Once Upon a True Love's Kiss

by Julie Johnstone

Heat warmed Julianna's face. "Long enough to know you wish me to marry and are fearful I'm going to muck up my chances." She strode across the room on trembling legs and sat beside David. "I think perhaps you ought to tell me what the trouble is."

  "The trouble is money," David said solemnly. "We don't have terribly much of it, I'm afraid, and Helena is expecting."

  "Helena, that's wonderful!" True joy mingled with a sharp pang of regret for the second child she and Henry would never conceive.

  Helena smiled at her, but her lips quivered.

  "Julianna, I feel just awful to even expect you to remarry, but I—" Helena glanced swiftly at her husband before looking back at Julianna "—that is, we, don't see a choice what with the babe coming and our coffers so tight and you with no other relatives to turn to."

  Julianna pressed her fingertips to her aching temples. "I don't understand." She knew all the property was entailed, and since all the money came from the property, there had been little income Henry could leave for her and Liza, but she had assumed the property still earned a good deal of money and that David would not mind her and Liza staying on. "Is the income down for the property?"

  She did not miss the subtle look David and Helena exchanged.

  David shifted in his chair, tight lines forming around his mouth. "The land is not bringing in near as much money as it once was, and I had to use some of the reserve money to pay off the debt Henry had accumulated."

  Julianna blinked. "Debt? What debt?"

  David glanced down at his hands, but Helena's gaze strayed to Julianna's neck and seemed to fasten on the large ruby-and-diamond necklace that Henry had given her for her birthday right before he had fallen ill. Julianna's hand fluttered to the heart-shaped necklace. Why was Helena staring at it? Or was it simply Julianna's imagination? The room grew silent, except for the ticking of a clock and the low whistle of wind against the window that faced the garden.

  A hard knot developed in Julianna's stomach. She swallowed, struggling to put to words the awful suspicion in her mind. "Did Henry have a gambling problem?"

  "No," David cried, but at the same instant, Helena said, "yes."

  Julianna sucked in an unsteady breath. "Which is it? No or yes?"

  Helena opened her mouth to speak, but David waved his wife to silence and speared Julianna with his earnest blue gaze. "Henry did not gamble regularly, Julianna."

  Julianna didn't exhale with relief. She could feel the but hanging in the air. "Go on," she said, barely above a whisper.

  "Henry was never a patient man. Surely you know that?"

  She smiled, despite the tight knots in her shoulders that seemed to be spreading down her back. Henry had asked her to marry him one week after meeting her, and one day after they had been married, he had declared they needed to start their family because he wanted at least six Julianna replicas running around the house. "Yes, I know. But I did so love his impetuousness."

  David patted her hand. "We all did, dearest, but he wasn't practical. The estate has been losing money for a while. I tried to talk to him and tell him what investments to make, but he chose to invest money in schemes he thought would turn a profit faster. The outcome was that he lost a great deal of money."

  Those knots pulsed within her body. "When? He never said a word to me."

  David's gaze grew solemn. "Things got very tight more than six months before he died."

  She clasped the cold stone lying against her chest. Suddenly, it felt heavy. Too heavy. "He bought me this for my birthday." She held the dazzling necklace out. "How could he have purchased this if money was so scarce? Why would he have? I wouldn't have cared if he didn't buy me anything. All I cared about was him."

  "Shh, dearest." Helena patted her shoulder.

  Julianna gazed up at her sister-in-law, unsure when she had gotten up or why she was telling her to hush. Had she been shrill? She pressed a hand to her cheek, the skin sticky and warm, almost feverish, but she was not sick. Not physically, anyway. "I'm all right. Please, David, do you know how he could have possibly bought me this necklace if we had no money?"

  "I know," a deep voice replied from behind her.

  She twisted in her seat to meet the dark gaze of Lord Cameron Trevelle, who brushed past the pinch-faced butler whose tense mouth showed his displeasure at being circumvented in his duties of announcing the guest. Julianna stared at the man who had been Henry's closest friend. "Lord Cameron, if you know you must tell me."

  "He wanted to buy you an expensive gift for your birthday, and when he told me he didn't have the funds to do so, I suggested he try to win it at the tables. I'm afraid he got a taste of winning and kept going back. Except after he won the money for the necklace, he kept losing." Lord Cameron's gaze locked on her. He offered her a sad smile. "I feel awful for ever suggesting he gamble. It was a foolish thing to do." Lord Cameron inclined his head toward David. "Barrows has told me how much debt Henry left, and the strain it has left him in, not to mention the precarious position it has left you in, and I'm here to make it right."

  Julianna's thoughts felt slow, and all the words came at her entirely too fast. She wanted to understand, but she didn't, and the room was unbearably hot. She shoved her chair back and walked to the window, which thankfully was open. Gulping in a deep breath of air, she tried to calm herself. She gripped the windowpane, staring blindly into the garden. Henry had left his brother in debt and without enough money to keep his own growing family afloat, especially not with the added burden of feeding and clothing her and Liza. She was suddenly an encumbrance in a home that had once been hers. Either she needed to find employment or a husband. She shoved her hand to her mouth to stop from crying out. She had no qualifications, and the idea of marrying ever again was unfathomable. She tried to picture kissing another man, lying with another man, and her stomach turned to one hard, burning knot.

  Falling to pieces was not going to help her, though the idea of curling up in a ball, squeezing her eyes shut, and pretending this was not happening was very tempting indeed. She turned to face Lord Cameron and hoped she didn't look as wretched as she felt. "Unless you are here to offer me employment, I don't see how you can help me."

  "I'm here to offer you marriage," Lord Cameron said, or at least what Julianna thought he'd said.

  A horribly loud, high-pitched noise suddenly filled her ears.

  "Marriage?" The word felt ripped from her throat.

  He nodded. "Henry was my best friend. It's my fault he ever gambled in the first place, and I promised him on his deathbed I would make sure you and Liza were cared for. I would like you to be my wife."

  The room was doing that awful spinning thing again, as it had done last night. She gripped the windowpane behind her again and perched on the edge of it. "I cannot marry you. I don't love you."

  "Julianna, don't be ridiculous," David scolded, coming to stand by Lord Cameron and clamping him on the back. "The ton is filled with marriages of convenience. This is the perfect solution."

  Suddenly, Helena was beside David and nodding at Julianna. She darted her gaze around the room, wanting to shout at them all that she could never marry again. She'd given all of her heart to Henry. When he'd died, he'd taken with him her desire to open up herself to that much love or pain again. She had not wanted to get up and go on living, but she had for Liza, because Liza already had Julianna's love. There was nothing she could do to change that, but she'd protect herself against ever loving a man again, not that she was worried. She had no doubt that even if she wanted to, she could never love a man in the consuming way she'd loved Henry.

  She'd trusted him implicitly. So much so, she had never questioned anything, never thought for a moment he would do something so silly as to gamble to buy her a gift she had not really needed. Poor Henry. Why had her darling fool thought she needed any gift greater than his love? The idea that he'd perhaps used his dying breath to beg his best friend to take care of her made her feel ill.

  She couldn't be here now. The room was so sm
all and her sadness so great. She could barely catch her breath, but she forced herself to say words she thought would placate everyone for now. "I can't think about remarrying yet." Not ever, really, but there was no need to worry Helena and David that she would be a continued burden to them. She would have to come up with something.

  Lord Cameron stepped toward her. "Julianna, please. What will you do? Let me protect you."

  "No." She cringed at the harsh sound of her own voice and made herself meet his gaze. He was a good man and she knew he only wanted to help her, but she could not let him help her by marrying her. She studied him. He didn't appear angry, but rather perplexed with his tilted head and furrowed brow.

  "I…I'm sorry. It's not you. It's me," she blurted.

  She brushed past them and hurried out the door, only to collide with the butler who caught her at the elbow. Once she was steady, he immediately withdrew his hand.

  "My lady, I'm so sorry. I was just coming to tell you that Lady Davenport is waiting in the parlor to see you."

  Thank goodness! At least now, David would not try to drag her back in there to convince her to marry Lord Cameron. It was noble of him to offer to marry her, yes, but she couldn't marry him, she just couldn't. As she hurried away from the breakfast room, she tried to block the fear creeping into her mind. If she did not come up with somewhere to live and a way to earn money, the only choice for her would be to marry again. The thought made her almost stumble.

  She paused outside the parlor door and tried to compose herself, but the minute she opened the door and saw her friend's smiling face, Julianna's throat began to spasm with the need to cry on Audrey's shoulder. She swallowed hard and walked with what she hoped looked to be composure, but as she sat beside Audrey on the settee, Audrey grabbed her hands.

  "Dearest, what's the matter? You look as if you are about to faint."

  "Do I?" Julianna smiled, but her cheeks felt brittle as glass. "I've just learned that David and Helena are in a rather desperate financial state. And Helena is expecting."

  "Ah. Now I see why you look sickly. I suppose given the meager funds Henry left you, they think you should marry."

  "They do, and I already have a proposal."

  Audrey winked. "My, don't you work fast? And here I was under the impression that you were vehemently opposed to remarrying."

  "Please don't jest," Julianna moaned, trying not to sound miserable, but she was not deaf. She could hear the bleakness of her own tone. "I will never marry again."

  "Dearest." Audrey shook her head. "Didn't your mother ever tell you the danger of using the word never? One can appear so contrary when they end up doing the very thing they said they never would. Especially when it comes to a man. I fear I'm going to have to remind you of what you said one day, and I have to admit I'll do it with pleasure."

  Julianna didn't want to sound dramatic, but she wanted Audrey to put all thoughts of matchmaking out of her mind. She held her friend's gaze. "I'd rather be a nanny to ten ill-bred children for the rest of my life than a wife to the most gallant man you could find. I cannot, simply cannot do it again. I don't—I don't have it in m-me." Her voice broke and her shoulders slumped.

  "Of course not," Audrey murmured as she slipped her arm around Julianna. "Not yet, you don't."

  "Audrey—"

  "Let's not argue the point. Time will tell which one of us is right."

  Julianna leaned against her friend. "You must promise not to try to play matchmaker between me and the gentlemen of the ton."

  She expected her friend to argue, as she was prone to do, but Audrey nodded. "Of course I won't do that, dearest! I'm not a simpleton. Tell me what I can do to help?"

  "If you happen to know of a position that's open where the only qualification is that you are a lady of the ton then I daresay let me know about it," Julianna joked. When Audrey did not laugh, Julianna patted her friend on the arm. "I'm only joking, of course. I know such a position does not exist."

  A slight smiled pulled at Audrey's lips until it became a grin. "Darling, I think I may know of something."

  Julianna gaped. "Really? What is it?"

  "A position as a tutor with a friend of mine in desperate need. I think he will pay rather handsomely, and it will be a way for you to gain a reference if you do need to join the ranks."

  "But I'm not qualified to be a tutor."

  "You are perfectly qualified for the kind of lessons Mr. Wolverton requires."

  Julianna's pulse quickened in the most disconcerting way at the mention of the greyish, blue-eyed, easy-smiling gentleman she'd met in the library last night. "I cannot imagine what sort of lessons he might want." But she could imagine the sort of lessons he might give a lady based on his former mistress's words from last night.

  "Julianna, you're blushing."

  "Am I?" She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. "This room is stuffy, isn't it?"

  "If you say so." A slight, unnerving smirk pulled at Audrey's lips.

  Julianna resisted the urge to huff at her friend. Instead, she said as serenely as she could muster, "Exactly what sort of tutelage does Mr. Wolverton require?"

  "The kind that will ensnare him a proper wife for his very improper self."

  A wicked image filled Julianna's head of Mr. Wolverton on the stairs, introducing his wife to his scandalizing ways. The blush that had heated her cheeks swept across her neck and chest. Whatever was wrong with her? She inhaled a long, slow breath. "Do you mean to say he wants someone to tutor him on how to be a proper gentleman?"

  "Yes. Sounds dreadfully boring, doesn't it? I tried to talk him out of it, but he's rather insistent. You see, he has a young daughter, and he wants her to have a proper mother that will ease her way into Society."

  "Yes, I know about his daughter."

  "You know?" Audrey's voice held a tinge of wonder.

  Julianna nodded, enjoying the rare moment of shocking her very outrageous friend. "He mentioned her when we met, as well as the fact that he was looking for a wife. In fact, he jokingly proposed to me."

  "My, my." Audrey gave her a sly smile. "You are quite the Incomparable for a woman who doesn't even want a man again."

  Julianna scowled. "He was not serious."

  "If you say so."

  "Stop saying that. Every time you do, I feel as if you are placating me out loud but secretly don't agree at all with what I've said."

  "I agree with some of it, but we can hash out the particulars at a later date. Sin is expecting me home. Mr. Wolverton needs a proper woman of the ton to teach himself and his daughter how to be a proper gentleman and young lady. You have the exact qualifications to do that. He wants the instruction to occur at his home in Yarmouth, and as it so happens, Sin and I have a home there that we rarely visit. You could go there immediately with Liza, which would solve the problem of you needing somewhere new to stay, and you could tutor Mr. Wolverton and his daughter, which will provide you funds to live on. Of course, we don't keep a full staff at the house, but there is a butler and a cook, a married couple, that stay there just in case we decide to visit. What do you think?"

  Julianna thought Henry must be keeping an eye on her from up above and helping to answers her prayers. She swallowed. "I think it sounds perfect. Do you think Mr. Wolverton will hire me?"

  Audrey snorted. "I daresay he'll jump at the chance to employ you. He told me of a few of the interested candidates he's interviewed and they sounded dreadful. I'll send him a note and let him know you're coming. Say a week?"

  "Perfect. That will give me time to ready myself and Liza to leave. I don't suspect we'll ever be back to live here again, as it would be such a financial burden on David."

  Audrey squeezed Julianna's shoulder. "Are you sad?"

  She thought about how she felt for a moment, and then frowned. "Not as sad as I thought I'd be."

  "Then why are you frowning?"

  "Because it doesn't seem right to feel excited about leaving the home I shared with Henry. But there are just so man
y memories here, I cannot help but think a fresh start might be just the thing. I feel treacherous at the thought."

  Audrey sighed. "Darling, Henry would have wanted you to go on with life, not just for Liza but for yourself."

  Julianna shook her head as tears welled in her eyes. "No." The word was a choked whisper. "He did not want me to go on that way. Carry on for Liza, yes, but not with another man."

  "You cannot know such a thing," Audrey said in a tone one would use to scold a petulant child.

  Julianna clutched the material of her dress as she met her friend's gaze. "I can." She swallowed back the tears clogging her throat. "The last thing he ever said to me was, Never replace me, Julianna."

  "Blast." Audrey sat back with a fierce frown. "You may hate me for what I'm about to say, but Henry always was a selfish man."

  After Forever: Chapter Four

  One Week Later

  Yarmouth, England

  WHY WAS IT SO BLASTED HARD to find a qualified candidate to tutor his daughter? Nash cursed under his breath as the door closed behind the last, most categorically wrong candidate he'd interviewed yet. He'd given up on finding one person to help turn his daughter into a proper young lady and himself into a proper gentleman. That possibility seemed about as likely as Lavinia coming to her senses and actually wanting to participate in Maggie's life.

  Nash twitched at the thought. Now that he'd firmly closed the book on the chapter of life that included Lavinia, Maggie, and him possibly being a real family, he saw with the clarity of detachment that that novel would have been a fairy tale. A very bad one where the mother turned out to be wolf who ate her children. Lavinia's selfishness had saved him and Maggie, and he could mark guilt over not giving Maggie her real mother off his list of things to feel bad about. He'd tried to make them a family, and luckily, it hadn't worked.

  And on that note, he needed to continue trying to secure a proper tutor for Maggie. Nash yanked out a piece of foolscap to pen another, hopefully better, advertisement that would bring more qualified candidates to his doorstep. Before he could dip the quill in the ink, a loud knock sounded at his study door.