“Just trust in me, Juliana,” he whispered as he drew her into his arms. Outside the pounding began on the door. “Trust in me.”
Chapter One
1818
“You should marry. I find that it suits me.”
Landon clenched his drink in his fist and tried to rein in the sudden emotion that rippled through his body like a boulder had been thrown into a calm lake. After five long years, he somehow expected those words wouldn’t effect him. They always did.
And since he was a respected, well-liked, powerful man of a certain age, those words were said to him more and more often. By his mother. His friends.
And currently, his brother, Lucius Hawkins. Hawk.
Landon sighed as he looked Hawk up and down. His brother’s words were true. Married life, something Hawk had entered less than a year before, did suit him.
And Landon hated him for it.
But he smiled in bland acceptance of his brother’s suggestion. After all, Hawk didn’t know the truth. Hawk didn’t know about Juliana. In Landon’s mind, he was already married. Her father’s lies, her lies, had allowed her to get an annulment all those years ago, but Landon knew the truth.
Downing his drink in one swig, he turned back to Hawk. Damn, but his brother looked happy. Content. Fulfilled. He would never experience the pain of loss as Landon had. Hawk’s wife, Bianca would never leave him. She loved him too much. She would fight for him if she had to. Perhaps even die for him.
“Is something wrong?” Hawk asked, cocking his head. “You look sick.”
“Simply tired from my travels,” Landon explained.
He tried to make his voice friendly. He and Hawk had been on shaky ground for a long time. Only in the past six months or so had they begun to patch a relationship long damaged by anger, misunderstanding and disappointment. He had let his fury over Juliana’s deception ruin enough things in his life. He wouldn’t let it ruin this wary reconciliation with his only brother.
“And well you should be,” came a feminine voice from the door. Bianca entered the room with a wide smile. A smile that turned into something a little secret and deeply sensual whenever she turned it on her husband. And Hawk’s eyes lit up with the same light. A light of passion, desire, love, acceptance. Optimism.
Landon turned away, fighting to keep from reverting to anger. Rage. Those emotions were his safety net, but he was trying, trying not to turn to them as often. It had been five bloody years. It was time to get over this.
Easier to say than do.
“I cannot believe you rode so hard to London,” Bianca continued as she poured herself a snifter of port. She swirled the blood red liquid in the glass as she spoke. “You made excellent time, but you must be rung out completely. You should go to Hawkins House early tonight. Sleep. Let yourself rest. We understand, don’t we, Love?”
Hawk looked at his wife as if she had said the most brilliant thing in the history of the Empire. Landon realized with sickening clarity that his sister-in-law wanted to be alone with her husband as much as she worried for Landon’s health.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Landon said on a sigh as he downed the rest of his drink in one burning swig. He had a feeling the bottle would be his companion the rest of the night. It often was when thoughts of Juliana invaded his mind. “I only have a few days before I meet with the Prime Minister. I want to be rested.”
Hawk nodded, then his eyes narrowed. “You will… you will come back, won’t you?” He stepped closer. “I admit that I missed talking to you while you were in the country.”
Landon’s anger faded, replaced by something else. Something warmer and unexpected. Something he hadn’t thought he’d feel when it came to Hawk. Yet he did.
“Yes. Of course. In fact, you and Bianca will join me at Hawkins House before the Cresterton ball. We can have supper together. How will that suit you?”
Hawk’s face broke into a grin and Bianca beamed. “Yes. We would like that.”
Landon set his drink aside and nodded to Bianca and his brother. “Very good. I’ll expect you around eight. Good evening.”
He headed for the door as they said their goodbyes, but the moment he was alone on the front step, facing his empty carriage and his equally empty home when he arrived there, his smile fell. Empty. Yes, that described his life to a tea.
He got into the carriage and settled back as it began to move. He hated when his thoughts turned so maudlin. When he couldn’t get her out of his head. Why couldn’t he forget her after all this time? Why couldn’t he get it through his skull that she had chosen to pretend that their marriage had never happened and given herself to another man at her father’s bidding? Why couldn’t he get passed that Juliana hadn’t trusted him enough to fight for their love?
“Our love,” he spat, laughing at himself, though he found no humor in the situation, even with the benefit of years between them.
Clearly there had been no love on her part. And over time, his love had soured. Twisted. Turned to anger. Sometimes even veered toward hate. It colored everything in his life. And forced him to work harder, longer, be driven. People respected him for that, but if they knew the truth, they wouldn’t think he was so strong.
The carriage pulled to a stop outside his home on St. James Street. Landon looked up in surprise. He’d been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized the journey had passed. Well, it was time to go inside and drown those thoughts away. First a bottle of gin. Then perhaps another of sherry. By then he’d be good and sauced and hopefully he would sleep without dreaming of Juliana’s mouth. Her hair. Her touch. Her everything.
He went to his door and sighed as it opened before he even lifted his hand to the knob. Trust Winston to be waiting, even though Landon was early.
“Good evening, sir,” he said as he took Landon’s hat, gloves and coat in turn.
“Winston. Any messages?”
Landon had only been in London for a few hours, but he was sure his arrival was known. There were several issues to be discussed amongst his political circles and he wasn’t surprised when Winston retrieved a small stack of cards and messages from the silver platter beside the door.
“And you have a visitor, sir, as well.”
Landon looked up from a missive sealed with the Prince’s mark. “I had a visitor?”
“No, sir. You have one presently.”
“Right now?” Landon repeated, surprised. He hadn’t invited anyone tonight since he knew he would be dining with Hawk and Bianca.
“Yes. I tried to tell the lady that you would not return until very late, but she was quite insistent.” His butler gave him a look, one that said the lady had forced herself in and might not have been particularly ladylike about it.
“A lady?” Landon cocked his head. This mystery grew more fascinating by the moment. “Who?”
“The Duchess of Breckinhill, sir,” Winston said, completely unaware that he had just plucked Landon’s heart from his chest and ground it beneath his heel.
Landon reeled back. “Juliana? Juliana is here?”
***
“Breathe,” Juliana told herself as she paced around Landon’s front parlor. “Just breathe.”
Damn it to hell, that wasn’t working. She couldn’t breathe. She was surprised she could walk considering how utterly terrified she was. Terrified and filled with wild anticipation in equal measure. Landon. Landon would be here soon.
She fisted her hands as she went to the window and stared out at the dark gardens below. All she could see were shadows, but it didn’t matter. The full, glorious sun could be shining down and she wouldn’t have seen anything more than she could now. Her thoughts kept her from attending to anything around her too closely.
The door creaked and she tensed, even though she knew it was likely only Landon’s stodgy butler to insist, once again, that his master would be out all night.
Where was he when he’d only just arrived in London? With his political cronies? With his family?
Perhaps with some woman. She shivered at that thought. Just because he never had any public trysts didn’t mean he wasn’t having a secret affair. A man of his passions…
No, she couldn’t think of his passions. That wasn’t why she was here, despite how her body quickened, flushed when she thought of him.
“Juliana?”
Against her will, Juliana spun on the voice at the door. And suddenly, he was there. Not one of her many fantasies. Not a dream. But him. Landon Hawkins.
He looked so much the same, yet so different. The intervening years had broadened his shoulders, angled his face. His dark hair was a little longer, too. She had seen him from across the room a few times, very few since she had avoided any place where he might be and always fled before she got too near. But now he was within a few steps of her. Looking directly at her. And something was very different about him.
He was still the love of her life.
But he despised her. She saw it in his gray eyes. She saw it in the way he clutched the doorframe with white knuckles. The way his face was taut and tense with anger and other equally powerful emotions. She heard it in the way he spat her name as if it was a curse.
“Landon,” she breathed. It was a stupid thing to say. She should have said something better than just his name, but for the moment that was the only thing she could remember. That and the images of every time he’d touched her, loved her.
He didn’t step into the room further. He didn’t shut the door to give them privacy.
“I’m sorry,” he said, straightening up as he gathered his composure. “I should call you Your Grace, shouldn’t I?”
Juliana flinched. “M-My husband is dead, surely you heard.”
His eyes widened and darkened from light gray to stormy, dangerous seas. She remembered what that meant. Landon’s eyes only darkened with two emotions. Desire. And hatred.
Somehow she doubted it was desire that made him tremble.
He stepped inside, slamming the door with such a loud bang that she winced. He stalked toward her in three long steps and reached for her. She readied herself for his touch, but it didn’t come. Just before he caught her arms, he stopped.
His breathing came short. His eyes wild. And then he said, “Your husband isn’t dead, Juliana. We both know full well that you are looking at him.”
She turned away, unable to stare at him when he had such deep, abiding rage in his eyes. Knowing that the anger was directed entirely toward her. And fully deserved. She just hadn’t expected him to still care so much after so long.
The knowledge gave her a very brief, but equally powerful, thrill.
“Our marriage was annulled,” she whispered, looking at the carpet below her feet instead of him.
“On false pretences,” he said, his voice dangerously, deceptively quiet.
She heard the strong emotion coursing through every word and knew it wouldn’t take much for him to explode. He would never hurt her, she knew that even now. Landon could never lay a finger on her, unlike her late husband. Unlike her father. He wasn’t that kind of man.
But she still shuddered to think what the results of his pent up rage would be. So she didn’t answer his statement.
And that made it worse. He didn’t touch her, though he easily could have grasped her arm and turned her to face him. Instead, he walked around so that she was looking at him again.
“You lied to the vicar. You told him you were forced to wed me and that our marriage was never consummated. You even claimed that you were not in your right mind when you said your vows. You lied, Juliana and that is the only reason you were granted an annulment.”
She shut her eyes. God, it hurt to see him. To be so close that she could smell the spicy scent of his skin. He smelled the same. Still a little exotic. She would forever associate that smell with love and laughter and powerful passion.
“That may be so,” she said, tilting her chin up. “But only you and I know that. In the eyes of the law, we are no longer married. In fact, we never were.”
Again, his hand stirred at his side and again she waited for him to grasp her arms, to pull her closer. Yet he wouldn’t allow himself to touch her. She felt him battling with the desire to do so with every fiber of his being. And though she knew the touch would be harsh, she longed for it. But he denied her.
“The eyes of the law are not what matter. In the eyes of God and in my eyes, you are my wife. My faithless, lying wife.”
He spun away, stalking the room like a lion pent up in a cage for far too long. His muscles all but rippled with indignation beneath his crisp shirt and well-tailored jacket. And his boots made heavy, angry foot falls with each step.
“Landon-” she began, longing to explain, though the reasons for what she had done all those years ago were inexplicable. Even to herself. Telling him why wouldn’t make things any better. It would only result in both of them having to live with the bitter truth. It was hard enough to do that on her own. She couldn’t put Landon in that position. She’d almost rather live with his scorn.
He cut her off, his voice low and harsh, but no longer angry. Just weary. “Why are you here, Juliana?”
She hesitated. She had her own questions about the virtue of being here, but she had no choice. “I came here because-because I need your help, Landon.”
He barked out a harsh laugh and it was the ugliest sound she’d ever heard. She winced despite her efforts not to let him know how deeply his contempt cut her.
“You need my help?” he repeated as he leaned back on the arm of a nearby chair and folded his arms. “Well, that is certainly intriguing.”
She drew in a sharp breath and forced herself to continue with her explanation. “Do you remember my younger sister?”
For a moment, he only stared at her and she thought he might simply throw her out of the house without hearing her plea. Her hands began to tremble with fear that he would do just that. Where would she go then? Who would help her?
But then he nodded. “Yes. Evelyn.”
Tears pricked behind Juliana’s eyes, but she blinked them back with all her might. She would not cry in front of Landon. She would not, no matter how much she wanted to throw herself into his arms.
“She ismissing,” she choked out.
Landon’s eyes narrowed. “Missing?” he repeated. “Or did your father sell her to settle a debt?”
He remembered everything too well. Juliana’s knees began to tremble and she sank into the nearest chair. Covering her eyes, she willed herself to remain calm. It was difficult, but falling apart wouldn’t help Evelyn. And it certainly wouldn’t convince Landon to assist her.
“Yes, my father sold her.” She sighed, never looking up, but feeling Landon’s stare burn through her. “His gambling has increased recently. Mostly with one small group of men. At first he won, won quite a bit, actually.”
“Every man hits a lucky streak, even your father,” Landon scoffed.
She nodded. The lucky times fed her father’s need to game all the more when he started to lose. She hated them even though he bought more things for her and Evelyn when fortune was one his side.
“But then someone started calling in his debts and my father grew desperate. He wagered more and more to pay back what he owed and lost more and more in the process. He won’t tell me to whom he sold my sister, where they are or even for how long he made a bargain for the blackguard to keep her… but one of the men in his circle has Evelyn. And I-I-”
She had tried to remain strong for her sister’s sake. For two days, she’d fought to keep her composure as she questioned servants and looked through her father’s paperwork, but now the severity of the situation overwhelmed her. When she thought of Evelyn, alone and frightened with some bastard who was probably raping her even as Juliana sat there helpless…
A sob broke past her throat. She tried to bite back a second, but she couldn’t. Tears began to fall down her cheeks, silent and hot against her cold skin.
“Juliana,” Landon whi
spered.
Her eyes darted up at the gentle, soothing tone of his voice. He hadn’t touched her to comfort her, but his voice was so kind. So sweet. So… Landon. The Landon of five years ago who had vowed to protect her.
Their eyes met and for a moment she was the girl he had married and he was the man who still loved her. But when she blinked, the illusion was gone and the hardness returned to his stare.
“And why did you come to me?” he asked, his tone cold and even again.
She shivered as she swiped at the tears. Slowly, she stood. This was no time to waver. “Because you are powerful, Landon. You have connections my family couldn’t dream of. I heard how you intervened when Hawk’s wife was missing. You put the force of the entire city into finding her.”
“There are others who could do that for you.”
She dipped her head. “If word of this got out… Evelyn would be ruined. The details would destroy her, just as much as whatever she is going through now is probably destroying her. And I-I know that you won’t tell anyone about her shame.”
He cocked his head, curiosity lighting in his stare. “Why do you think I wouldn’t tell anyone?”
“Because you never told anyone about our marriage, even though you could have ruined me. And you despise me. I don’t think you’d hurt Evelyn if you wouldn’t hurt me. She is innocent.”
He pushed off the chair arm and walked to the window where she had been standing when he entered the room. He looked outside with eyes just as unseeing as hers had been.
“I never told anyone about our marriage because it would have hurt me as much as it would hurt you,” he said softly.
She didn’t respond. The barb was meant to hurt her, but she couldn’t allow herself to be hurt. She needed him to help Evelyn. She had to endure whatever punishment he doled out. She would to protect her sister.
God help her, she had done far worse in the past.
“Will you assist me? Please.”
***
Perhaps it was because she said please. Or perhaps it was because the last time she said that word, it was gasped out in passion as she begged him to give her release from sensual torment. But when Landon looked at Juliana, ready to refuse her outrageous demand, something in him cracked.
Jess Michaels Page 16
