One Night With You Page 21

  She swallowed, attempting to push free the awful thickness in her throat. The dark of night had always offered a measure of concealment, granting a sense of unreality to their intimacies.

  His mouth covered hers in a kiss that was tender and thorough, melting her deeper into the bed…deeper in love with him.

  He pulled back to murmur against her mouth, his lips feathering hers as he spoke, “From now on, we’ll have this.”

  Eyes wide, she nodded. “Yes,” she breathed, heart swelling in her chest, understanding that while he was not promising love, or his heart for that matter, it was something. It was a beginning. Perhaps, in time, love could grow. They could be the friends they had once been.

  They could be more.

  Jane walked quickly toward the salon, where, according to the butler, Julianne worked on her needlepoint. She wrung her hands until they felt numb, bloodless. Determination burned in her chest. She could not keep Julianne’s secret from Seth anymore. Not after last night. Not for a moment longer. Either Julianne told him or she would.

  One of the tall double doors stood ajar. She pushed it open with her palm, stepping through the threshold. She stopped midstride, her jaw sagging at the sight of Mr. Knightly and Julianne locked in a passionate embrace on the sofa. Face flaming, she stepped back, hoping to save everyone the embarrassment of voicing her presence and wait until she found Julianne alone. With utmost care, she eased the door shut.

  “Jane?”

  Gasping, she spun around, one hand flying to her throat, the other pressing against the shut door behind her.

  She must have revealed some of her panic, for Seth closed both hands over her arms, demanding, “What is it?”

  She closed her eyes against the warm feel of his hands on her arms, both seductive and reassuring. With a small shake of her head, she opened her eyes, meeting the concern in his brown gaze directly.

  She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. His gaze flicked beyond her, over her shoulder. As though he could see through the door to the lovers beyond, his eyes narrowed, his concern for her diminishing as his focus shifted from her.

  His hands dropped from her arms. Reaching around her, he turned the knob. She didn’t budge as he pushed the door open. Shaking her head, she spun around, hoping Julianne and Mr. Knightly had ended their heated embrace and would not be caught—

  Seth’s breath escaped him in a loud hiss, fluttering her hair, winging through her heart like a bitter breeze.

  The couple was still locked in embrace, oblivious to the world about to crash down upon them. The pins had come loose from Julianne’s hair, and Mr. Knightly took advantage, burying his fingers in the fiery mane.

  Jane closed her eyes, regret rolling through her as Seth’s enraged bellow filled the air. “Take your hands off her!”

  Julianne and Knightly flew apart as if a bolt of lightning split them. Likely the same bolt Seth felt shoot through him at the sight of his valet ravishing his sister.

  Shouldering past Jane, he stormed into the room, hands flexing at his sides, the urge to lay his hands on Knightly powerful and violent. He stopped short of actually succumbing to the impulse and clenched his hands behind his back.

  Betrayal flayed his heart as he recalled all he and Knightly had endured together over the years. Certainly enough for the bastard to refrain from taking advantage of his sister. Her innocence, to say nothing of her disability, should have stayed his animal desires.

  Julianne shook her head wildly, auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders, the very picture of wanton abandon.

  “S—Seth,” she began, panic tightening her expression. “Please. Don’t be angry. It’s not what it looks like. I love Gregory.”

  He glared at Knightly, suddenly convinced he had never seen the man before, until now. The libertine held himself stoically, solemn and unflinching beneath Seth’s glare.

  “How far has this gone?” he demanded, forcing a cool gust of wind through him, freezing his rage, his impulse to tear Knightly apart. “Have you compromised her?”

  “Seth!” Julianne cried, her voice high with indignation as she gathered her hair and pulled it over one shoulder.

  Knightly squared his shoulders. “I would not dishonor Julianne…or you for—”

  “Speak not of honor,” he cut in, fuming at Knightly’s familiar use of his sister’s name. “Considering what I’ve witnessed, I don’t put much faith in your honor.”

  “I hold your sister in the greatest esteem,” Knightly said evenly. Swinging his gaze back to Julianne, he added in a softer voice, “I love her.”

  “Gregory,” Julianne gasped, groping for his arm, her rapturous expression turning Seth’s stomach. Knightly’s hand clasped hers.

  “Julianne, go to your room,” Seth ordered, feeling as if his world were rapidly unraveling.

  Julianne’s chin shot up. “I’m not a child, Seth.”

  “Seth,” Jane spoke beside him, but he silenced her with a wave of his hand, too focused on his sister, on shattering whatever spell Knightly had woven over her.

  Knightly tucked Julianne’s hand in the crook of his arm. “My intentions are honorable.” Inclining his head, he added, “I wish to marry her. With your blessing.”

  “Marry her?” A rough, broken laugh rose from his throat. “And how will you manage that? You cannot support her with the care that she requires. Can you hire a companion to see to her needs? A housekeeper? A cook? A maid? How exactly will you afford to keep her in the manner she requires?”

  A shadow fell over Knightly’s face and doubt flickered in his once steady gaze.

  Splotches of color broke out over Julianne’s face. “I’m not helpless!”

  “You can’t marry,” Seth ground out, as if she had not spoken. “And you shall never have my blessing.”

  Tears pooled in Julianne’s eyes. “Seth…don’t do this,” she whispered, lips trembling.

  He shook his head, forcing her sad plea out of his head. Staring only at Knightly, the one to blame in this mess, the one to have so foolishly and selfishly given Julianne romantic notions, he continued, “Consider yourself dismissed. Pack your things.” He wouldn’t have Knightly remain another moment to toy further with his sister’s affections.

  “Seth,” Jane broke in, her voice more insistent.

  He swung his gaze on his wife, his anger mounting at the look of disappointment on her face—as if he had somehow failed her.

  “See, Jane,” Julianne cut in, her voice hard and hostile in a way he had never heard. “I told you he would not understand.”

  He stared hard at Jane, watching as guilty color swept high on her cheeks. Something ugly twisted inside of him.

  “You knew?” he demanded, feeling as he did the day he learned she was Aurora. Again, she had withheld the truth from him. Only this time, pain accompanied the betrayal.

  “Why don’t we all sit down and discuss this calmly,” Jane suggested, her eyes bright with appeal.

  “No, Jane.” The sound of her name fell like a stone from his lips, as hard as the bitterness encasing his heart. “This is a family matter. It’s none of your concern.”

  The color drained from her face, and his heart squeezed. His hand twitched at his side. Weak fool he was, he felt inclined to smooth the wounded look from her face, to offer words of apology.

  Before he could succumb to the impulse, she gave a jerky nod and quickly stepped back. Turning, she exited the room, her skirts barely stirring at her ankles. He watched her leave, saying nothing even as the urge to stop her coursed thickly in his veins.

  “I’ll pack my things,” Knightly’s voice pulled him back.

  “Gregory, no!” Julianne cried, her fingers white where they clung to his arm. “I’m of age. We don’t need Seth’s blessing.”

  He flinched at his sister’s words, never realizing how much her good opinion mattered, unprepared for the pain of losing it, losing her. The ache in his chest deepened as he realized Julianne would never understand, never see that he
only sought to protect her.

  To have lost the love of his one remaining family member filled him with impotent fury. Not a day passed that he did not blame himself for his sister’s accident, for stealing her life, but he had been able to live with himself knowing that she never blamed him, that she loved him and respected him.

  Now Knightly had robbed him of that.

  “Get out,” he growled.

  “Seth, no!” She took a sudden step in his direction, lifting a fist as if she intended to attack him. “I love Gregory.”

  “What do you know of love?” he asked, gentling his voice in an attempt to soften the severity of the question. “You’ve spent your life sheltered, protected, devoid of male attention.”

  Julianne drew a deep breath, her chest rising with the effort. “I know a good deal more of love than you. I’m not the one so afraid of being hurt that I can’t see what’s staring me in the face.” She released a pent-up breath, the sound harsh and angry. Words rushed from her lips in a torrent. “The only one blind here is you.”

  Knightly ran the backs of his fingers over Julianne’s flushed cheek, murmuring soft unintelligible words to calm her. Julianne turned into his touch like a flower seeking the sun.

  Seth watched, disgusted that the bastard had the power to soothe her. Gritting his teeth against the sight of their familiarity, he pretended her words did not affect him, pretended she had not hit a nerve.

  Knightly pressed a kiss to Julianne’s forehead, the gesture somehow final. “I must go now.”

  Julianne choked back a sob.

  Seth looked away, hands knotted at his sides, furious with Knightly for putting her through this ordeal, for giving her hope that she could ever lead a life where courtship and marriage were the normal course of events for her.

  Setting her from him, Knightly marched from the room with stoic restraint, never once looking back. Julianne stumbled to the sofa and collapsed upon it, her shoulders shaking with dry, silent sobs that wrung his heart dry. Seth approached and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

  She jerked as though burned. “Don’t,” she cried. “Don’t comfort me as though you have no hand in my misery.”

  “Julianne—”

  “No,” she bit out, her voice a crack of gunfire. “I never blamed you, Seth.” She lifted her face. Tears glistened on her cheeks. “What happened to me was an accident. I never blamed you. But this, today…I shall never forgive you. You may be too afraid to love, but that doesn’t give you the right to steal my chance.”

  She dropped her face into her hands then and wept, the sound ripping through him like the slash of a sword.

  Without another word, he slipped from the salon and stalked upstairs, refusing to mull over her words, to examine them for truth. She didn’t know what she was saying. Right now, pain incited her words. But the pain would fade. Along with the memory of Knightly. And time would prove him right.

  He was halfway down the corridor to his chamber when the sound of his name stopped him.

  Turning, he faced Jane, the sight of her doing nothing to ease the betrayal stinging his heart. She knew how deeply he took his role as Julianne’s guardian. She knew and had said nothing.

  She approached, hands clenched before her. Moistening her lips, she drew a breath and spoke quickly, as if she feared losing the courage to speak, “I know you’re angry, but if you interfere between Julianne and Mr. Knightly, you will live to regret it.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” She lifted that little chin of hers at a stubborn angle. “I believe she genuinely loves him.”

  “She hasn’t a clue—”

  “No. You haven’t,” she fired. “Don’t underestimate her. She possesses a warm and loving heart.”

  “That is not what I hold in question,” he snapped. “She cannot manage the responsibilities of marriage. Can you imagine her having children in her condition?” He shook his head. “And to a man with no prospects. Such a life would entail more than she could endure.”

  “What kind of life would you have her lead, then? One where she stays indoors and has someone read to her and prepare her tea? Dull and bored all of her days?”

  “Yes,” he boomed. “She’ll be safe. Anything else carries too much risk for a woman like her.”

  “A woman like her?” Jane echoed, her expression one of bewildered frustration.

  He dragged a hand through his hair in mutual frustration. “Am I the only one aware of my sister’s limitations?”

  “You’re certainly the only one willing to have them define the sum of her. She’s not as helpless as you would have her.”

  “And who are you to meddle? Marrying you does not automatically invite you into all matters of my life. You have been assigned two tasks. Provide an heir and protect my sister as I would.” He raked her with a withering glare. “The latter you’ve proven yourself ill-equipped to accomplish.”

  She flinched and pulled back her shoulders, the blue fabric of her dress straining across her breasts, distracting him in a way he despised, evidence of his intolerable weakness for her. At a time like this, with the sting of her betrayal still fresh, he should look on her with utter apathy, his heart hard against her.

  “Julianne is my friend, and although you may disagree, I have her best interest at heart.”

  He gestured to the salon where even now the sound of his sister’s tears stabbed his ears. “You may wish to reevaluate the manner in which you treat your friends.”

  “I’m not the one responsible for her tears! You’re the culprit on that score.”

  His eyes flicked downward, to the slight curve of her belly nearly undetectable beneath her gown. “You may carry my child, but do not mistake that you have the right to lecture me on matters involving my sister.”

  “Indeed.” Scorn laced her voice. She gave a single, tight nod. “We’re simply husband and wife. Nothing more.”

  Nothing more. They were becoming too damned much more. More than he had ever intended. More than he would acknowledge to her. More than he could acknowledge to himself. Shaking his head, he turned to leave. Her voice stopped him.

  “Walk away,” she goaded. “You’re good at that. That and living in the past.”

  Tension knotting his neck and shoulders, he swung back around. “Explain that remark.”

  That slim nose of hers lifted, giving her the appearance of looking down on him. “If you permitted your sister to live her life, you might actually have to start living your own.” Her furious gaze swept over him. “Instead of living in the past and pining for a woman who will never love anyone more than herself.”

  He grabbed her by the arms and gave her a small shake.

  She still thought he loved Madeline? Did she know him so little? How could she think such a thing when all he thought about, all he craved, was her?

  “I’m not pining after Madeline,” he growled savagely. “You’re the only woman…” He stopped himself just short of saying something truly regrettable. The sort of thing that gave a woman total control over a man.

  “What?” she demanded.

  Shaking his head, he released her and took a step back. Hands dropping limply to his sides, he stared at her, letting his silence speak for him.

  “You don’t love Madeline.” She nodded as if only now realizing that fact, accepting it for the truth. “You don’t know how. You’re incapable of love.”

  “You’re right, of course,” he agreed, wondering at the dull ache her words caused. “I warned you of as much when I married you.”

  “Yes, you did.” Her eyes took on a faraway look as she nodded again. “Although I didn’t let that stop me from hoping. Foolish, I know.” Her gaze snapped back to his, her eyes mysteriously moist. “But that’s not good enough anymore. Not for me. I can’t live like this.”

  “Like how?”

  “In love with you,” she confessed, her voice quick and desperate, harsh in the narrow corridor.

 
Seth stared.

  She smiled mildly. An indulgent, mirthless smile that only added to his bewilderment.

  Jane loved him? Panic and elation bubbled to life in his chest. He stomped down on the elation, cautioning himself to keep his head, to stay in control.

  “Why do you think I became Aurora and followed you to Vauxhall? I wanted to be with you. Only you. Always you.” Her smile slipped and her expression became one of infinite sadness. “I never stopped loving you. Not once all these years. But I see now you’re not even remotely like the boy I once loved.”

  She dipped her head, her voice small and quiet, pulling at some forgotten part of himself that he refused to release. “I mourn him. That boy was not afraid to give his heart.”

  Afraid? He stiffened. Through hard lips, he reminded, “I told you when we married not to expect—”

  “Yes, yes.” She lifted her gaze, a smile that failed to reach her eyes curving her full lips. “I know. You were unfailingly honest with me.” She drew a deep breath. “That’s all very well. Only I can’t live like this anymore. I thought I could. I thought…” Her voice faded and she sighed.

  Rubbing her forehead, she looked suddenly tired. “I thought so many things. Mostly that my love could bring you around. But I was wrong. So wrong. Because not only can you not let yourself love—you forbid anyone around you to love either. Whether it’s your sister…or me. I’m finished living my life at the whim of others, Seth.”

  “What are you saying, Jane?”

  “I think I’m being fairly clear.” Her gaze drilled into his steadily. “You can’t love. And you won’t let me love you.” A small, tired laugh escaped her. “So what’s the point of any of this?”

  Before he could respond Rebecca arrived at his side, her words spilling forth in an agitated rush, “You need to attend to your sister, my lord. She is insisting on going after Mr. Knightly and wants me to help her pack.”

  Sighing, he nodded. Turning back to Jane, he said, “We’ll finish this discussion when—”