looked at her now with a sort of uncomfortable brotherly fondness.
Until now, Juliet had resented that non-romantic affection he seemed to hold for her, but today it felt right. Even if it was a bit sad, his bright blue eyes quickly dashed between William, who still stood at attention, jaw clenched and twitching, and Juliet, whose eyes couldn’t seem to get enough of the darkly handsome man. A small half-smile tugged at Robert’s mouth.
“Lady Juliet,” Robert began, giving a small bow as he gestured to the plush pair of settees in the center of the room. “Please come in, join us.”
Juliet snapped her mouth shut, realizing that not only were Robert and William in the room but Lady Catherine as well. The older woman was dressed for the day in a stylish gown of pale green, emphasizing the light tones of her eyes and the softness of her still perfect skin.
And while she didn’t smile or greet her, Juliet had a suspicion that Lady Catherine spent the moments that she crossed the room carefully evaluating her every move.
Juliet dropped into a full curtsy, bowing her chin to Lady Catherine until the older woman politely cleared her throat, and said, “Please sit, Lady Juliet, we have much to discuss, and I’d like to get started.”
Juliet sat quickly, her red dress pooling around in a way that she hoped would make her appear voluminous and powerful, instead of the nervous, heart-pounding anxiousness that she feared everyone could see.
Juliet returned Lady Catherine’s calculating gaze, so much like her daughter Marian's, with her own. She folded her hands on her lap to hide their shaking.
Without another word, Lady Catherine went straight to the heart of the matter, “We were all there last night, so there is no need to keep the small talk going.” Both Robert and William sat hurriedly, almost comically. Their faces turned to their mutual maternal figure with rapt attention.
“Much as I believe that Lady Juliet would be a fine match for you, Robert, I cannot ignore the obvious and blatant disregard for propriety that we have stumbled into.” A uniformed staff member of the Lakeview manor walked into the room, discreetly dropping a tray of biscuits and tea between the two women, and quickly disappearing back out of the room.
Lady Catherine dropped her sharp eyes to the tea set; the message abundantly clear. Juliet immediately gripped the teapot and filled a delicately curved cup and passed it smoothly to Lady Catherine. The woman who bobbed her grey head in approval. Juliet suppressed a small smile. She was still a Greystone, not some heathen.
“No matter now, though. I have acted as a parent to William for many years, and while his dear parents are not here to advise on it, I believe that you may potentially make a better match for him.”
Juliet focused on placing the teapot back on the table, biting into her bottom lip to avoid immediately staring in Williams' direction. Every fiber of her being was desperate to see how he was reacting to Lady Catherine’s statement.
Juliet looked carefully up through her thick lashes and could just catch the flash of a pained emotion across William’s handsome face before it was replaced with a mask of disinterest.
“Lady Catherine, whatever you think you saw that night, it was a small, easily correctable misunderstanding,” came the smooth, caressing voice from William.
“It will be days before the rest of the invite list descends upon Lakeview.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over another with casual nonchalance born of a lifetime of privilege.
Juliet was not as in control of her emotions, and a flash of anger colored her smooth skin as she set her cup down with a clatter and shifted to face William. Her mouth opened to serve the Marquess with a scalding retort when Lady Catherine beat her to the punch. “Don’t take that tone with me, William. You may be a Marquess now, but you will always be the wild little boy who ran naked across Devonshire’s lawn to me.”
Robert snorted. Juliet’s jaw dropped, and she could feel her ears turning red at the imagery. Shockingly William remained unmoved as Lady Catherine stood, her tiny frame emanating an almost palatable wave of austerity into the room.
“You will do what is right, William. If not because you respect both myself and Lady Juliet; it will be because I have already written to several prominent newspapers in London to correct the wedding announcement between Robert and Juliet. As soon as I have confirmation from Lady Juliet’s father, it will run across the page on every member of the peerage’s breakfast table. Can you imagine? Greystone’s daughter and the mysterious Marquess of Mansfield Park. What intrigue.”
Juliet flinched, biting her lip again at the severity of the tone coming from Lady Catherine’s rouged lips. In many ways, she appreciated the woman’s plight to save her modesty. But it seemed aggressive to her, considering that Juliet had been the instigator.
“Lady Catherine, I don’t think you understand,” Juliet began, sitting up straight and tearing her eyes away from William.
“It was me, not William, who set this into motion. I understand if you do not want me to marry Robert, but William is a victim here as well. Please don’t force me upon him, not like this.” Juliet flinched at the irony of her own words, seeing as she had only recently jumped on the man. “I am sincerely sorry for the distress I’ve caused you.”
She stole a glance at the two men. Robert was looking down, his expression relaxed, his shoulders dropped, and his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of the chair. He was more adept at taking a verbal assault from his mother than the rest of them. William, on the other hand, was utterly still, his face froz
en in a handsome smirking mask, his body unmoving.
But those silver eyes flashed with frustration. With clear intention, they rose to gaze at her. A shiver ran down her back as she recalled the way he had returned her kisses; at the way his body had felt covering her down.
“I’m not sure distress is how I would explain what I feel.” William’s icy response cut through Juliet’s heart like a hot knife through butter. Juliet blinked rapidly, hating the flood of tears that threatened, making her eyelids tremble.
Looking back to Lady Catherine for any hints at how to salvage this conversation, Juliet dug her fingers into the deep scarlet fabric of her skirts.
“I don’t know how to explain.” Juliet kept her face cast downward, giving her traitorous tear ducts a moment to withdraw.
“Don’t know how? Or won’t?” William's voice was chipped, bitter, frown pulling lightly on his full lips. Juliet raised her clear, dry eyes to his, scowling at him for a moment.
“Your time for explanation and avoidance has passed. Step up. Both of you.” With a flourish of her skirts, Lady Catherine stood and swept from the parlor with such dramatic flair that Juliet found herself wondering how Marian had turned out so easy-going, let alone Robert.
Staring at her feet, Juliet couldn’t decide what to do next. Part of her was brainstorming a saucy reply, which she could throw over her shoulders as she followed the powerful woman from the room. The other half of her longed to stay and talk, to explain. This may be her only shot.
One look at Robert sealed her decision. His face was serene, calm, but he looked back at her with grave concern in his eyes. He was a good man, and he deserved her explanation more than anyone else.
William could wait, Juliet decided; she needed to tackle these two issues separately. And, as it turned out, she and William might have a lifetime to discuss her impropriety.
“Robert, May I speak to you privately?” Juliet startled slightly at the way her voice carried so efficiently across the room to where the pair of gentlemen sat silently. William looked sharply at Robert, and an unsaid moment passed between them.
Nodding, William turned to Juliet, and with something akin to a grimace, he bowed to her before marching from the room with such force that it created a light breeze that caused her skirts to billow slightly against her legs.
Once he was gone from the room, Juliet felt like she could finally take a deep breath and was able to look at Robert again. With both hands, Robert reached out and took hers. His hands were warm and as comforting as the feel of soft leather against her skin. His familiar smile mimicked his warmth with a genuine kindness that made her want to cringe with guilt.
“I must beg for your apology, my Lord, for the horrific way that I’ve acted.” Julie struggled to meet his eyes. “I fear I’ve embarrassed you, Devonshire, and all of Greystone in one fell swoop.” Her teeth sunk into the fullness of her bottom lip as she struggled to hold her wayward emotions together.
Robert’s smile flickered slightly at her words, and his bright blue eyes looked her over openly as if seeing her for the very first time. A sad, almost resigned look crossed his tanned face. As if she were a spooky horse or a wayward child, Robert reached out with one calloused hand, gripping her chin with a tenderness that Juliet found herself leaning against.
“I am not embarrassed. You, me, even William, we are all humans, we will make,” Robert hesitated for a moment, pensive, “Miscalculations.” he finished with another soft smile. He tipped her head up a little so that she was forced to meet his gaze with her watery one. “I will stand with you through this, Juliet. But I will not marry you.”
The simple, sure statement almost undid Juliet’s entirely. Her knees quaked, and for a moment her stomach considered emptying itself all over the beautiful upholstery that surrounded them. Breathing hard through her nose, it was no use. Much to her horror the tears spilled over her eyes and fell in scalding streams down her cheeks.
“Oh, no, Juliet,” Robert’s voice was pained now, and he was pale under his tan. “Please don’t cry.” He frantically wiped at one cheek, brushing aside some of her tears as she tried to push down the overwhelming urge to break out in full-body sobs.
She had never felt such shame, such horror at her impulsive actions. Even with Lady Catherine’s announcement that she would be married to Lord William, she felt out of control and alone.
And besides all that, she hated crying. The whole thing, the noises, the splotchy skin, and of course, the salt of the tears as they ran into her lips. And most of all, she hated crying in front of people.
Robert had been the source of her hopes, her dreams since her stepfather had agreed to the match. And now she has destroyed that possibility.
While she didn’t love the man, she had loved the idea of what love would be like, what a real family would be like with Marian as her sister, and the powerful and elegant Lady Catherine as a mother-in-law. It had been everything Juliet had ever craved.
And it was over.
Now she was crying to her ex-fiancé about the woe of it. Sniffling hard, Juliet took her hand from Robert, and quickly, roughly swiped the remaining tears from her face. She stepped back, putting distance between the blonde man and herself.
Robert didn’t back down. He stood firm, and while she had knocked his hand free in her attempt to hide her tears, he laid a brotherly hand on her shoulder.
He tried a smile, “We both know I would make a horrible husband, Juliet.” Juliet let out a watery chuckle. The man had been incredibly complicated during their short engagement, avoiding her and all wedding topics with an impressive amount of skill. She looked up at him. He was indeed one of the best people she had had the pleasure of meeting.
“You would’ve been a fine husband,” Juliet said, a smile breaking out, “Even if you have horrible taste in wedding details.” Robert staggered backward in mock injury, holding his chest as his smile widened into a full-fledged grin.
Juliet laughed, a genuine one from deep in the core of her body. Something she hadn’t done for a very long time. Robert straightened, and with a grandiose gesture, he offered his arm to her.
“Friends, perhaps?” His hopeful expression sent a beacon of warmth into her chest. Juliet slid her hand through his elbow, and she looked up at the man who would’ve been her husband. She had lost that now; she knew that for sure. But maybe, she had gained a great friend. Her fingers gripped the fabric of his jacket tightly.
“Friends,” Juliet said the word softly, her head bumping against his shoulder for a moment.
“Alright, then let’s go find the rest of our party, my friend,” Robert said, leading them both from the parlor and out into the sun laced gardens of Lakeview.
CHAPTER FOUR
William was hiding. He would never admit it, but it was the painful truth. It was too early for brandy and too late to go back to bed. Instead, he was hiding out at the immaculate stables that Nicholas kept at the country house.
The horses were good company, the staff didn’t seem to notice him, and better yet, there were no beautiful, gentlewomen jumping out of dark corners and straight into his life. That last part was essential to him at the moment.
He leaned his elbows against the stall of an amiable beast, it’s long, chestnut face gently butting up to his arms. The horse's velvet lips searched his body for treats or pets, as William sighed deeply.
“Of all the people of all the women in the world who had to be here this weekend. Why her? Why them?” William asked the mare. The horse pulled back to blow a grass scented breath in his face before abandoning him for a pile of hay.
“Even you don’t want to listen to me.” William drummed his fingers lightly against the worn wooden edge of the stall door. “I don’t blame you. I’ve made a mess of this lot.”
“Eh, it’s not all bad,” came a voice just down from him. Nicholas stood there, leaning one elbow against the stall, one foot crossed over the other, the picture of calm well-cultured dignity. William forced a smile
for his friend.
Nicholas Euston was a third son, the youngest in his family. Yet somehow had always been the leader in their trio, going back as far as their days of torturing professors at school. This house, one of many his grandfather owned, was called Lakeview Manor. Nicholas, Robert, and William had been coming here for the summer as long as he could remember.
“I mean,” Nicholas paused and brushed a bit of hay from his otherwise immaculate overcoat, “At least it’s only marriage.”
William let out a sharp, barking laugh. Nicholas and the hay munching horse were both startled at the harsh sound.
William shook his head at his friend. “Only marriage, you say.” Pushing off the stall, he turned to face his friend. “Then perhaps you should marry her. This is the ideal situation for your kind of heroics, Nicholas. Save her reputation. Win over Greystone. The crowds would swoon over you for decades.” Nicholas’ lips curled up in a wistful smile.
