by Jenna Jaxon
As if she didn’t feel idiotic enough already.
That decided it.
She stood up and blindly walked toward the curtain at the back of her box. Tears blurred her vision, but frustration was better than the idea that she would be sitting there alone all night.
She stumbled out into the cold night air and managed to hail a hackney. Once inside, she felt she could breathe a bit easier, but even then, she was too restless to go home. Tapping on the roof, she gave the driver her new location. He looked at her strangely, but then he shrugged and deposited her at the edge of Hyde Park. She threw a pound note at him, causing him to grin widely, before she stepped to the ground.
The hackney rattled off, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t asked him to wait because she didn’t honestly know how long she would need to walk before she calmed down enough to go to sleep. Considering the way she felt, she would likely be here all night.
Mena hugged herself and set out, putting one foot in front of the other. When she’d been a child back in Kent, she had found a new perspective just by taking a long walk. It went far to restore one’s soul.
It was on one such ramble that she’d met Julian for the first time.
God, would she never be free of him?
That was the real reason that she’d run from the theatre tonight. She’d felt she was betraying Julian by meeting this mysterious man.
And she knew her heart would break if it turned out that it wasn’t him. Call her a coward, but she just couldn’t deal with another devastating loss of that magnitude. Not now. And not when it involved Julian.
She sank down onto a bench. She had to get ahold of herself.
“Where the hell have you been?”
The sharp demand instantly sent Mena to her feet. Julian strode toward her, his greatcoat flying out behind him with each step. However, it was the furious scowl on his face that held her attention. “What…are you doing here?” she breathed.
“I might ask you the same damn thing,” he said harshly. “I thought you were going to the theatre tonight.”
“Did Marigold tell you?” She shook her head. “I don’t know why she thinks she needs to interfere with our relationship—”
He crossed his arms and glared at her. “And what exactly is that, Mena? I’m a bit confused myself.”
“And you think I’m not?” Her voice sounded shrill, so she forced herself to calm. “I was at the theatre tonight. I was supposed to meet my secret admirer at midnight, but…” She shrugged helplessly.
“What happened, Mena?”
“I couldn’t do it!” she said in exasperation. “I felt as though I was…betraying you somehow, which is absolutely ridiculous, because we are nothing more than lovers—”
“Do you truly believe that?” he asked softly.
“What else am I expected to believe?” she countered. “You’ve never once said anything that might lead me to imagine—”
“What if I said I loved you?” he cut in. “What would you say to that?”
Mena felt her mouth fall open. “Do you?”
He scoffed. “Didn’t I just say so?”
“Well, yes, but…” She sighed.
“Don’t you believe me?”
“I…don’t know.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know why you’re in London, what your life has been like for the past twenty years…”
“Does it really matter?” he asked. “Rest assured, I don’t have a secret wife or a bevy of children back in America. The rest is inconsequential.”
“But we barely know each other, Julian!” she cried.
“I know all I need to know about you, Mena. Anything else can be learned in time.”
She shook her head. “It’s too fast…”
He stilled. “Does that mean you don’t feel the same?”
She opened her mouth, but the words she yearned to say stuck in her throat.
His jaw worked as the silence stretched between them. “I see.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I guess there’s nothing else to say.”
He was some distance away before she finally gathered enough nerve to call out, “Julian, wait!”
But it was too late. He was gone.
Mena knew she had made a terrible mistake, so she quickly hailed down another hackney. She had no idea where Julian might be staying, so instead, she had the driver take her to Marigold’s residence. Since he was a friend to Robbie, her son-in-law might know where Julian could be found.
This time she had the driver wait while she ran up the steps to her daughter’s townhouse. She pounded frantically on the door, until the butler finally answered the door in his nightgown and cap. “Lady Lipscomb?” He blinked in surprise, although he held the door open for her.
She immediately went inside, but when she was about to ask for her son-in-law, Mari and Robbie appeared at the top of the steps leading to the second floor, dressed in their nightclothes. “Mama?” Marigold’s concerned voice floated down the stairs, and Mena instantly realized how foolish she’d been to come here and unnecessarily upset her pregnant daughter. Had she ever been so selfish?
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Mari flew down the steps and embraced her mother.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. It’s just that Julian and I had an argument, and I didn’t know how to find him, and I was hoping that Robbie might be able to tell me his address so that I can apologize and tell him that I do love him…”
“Mama, you’re rambling.” Marigold wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you come into the parlor? I’ll get you a cup of tea…”
Mena shook her head. “No. It was wrong of me to disrupt you. Forgive me, I’ll just head home now.”
“Marigold’s right.” Her husband stepped forward. “You need to calm down first.”
“But I have a hackney waiting—”
“I’ll send him on his way while you and Mari head to the parlor.”
As he threw on his greatcoat and walked out the door to dispense with her driver, Marigold led Mena to the cheery parlor where a fire still flickered in the grate. She had been here more times than she could count, but the calming shades of blue and cream never failed to relax her.
Mena sat down with a trembling sigh. She still gripped her mask and her reticule, but now she tossed them beside her on the settee. “One would think at my age that I would have enough sense not to ruin one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”
Marigold tilted her head where she sat on her other side. “Julian?” she guessed accurately.
“Yes.”
“What happened tonight?”
“Well, I went to the opera.” That part was easy enough to tell. “I had the best seat that one could wish for, but once the performance started, I felt as if a wave of guilt washed over me. Here I was, waiting for some strange man to come claim me, and yet, all I could picture was Julian.”
Her daughter frowned. “He wasn’t there?”
Mena shook her head. “Not that I saw, but then I didn’t stay long. I went to the park and thought a walk would help to clear my thoughts. That’s where Julian found me. He demanded to know what I was doing and—” She broke off and swallowed hard then added softly, “He claims he loves me, Mari.”
“That certainly can’t be what’s wrong. I know that you feel the same.”
“I do, but that’s the problem. He scares me.” She clenched her fists. “No, that came out wrong. What he makes me feel scares me.” She turned her head to regard her daughter. “I don’t think I have it in me to lose someone else that I love.”
Marigold reached out and squeezed her hand. “But that’s the risk we all take when we give our heart to someone. We might get hurt, but that doesn’t mean we should give up on it altogether.” She gentled her tone even further. “Julian cares for you a great deal. I know he would make a good husband. But you have to give him — and you — that chance.”
Mena smiled. “Since when did you become more intell
igent than your mother?”
“Since I didn’t let the past haunt me, and I started to look forward to the future.”
“I can’t believe that there is enough love in my heart for Julian, for you take up a large part of it.”
Her daughter’s eyes misted. “I’ll always be here for you, Mama. No matter what.” Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed the hour.
Mena glanced at the clock to see that it read three in the morning. “Merry Christmas, Marigold.”
“Merry Christmas, Mama.”
DAY TWELVE
Mena refused Marigold and Robbie’s offer to spend the night, since she only lived a few blocks away. She’d already inconvenienced them enough, she explained, and besides, her own servants would be concerned if she never made it home. She also refused the offer of their carriage, saying that a hackney would be sufficient transportation, as it had brought her there in the first place.
By the time she made it home, Mena was so exhausted that she didn’t even bother to change, but fell on her bed fully dressed in her royal blue gown. Even though she was exhausted, she slept only a few hours before she woke up just after dawn. Her maid’s expression said that she was surprised to see her up and about so early, although she didn’t say anything when Mena requested a bath.
Once she was dressed in a simple green day dress, with her hair pulled back into a matronly bun, Mena descended the stairs. Whether or not her heart bled for Julian this morning, she forced herself to push him from her mind, for there was work to be done. She was hosting Christmas dinner that evening for Marigold and Robbie, as well as her daughter’s in-laws. Since it was the first year Robbie and his parents would be joining them, she wanted it all to go off without a hitch. She didn’t have time to grieve over Julian’s loss or lament the fact that her admirer would forever be unknown because she’d been too much of a coward to meet him.
Mena squared her shoulders and went down to the kitchens to make sure Cook had all the preparations required for the meal that night. Once she was assured all was well, she went to corner Anders about the decorations, but as usual, he had things well organized. Two footmen were already starting to weave greenery through the staircase railings, with mistletoe and holly berries scattered throughout. The scent of laurel tingled Mena’s nose. Normally that was all it took to get her engaged in the Christmas spirit, but unfortunately, she couldn’t manage to summon the appropriate joy.
Mena set her hands on her hips and surveyed the work going on about her. Everything was running smoothly, so in essence, she had nothing left to do. The attic was finished, the library was being restocked as her book orders had arrived, and even Laurence’s chamber had been cleared and renovations were beginning to take place. She’d already decided to redo the parlor, but only after the holidays were over.
So that left only one more room on her list of projects. She had intended to wait for warmer weather for it as well, but since there was no time like the present…
Mena rolled up her sleeves and walked toward the back of the house where the small, glass-enclosed conservatory was located. It took a bit of a struggle to push open the door with its rusty hinges, but she finally gained her way inside. The first thing she noticed was the musty scent of earth and old weeds. The unpleasant odor nearly caused her to regret her decision to start work now, but she was determined to do something, rather than stew in her own regrets all day.
Besides, she rather thought about starting a small, flower garden this spring, so it would have to be cleared out at some point. It was a shame that she had let it fall into such disrepair in the first place, but after Jacob’s death, she’d had little interest in anything, especially nurturing a new, healthy life. The day he died, she’d shut the door and kept it closed with firm instructions that it was to remain untouched.
And she’d kept that vow. Until today.
Three hours passed before Mena finally stood and stretched her aching back muscles. She’d been crouched down all morning, gathering up decaying plants and sending them to the rubbish bin, and then scrubbing the floor. All she had left to do was wipe down the windows and then it was time to haul in new soil, planter boxes…
A bead of perspiration trailed down her forehead, so she lifted her arm to wipe it away — just as a familiar voice broke the silence. “You’ve been quite busy today, I see.”
Mena spun around to spy Julian lounging against the doorway, his green eyes watching her steadily.
She turned and busied herself with tidying up a flowerpot. “I really must speak with Anders about letting strangers into my house without warning.”
“I’m afraid the poor man didn’t have much choice. I rather bullied my way inside.”
Mena wondered if he might have been serious, but when she glanced at him, his eyes were dancing with amusement. The sight only drove the knife deeper into her heart. She took a deep breath, her chest aching from the pain. After last night, she wasn’t sure how to act around him. Or even what to say.
Last night she’d been willing to sell her soul for just a few minutes of his time, so that she might tell him how she felt. But with the clear light of day, those mischievous doubts had returned.
After a brief pause, he asked, “Are you going to ask what I’m doing here?”
Mena frowned lightly. “I imagine you’re here to tell me that your business is concluded and you’re on your way back to America.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re wrong. I’m not going anywhere.”
Mena cast her gaze at the floor.
“I heard that you went to Robbie’s townhouse last night.”
“I did,” she admitted.
“Why?”
She sighed. “I had something to tell you.”
“And you don’t any longer?”
She didn’t reply.
“Mena, please. Look at me.”
She slowly lifted her eyes.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” He scoffed. “Actually, I haven’t been honest at all.”
She remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
He shoved a hand through his hair. “I was the one you were waiting to see at the opera last night, Mena. When I arrived, only to see you leaving in a hackney, I felt…” His throat worked convulsively. “Devastated.” He shook his head. “Then when I confronted you at the park, you seemed so…detached that I wasn’t sure I would ever win your love.” He stared at her, his green eyes bright. “You may not know this, but years ago, back in Kent, I went to your father to ask for your hand. He rejected my suit, claiming that not only had you been promised to another but that I had nothing to recommend me. I was only a vicar’s son, my father the youngest son of a baronet. I would never come into a title, while you would marry an earl. Right then, I knew that the only way I would have a chance to marry you was if I proved my worth.”
He clenched his jaw, as if the memory was still raw. “So I left and went to America. It took me a while to gain my feet, but once I did, I became rather successful. I invested in various shipping companies and eventually started my own business. By the time I felt I was invested enough, I wrote to your father, but he told me that it was too late. Two months earlier, you’d married Lord Lipscomb.”
His voice lowered. “Even though you were gone, I never stopped loving you. It was why I never married, although I did have one mistress that I might have wed, if we’d been given the chance.” Again, he swallowed heavily. “She died of typhoid fever the same year Laurence did. She was five months pregnant with our child.” He shook his head. “A year later I heard your son was one of the casualties of the war with Napoleon. I wanted to be here to comfort you, but we’d been apart for more than twenty years. Back in Kent we’d been friends, but I wasn’t sure how you would feel about me now.”
“So what brought you back to England?” Mena asked softly.
“The future,” Julian murmured. “The rail system was starting to take off here, but there were still doubts and rese
rvations about doing the same in America, so I was sent here to investigate the matter, to convince our investors that it was worth taking the risk. It was only after my business contact in England invited me over to his house for dinner one night, and I met his wife, did I realize that the second chance I’d always wanted had just been given to me, so I came up with a plan to woo the woman I’d always loved.”
“My secret admirer,” Mena murmured, as her heart filled with joy.
Julian grinned. “I don’t suppose it’s a secret any longer.”
“I’m glad,” Mena’s lower lip trembled. “Oh, Julian.” Her eyes started to mist. “You can’t imagine how these past few days have brought new meaning to my life.” She shook her head. “And I’m not speaking of the gifts. As wonderful as they have been, all of it was unnecessary because you are the one who breathed hope back into me. After Jacob died, I was an empty shell. My grief consumed me, and even though I had Marigold to rely upon, I still felt alone.” She sighed. “Then one day, I received a dozen roses. I couldn’t even remember the time I’d gotten flowers. Laurence never was the romantic type.” Her lips twitched. “The next day I saw you, and it was as if twenty years just melted away.”
She held out her hands, which Julian took. Then she looked at his face. “All my life I’ve done the proper thing, what was expected of me. It’s time that I did something for myself.” She smiled, although a single tear trailed down her cheek. “I love you, Julian. I easily could have so many years ago during that summer, but my future had already been set for me. Now, I am free to choose my own path. I choose you, if you’ll have me.”
He raised her right hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, before doing the same with her left. “I never did get a chance to give you my last gift.”
