by Sharon Page
But once he knew she was pregnant, he couldn’t stand making her feel scared.
David, he saw, was smiling as if he was being given a personal tour of heaven by an angel.
14
The Worthington Ball
Fast-paced jazz music poured out of Worthington Park. Lights glittered in the gardens as if they were filled with fireflies. Silver trays covered in glasses of champagne were whisked by footmen. Julia had never seen this many people for any ball at Worthington before. There were hundreds and hundreds. An orchestra played outside and people laughed and danced wildly on the lawns.
The rest of her family walked up the steps, Nigel escorting their grandmother. Julia hung back, gaping at the scene around her. Zoe had let the others go on ahead, too.
Zoe observed, “It’s like a wild American party thrown by a crazy millionaire,” Zoe observed.
But would Cal have gone to those? Those parties were for the rich. “Goodness, it’s rather stunning, isn’t it?” Julia asked. This would be the first time she had seen Cal for days. She’d had to stay away—she’d been carrying out a search. One she didn’t want Cal to know about. She hadn’t seen him since he’d told her to leave his family alone, then kissed her. She—she was trembling at the thought of seeing him again. Filled with anticipation, joy, fear. She looked to Zoe. “Is this really what you do in America?”
Zoe laughed. “Julia, I must take you on a tour of America.”
Her heart pattered, then she shook her head. “I can’t. I have Ellen to protect and people who depend upon my help. My days are busy. I’d have no time to go to America. I have too much to do. So I’ll have to enjoy it by proxy tonight.”
“We can have your widows looked after while you’re gone,” Zoe said. “I remember what you said on the train. You want to travel. I’ll take you to America. When this little one is born, I want Nicholas to see America, and if I go to America, it means my mother won’t stay for months at Brideswell.”
“I like your mother.”
“But that’s because you are just one step away from being saintly, Julia.”
“I would like to go to America sometime,” Julia said. But strangely, the thought of going rather filled her with panic. This is the life she knew. This was her place in the world. But going away would only be for a visit. Why suddenly feel afraid to even spread her wings a little?
“Julia, I’m still surprised you tried so hard to convince Alice Hayes to come,” Zoe said softly. They stood together on the steps, the rest of the family waiting at the door for them.
Alice was who she had searched for. “I thought she would come, but she changed her mind at the last minute. I must thank Nigel again for having the family solicitors locate her so quickly. Cal’s brother very much wants to see her again.”
“But if Cal is in love with her—”
“I am sure the two men would be able to work this out between them. It’s ridiculous that they both have to give up on love.”
“No.” Zoe looked at her curiously. “I mean most women don’t search for their competition.”
“Cal loves Alice Hayes. I could see it in his eyes as he looked at me. That longing. I’m sure of it. And if he marries and is happy, he’ll be far more willing to settle at Worthington.”
She spoke calmly, but felt a sudden twist of pain inside. Cal loved someone else... Now she understood why he’d said he wouldn’t marry.
“Julia, you’d do that to save the estate?” Zoe frowned. “Is your sense of duty more important than love?”
“Cal and I are not in love with each other,” she said firmly. “I’m not about to fall in love with anyone in a situation that would be obviously hopeless.”
“I know you think a lady must have everything under control, Julia. Love doesn’t work that way.”
For one foolish moment, she thought of that little kiss, that sweet but snappy touch of Cal’s lips to hers. She’d pulled back because of Alice. That was why he’d told her honestly he couldn’t marry. He loved Alice. She’d found Alice, but at the last moment Alice had changed her mind, had decided not to come. Julia simply wouldn’t breathe a word about it to David so he wouldn’t be hurt.
She followed Zoe into the house and gasped in shock. It was impossible to move. People danced everywhere: girls with bobbed hair and short dresses; men in the fashionable baggy trousers and slouching-style jackets.
Julia followed Zoe’s example, thrusting aside ladylike behavior to shove through the crowd.
She managed to reach the ballroom just after Zoe. The terrace doors stood open, curtains fluttering in the summer breeze. Another band played jazz in here, with a stylish woman singing with a throaty voice. Her deep brown complexion looked stunning against a gold beaded dress.
Champagne flutes were snatched quickly from the salvers. Crowds filled the stairs, attempting to dance on the steps. A woman tumbled down, but in the crowd, she landed on a dozen other people and didn’t hurt herself.
Julia had never seen Worthington like this. A vase fell with a crash. A man shouted, “Watch this,” and then slid down the banister. He knocked over a dozen people on his way down.
Julia felt overwhelmed. It was as if an amusement park had been stuffed inside the house.
Where was Cal? With his brother? But she couldn’t find either of them as she fought through the crowd. One man grabbed her arm and pulled her into a wild version of a foxtrot. Another grabbed her after him.
“I don’t want to dance,” she cried, getting free.
The dining room was filled with a buffet—poor Hannah must have worked her fingers to the bone to produce so much food. Even though Cal had hired more kitchen maids, it was still the young cook’s duty to oversee everything.
Julia didn’t approve of this. It was too wild, too flamboyant, too wrong.
Searching for Cal, she ran into the Duke of Bradstock. “Dance with me?” James shouted.
She shook her head. “No, thank you, James. I must find Cal.”
“He’s probably having an orgy in a bedroom,” James said sourly.
Maybe James was right. But she remembered that look of longing. For all Cal’s reputation, she believed he was a man who loved deeply.
It was hard to escape the crowd. She encountered a man in a drawing room, looking at the items on the mantelpiece. So much like the Klipspringer character in The Great Gatsby—Zoe had had a copy sent from New York as soon as it was published—Julia felt she had walked into a fictional world. She expected him to observe that the books on the shelves were real.
“Have you seen the host? The Earl of Worthington?”
“The Earl of Worthington?” He looked blankly at her. “He’s here?”
Julia plunged onward. She heard a soft musical sound at the end of the hallway. Another band? This was the study. She knocked on the door and opened it.
Cal sat there, his feet propped on the desk. A gramophone played a soft tune, sounding tinny compared to the vibrant music roaring from the ballroom.
“Do you know it’s a madhouse out there? I’m afraid they will tear the house apart—” She broke off. “Was that your plan? To hurt the countess by forcing her to watch a madding crowd destroy things?”
He shrugged. “This is the kind of party I like—a thousand strangers all having a good time.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He swung his legs down, got out of his chair. To Julia’s surprise, he came right up to her, then he put her hand on his shoulder, her other at his waist. He waltzed with her, in a tight circle in the middle of his study.
“Stop this. Some of the paintings and porcelain are priceless. Something should be done.”
He kept twirling her. “I’ve told the staff to stop the booze at ten o’clock. That will get rid of most of the crowd. And it’s just stuff. There
are things that matter a hell of a lot more.” He stopped dancing. “I like waltzing with you. I like holding you close and moving slowly with you, like we’re both suspended in time.”
That was how she felt with him.
“No woman has ever gotten under my skin like you. You make me mad, you make me lust, you make me get angry at myself, and you make even the gloomiest day feel like it’s radiant and beautiful.”
Cal turned her, his feet moving them gracefully across the old Aubusson carpet.
When she looked up into his eyes, she saw so much yearning it took her breath away. But he’d told her he couldn’t love her—and she knew why. He’d told her he loved Alice, the woman he couldn’t have and he must still love Alice. Perhaps he was dedicated to revenge because he thought he couldn’t have love.
“I know you lost your mother and father, and I understand your anger, but is it truly making you happy to turn everything into a battle?” she asked softly. Even the missing women were a fight between them—a fight between her belief in Anthony and Cal’s hatred of the family.
He let her go. Backed away. “Don’t pity me. I prefer your contempt.”
“That’s ridiculous. And I don’t pity you. I want you to heal. You must make a new life and be happy.”
“Some things don’t heal, Julia. And what’s the point of struggling and fighting to survive if you don’t put the things right that hurt you badly?” He took a step away from her. “I should go to my party. Play the host. And remember—don’t pity me. I’d rather have you hate me.”
Then he was gone.
Julia’s heart trembled, like a large rose bloom on a slender stalk. “It’s not pity,” she said softly, because he couldn’t hear. “It’s love.”
It was true. Zoe had known—Zoe had seen it. But Julia was like Cal with David...she only wanted his happiness. She had to remember he’d told her he loved Alice Hayes.
She hurried out, with no idea where to go or what to do, wanting to escape the raucous party. She spied David sitting in his wheeled chair along the wall, near an open door. He grinned at her. “When I said I wanted a ball, I didn’t expect this. It’s like Grand Central Terminal in here.”
“Yes, but unfortunately nobody leaves,” she muttered.
“Pardon me?” David shouted.
“David Carstairs? Is that you, David?” A rich and clear voice struggled to be heard over the crowd. Julia looked up at the same moment David did, and she heard him say, “Oh Lord. It’s Alice.”
Julia straightened. “She came after all.”
The crowd had one of those moments where it parted, revealing the woman who stood there. A young woman who seemed to glow because her hair was pure gold, and her dress was a soft shade of pink that spoke of summer gardens. She was older than her midtwenties, beautiful with an oval face, high cheekbones, a small nose and large eyes.
David gulped. “God, I didn’t really think... What’s she going to think...? What am I gonna do?”
Julia touched David’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You are going to talk to her, that’s what you are going to do.”
Then Cal would, of course. Julia would probably love Cal forever—but he would be happy with Alice.
* * *
Cal looked out the window. Hanging lights gave the garden a surreal glow. He saw a rotating glint that caught his eye. It was David’s wheeled chair, the wheel spokes reflecting the lights. Someone was pushing him. Someone with light blond hair.
Then he saw her.
He stalked out, confronting Julia who was walking back up the stone steps to the terrace. “That’s Alice Hayes pushing David’s chair.”
“I know,” Julia said softly. “I found her, wrote to her, and she came tonight to see David after all. I’ve offered to let her stay at Brideswell for a few days.”
“You brought Alice here? I told you I didn’t want that. You had no right.”
“Your brother wished to see her, and in her letter answering mine, she expressed a strong desire to see him.”
“Goddamn it,” he snapped, “he’s going to get hurt.”
Julia flinched. But insisted, “She seems genuinely happy to see David.”
“That doesn’t mean she can find it in her heart to love a man who can’t provide for her, who needs her protection rather than the other way around.”
“But she came here, knowing that he did not have legs. That has to mean something, Cal. Perhaps you should give Alice more credit. Cal, you told me how much you love her. It’s obvious why you are notorious for love affairs with models and such scandalous things. You believe you can’t have the woman you love. But I think you would be happy if—”
“I don’t want to be damn well happy. I want to protect my brother. Look at them,” he snapped.
Alice and his brother were talking. David held Alice’s hand, but she was shaking her head. He could read her sadness in the way her head was bowed, and he saw pain on his brother’s face.
“I’m watching my brother get his heart broken. Why couldn’t you have left it alone? Neither David nor I belong here. I’m not going to fight to belong in a world that doesn’t want me. I’m not going to put my brother through it, either.”
“But Alice—”
“I could never damn well have Alice. Not without telling her a bunch of lies. I want you to keep away, Julia. Keep away from David. Stay at Brideswell. I’ll help the families on this estate from now on. Not you.”
The pain on her face made him feel like crap. But she’d pushed too hard. She wanted too much. She was never going to make him happy—she was the thing making him crazy.
“I won’t stop doing that, Cal. Not for anyone.”
“There’s someone who can stop you. I’m going to tell your brother that Ellen’s pimp almost attacked you, and that I’m forbidding you from dealing with my estate to keep you safe. He won’t let you out of his sight.”
She recoiled, white as meringue frosting. “How could you do that? This is so important to me—it is the only thing that I have.”
And he knew this was his chance to push her away completely. To take the thing that mattered most away from her. Then she’d leave him the hell alone. Leave him to his revenge, and stop tempting him with what he couldn’t have.
15
Attack on Julia
For days after the party, Julia’s heart was in turmoil. She had wanted to give David Carstairs his chance to see his beloved Alice again. She had hoped to save Worthington by giving Cal the chance to be happy. How much of his anger was driven by having to walk away from the woman he loved for his brother’s sake?
Finally, Cal had admitted to her he wouldn’t “rat out” to her brother as he’d put it. But he was hurt, angry, protective as a bear. He’d cut off the liquor and shut down the party after that. David had coerced him to let Alice Hayes stay at Worthington. Would Cal surrender to love with Alice so close?
Ellen had been sent home from the hospital yesterday, having improved a great deal. She’d only just learned Cal had taken Ellen back to the cottage, and had taken Ben, too. Ellen’s pimp was still at large and Ellen still refused to give his name. She had admitted the man had beaten her badly because she had refused to prostitute herself anymore.
What had happened to Ellen—and Cal’s anger—made Julia question herself. Was she making things better for people—was she truly helping, or making things worse?
Now, carrying her umbrella—it had proved invaluable—she knocked on the door of Ellen’s cottage, rather startled when a burly-looking man answered it. “Who are you?” she asked. This was not the man who she had confronted in the village about Ellen. This specimen stood even larger.
Off went his cap and he bowed. “Makepeace Jones, my lady,” he answered. “Hired by his lordship to keep watch over Miss Lambert and her lad.”
<
br /> So Cal had thought of that. “I have food for Miss Lambert.” She saw Ellen, and shared the special sticky buns between Ben and Makepeace. She did not launch into a plea for Ellen to give the name of her attacker. Instead she ensured Ellen was eating well, and she took a look at the bandages—Dougal had shown her how. It had been awkward dealing with Dougal. Julia could not forget how he had dismissed the possibility Ellen had shell shock. His stubborn acceptance of the prevailing male point of view had shocked her. And even now, she could see Ellen tremble. She had seen Nigel do that, even though he used to hide it well.
But when she left the cottage, at least she knew Ellen would be safe, with Makepeace to watch over her.
Julia walked back to her car. She’d had to leave it down the lane as there was an enormous muddy hole between her motorcar and Ellen’s gate. After the hot night of the ball, the weather had been stormy. Many places had flooded, creeks had spilled over their banks, and it made for a wet, mucky trudge on the lane. At least the rain had stopped today.
Ahead of her sat her car, the cream-painted sides and chrome spattered with mud. She had to turn it around. But that put her at risk of getting stuck in the quagmire of mud in front of her car.
“I’m going to have to reverse,” she murmured aloud.
She did, twisting around and moving slowly to ensure she didn’t drive off the track and get stuck. Then, as she put her foot on the accelerator, a large figure jumped out from a laurel bush behind her. Julia slammed down on the brake. In her shock, she jerked the wheel and the car shot sideways, off the track. She lurched to a stop and had to swallow hard for her heart was in her throat.
“Are you all right?” she cried, her hand on the door handle.
