Rayne’s breath stalled mid-throat. Shadows seemed to creep out from the corners of the room. Julia’s face confirmed the truth. Suddenly, he understood just how far he’d pushed.
What I’d really like to do is to truss you up like this and then spend a very long, very leisurely day at play… Truss as in bind. Truss as in render immobile.
He stared at the dining table in horror.
“Your greatest fear, Julia?” Rayne found his voice. He’d been a monster. His heartbeat pounded in his temples. “Go with Markham and Clarissa. You don’t belong here.”
“You don’t want me to leave,” she insisted. “You said we’d learn as we go, remember?”
The drumming increased. “Persistence is your forte, not mine.”
“But I love you,” she said.
Lud. Did life always circle?
Horribly, he was thrust back into his worst moment—Markham wore the same furious expression while Julia stared at him with the same unbearably pleading look. Again, he was hot and cold at once. Disappointed in himself and angry he’d been thrust into this impossible position.
“Why?” he demanded. “I’ve never been the man you thought I was. I’m never going to be the man you think I can be.”
“You think I thought you good?” Her expression turned malevolent—a look she could have only learned from him. “Honorable?”
He brushed aside his hair. “Your astonishment makes my mistake obvious.”
At least she hadn’t laughed.
He hadn’t destroyed all her kindness.
She stalked over—five feet of erupting fury, barely reaching the middle of his chest. “If you make me go, pirates aren’t good enough for you!” She held her diamond ring in front of his face. “Let no man put asunder.”
His throat dried. He fisted his hands to keep from touching her face. “You never make anything easy, do you?”
“Who saved me when I almost froze?” she demanded.
“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have needed to be saved.”
“Who earned the respect of the residents of Periwinkle Gate?” she asked.
“Even the devil himself would do a favor for a friend.”
“I can’t force you to see, to understand, can I? I can’t carry us both on my own. You asked me if I’d given up on love. No—but, damn you to hell, Rayne, I’m about to.”
“Julia!” Markham exclaimed.
“Markham—I’m a married woman. I’ll speak how I like.”
Two thoughts coined together in his mind, twirling—his arousal, her deepest fear.
“What was your nightmare about?” he asked.
She paled. “I told you—daisies.”
“You had the nightmare?” Markham asked. “The one where you are frozen in the field?”
Frozen. Rayne closed his eyes. “Are you really afraid of carriages?”
“Not…precisely.”
“Then it is being confined.” He ran his hand through his hair again. “I just showed you who I am.” He opened his eyes. “Why don’t you believe?”
“I got in a carriage for you. The fear didn’t even occur to me. Because”—she threw up her hands—“love. Please, Rayne. Tell me you love me, too.”
His tongue grew heavy and thick in his mouth.
Of course he loved her. But if he told her, she would never leave. She’d bind herself to him, even if being with him would lead her straight into her own destruction.
Her shoulders fell. “You don’t, do you?”
“I do!” He couldn’t let her believe he didn’t. “I love you. That’s why I’m asking you to go.”
“If you can ask me to go, then you don’t love me at all.” She held her brow. “I need to sit.” She yanked out a chair, sat down, and immediately shot to her feet, cheeks burning as she rubbed her behind.
He fisted the hand that had spanked her, knowing exactly why she had leaped back to her feet.
Markham frowned at Julia, glanced down at her bare feet, and then to the stockings around the table legs, and then back to Rayne.
Rayne didn’t even brace for the punch.
The dull, thudding ache of impact spread across his jaw. Markham had hit him in the same exact place as Bromton.
Again. Horrible symmetry.
“Don’t.” Julia laid a hand on Markham’s arm. “He didn’t hurt me.”
“Didn’t he?” Markham asked.
She stared at Rayne, her eyes wide and accusing. “Not yet.”
“Let’s go, Julia,” Markham urged.
“Where?” Julia asked.
“I’ll take you to Katherine. She’s sick with worry.”
Julia winced, then turned back to Markham. “I’ll come with you…just give me a moment.”
Markham turned to his wife. “Are you coming with us, Clarissa?”
“If you don’t mind…” Clarissa glanced at her brother. “I think I’ll stay here awhile longer.”
Markham nodded. “I’ll return for you later. Julia—meet me downstairs.”
Julia’s warm, tiny hands circled Rayne’s wrists. “I hate carriages because my father drank gin—sometimes until he couldn’t walk or speak. He drank until he became his own destruction.” She closed her eyes, squeezing out the moisture gathered there. “You don’t confine me—you free me. But I won’t sit idly by while you destroy us both.” She sniffed. “Love should win, but it doesn’t always, does it?”
“I don’t know,” he choked out.
How could some amorphous emotion be strong enough to rescue a relic like the Grange? How could it be strong enough to rescue him?
Julia sent him a scathing expression and then headed for the stairs.
…
Rayne went to the window. He held on to the iron handles at the center of the sash with white-knuckled fists as the carriage pulled away.
Clarissa placed a hand on his back. “She’s not gone for good. She is simply giving you time to realize you’re wrong.”
“How do you know?” His voice cracked.
“Because she’s like her brother—and believe me, I’ve made a fine study of him. She’ll cool off, think things over, and realize that leaving you to make an ass of yourself isn’t her preferred plan.”
“You speak as if making an ass out of myself is a forgone conclusion.’
“Well, I can’t say for sure, of course, but so far, you’ve given me little reason to hope.”
Rayne slanted his sister a glance. “I told her I loved her, Clarissa. She didn’t believe me.”
“Apart from your—ahem—spirited marital relations, have you given Julia any reason to believe you love her?”
“Other than endowing her with my worldly goods?”
Clarissa snorted. “Generous of you. Especially when you know she’ll refuse every sixpence, if she leaves.”
He turned around and leaned against the wall. “She would, wouldn’t she?”
From the start, she’d wanted him. Not his title. Not his property. Just him.
What a royal ass he’d been, with his mocking bow and “at your service.”
He’d been prepared for her admiration that first meeting. He’d counted on her fascination, in fact. Arrogance on his part, but honest conceit.
He was tall, titled, and his presence had elicited a sufficient number of fan-covered giggles for him to know most women liked his look.
What he’d not expected was defiant challenge…direct provocation with a sickle-sharp, lustful edge. An edge their spirited couplings had satiated, for brief periods, but hadn’t dulled in the least.
“Well, brother dearest.” Clarissa picked up the rent stockings. “I’ll say this—you do know how to make a scene. Wish I’d noticed these before Markham, of course.”
“Markham,” he gritted out, “shouldn’t h
ave interfered.”
“Shouldn’t he?”
“Are you going to answer every question with a question?”
She chuckled. “A little habit I picked up from my husband, I’m afraid. Very useful when leading recalcitrant codgers to the truth. Besides, Markham wouldn’t be the man I love if he weren’t devoted to his family.”
He sighed. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble between you and Markham.”
She rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t cause trouble between us if you tried. Just like he can’t cause any trouble between you and Julia that you don’t allow.”
He sent her a brooding look.
“Do you want to know what I’d suggest?” Clarissa asked.
“Either way, you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” She smiled. “Markham and I have agreed to stay until Miss Watson’s wedding, which gives you several weeks to convince Markham his sister is safe, happy, and—dare I say—loved. And you can start tonight.”
“How?”
“By going to Bromton Castle.”
He gazed out the window, uneasy. “What do you mean?”
“I understand you haven’t been there since you arrived home.” She gentled her voice. “Badly done. You can’t separate Julia from Katherine and Markham any more than you can cease being my brother…or Bromton’s friend.”
His expression hardened. “Bromton broke his promise to you.”
“And what has been the result? He’s happy. I’m happy. I wager you could be happy, too. If you can swallow a little of that pride.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ll give your opinion due consideration while I prepare your rooms.”
“Oh!” She shook her head. “I don’t intend to stay here!”
“You see? Even you can’t bear this place.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m still on my honeymoon. I prefer not to be under my brother’s roof. And I should think you’d feel the same. I’m not staying at the Castle, either. Bromton has graciously lent us the gatehouse.”
“The gatehouse? There’s little more to the gatehouse than a meager kitchen and a bed.”
Clarissa raised her brows. “Are you afraid I can’t take care of my husband?”
“Rather the other way around.”
“You’re old-fashioned, Rayne. Do you think you are the only one who can make clever use of a pair of stockings?” She tapped her chin. “I wonder if the predilection runs in the family.”
“No.” He narrowed his eyes. “Simply no.”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t about to discuss details, you know. A lady keeps her secrets.” She smoothed the lapels of his coat and then examined his jaw. “I don’t suppose you’ve filled the icehouse?”
Rayne just lifted his brow.
“Didn’t think so,” Clarissa replied.
“I didn’t mean to hurt Julia.”
“Didn’t you listen to her? You haven’t. Yet. Really, Rayne. Do you think anyone would go through all the trouble Julia went through if they hadn’t made up their mind? She’s chosen you. She wants to build a life with you here.”
Julia had repeatedly said no regrets, and— You don’t confine me, you free me.
“But how?” he threw his arms wide. “How am I supposed to turn this ruin into anything remotely resembling Southford?”
Clarissa shrugged. “You aren’t, and you can’t. You are simply supposed to learn to love the Grange—and your wife—the best you can. And you have talent, an education, income, and good reason—your wife—to make this place your own. Why shouldn’t you succeed?” She glanced around. “Besides, it’s not hopeless, I daresay. Without father’s dreary presence and with some attention, the place could have some charm. Part playhouse, part medieval castle.”
He smiled slowly. “Do you remember taking refuge in the secret room?”
“That’s right!” Clarissa brightened. “The Grange does have a secret room. What did Markham say they were called? Priest holes. The fake one in Southford was a favorite of Julia’s—and I bet the one here is for real.” She glanced around the room and smiled. “You are going to change this place, aren’t you? I can almost hear the echo of children’s laughter…”
He closed one eye. “They’ve turned you, haven’t they?”
“Who?”
“The Stanley siblings.” He scowled. “They turn everyone. You’ve gone maudlin.”
“I suppose I have. First Bromton, then me…” She smiled teasingly. “What makes you think you are strong enough to resist? Besides, you can use some light in your life.”
“What if I fail?” He swallowed, hardly believing he’d spoken his fear. “What if I was meant to be alone?”
“What a male thing to say,” she scoffed. “No one is meant to be alone. Enjoy solitude any time you wish, but we’re all human…our essence can only be found in what we are to the people we love—who love us.”
He turned back to the window, spotting the turrets of Bromton Castle in the distance. He thought of Clarissa’s wedding—of the way the Stanley family had huddled together just after the ceremony. He remembered the terrible feeling of standing apart.
“You know,” he said pensively, “after your wedding, a little boy tried to give Julia a coin he’d collected. She closed his hand back over his coin and kissed him instead.” He frowned. “Why would I remember that?”
Because—internally, he answered his own question—he’d longed for her to look at him with such care and affection. And now she did. Every day.
“I’ve no idea. But do you know what I remember about you from my wedding?” Clarissa asked. “You choosing the shadows at the back of the church instead of joining your family in the vestry. A family”—she wrinkled her nose—“who loves you.”
“For no good reason.”
“Family needn’t a reason at all…though”—she smiled—“it would be nice if you supplied one every now and again.”
Just what kind of reason was he supposed to supply?
He stalked over to the table, pulled out a chair, and dropped down. All he had was imagination—and mutual desire.
He folded the napkins and then set them aside to glance about the room.
Julia had been right. The atmosphere in the dining hall had, in fact, improved. He suspected he’d be able to think of little else, now. Certainly not the awkward occasions he’d been trotted down from the nursery to be presented—only to have his father barely glance up from his food.
But if he wanted to make this a home, he needed to do more than toff his wife in inappropriate ways in every room or work without ceasing as he’d done this past week. He needed to swallow his pride. He needed to ask for help.
The Grange would always be half fortification. He would always be night to her light. But—a ray of sun settled across the table—dusk was the most beautiful time of day.
And the most beautiful part of the estate?
He focused on Clarissa. “The church.”
She snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re distressed enough to take orders!”
“Of course not.” If he tried, he’d probably combust before he made it to ordination. “Mrs. Wheeling told me Julia loved the church. She pored over the dusty vestry books, looking misty and sentimental. I could reopen the church. Not just reopen, but…” He sat straight. “I have an idea…but I’ll need assistance.”
She held out her hand. “Just ask. That’s all you’ve ever needed to do.”
He clasped his sister’s hand in his own. “Will you come with me to Bromton Castle?”
“You’ll make things right with Bromton, then? With Markham?”
“I will do what I can.”
He had chosen light.
He had chosen Julia.
Chapter Nineteen
Julia sat within the circle of her sister’s embrace
and cried. Katherine—sweet Katherine—her scent conjured untold comfort. For every scowl, every scold, Katherine had always provided equally strong words of encouragement.
To Julia, the worst thing Markham had said today was that she’d broken Katherine’s heart. However, Katherine didn’t appear broken at all. In fact, the moment Julia and Markham had arrived, Katherine had simply held out her arms.
Slowly, Julia sat up. Love that bared and believed all things…she hadn’t been born with an understanding of such love, had she? She’d been bewildered and confused by her father. Still, she’d learned to love from her siblings.
From their devotion…even when she’d deeply disappointed them.
Especially when she’d disappointed them.
“I’m so sorry.” She sniffed. “You must be terribly angry.”
“Angry? No.” Katherine wiped Julia’s cheeks with a clean handkerchief. “I do wish you’d waited. I’d thought I’d attend you on your wedding someday.” She lifted her brows. “And prepared you for what was to come.”
Julia chuckled half-heartedly. “I could have done with some preparation.” Although, could anything have prepared her for Rayne?
Katherine brushed the hair from her face. “Was he good to you? I mean…”
“I understand what you’re asking.” Julia folded her hands in her lap. “He was very good. You wouldn’t believe how gentle.”
“Rayne? Gentle?”
Julia nodded. Her heart panged as she thought of the way he’d held himself still in her pain, murmuring words of comfort. She couldn’t have asked for a kinder introduction.
“I’m grateful for your sake.” Katherine sighed. “I must say, I do find it hard to believe. Giles assured me I’d yet to see him at his best. But what I feel doesn’t matter if you have seen him at his best.”
She thought of the way he’d held her after her nightmare. “His best”—she thought of the blazing anger in his eyes her first night as his footman—“his worst”—she thought of his face in deep, exhausted sleep—“and just about everything in between.”
Katherine nodded. “I had hoped for someone…easier for you. But you didn’t, did you?”
Diamond in the Rogue Page 24
