A Perfect Groom (31 page)
“I know what I said. But…everything’s changed.”
He heard the words, despairing and thick.
He wanted to shake her, to demand that she listen. He wanted to close his arms around her and never let go. Christ, he thought helplessly, it was almost as if he could see her slipping away, drifting beyond his reach.
“You’re wrong,” he whispered. “Nothing’s changed. Only me.
Only me
.” His eyes were stinging. He saw the world through a watery blur. Saw
her
through a blur. He didn’t care, nor did he care that
she
saw. All he could think was that he had to bring her back. He had to at least try.
“Please, sweetheart. We’ll work this out, I promise. Just…” There was a deep, rough catch in his voice. “Come home with me. I — I’m begging you.
Come home with me
.”
A stricken sound tore from her throat, a cry that ripped his heart to shreds. “Don’t say any more. And don’t look at me like that!” She wrenched away and bolted for the door.
Justin knew then. It was no use. There would be no arguing. There would be no pleading.
And when he left…he left alone.
The next afternoon, Sebastian whistled a merry tune as he mounted the steps to his brother’s house on
Arthur let him in. “My lord,” he murmured, taking Sebastian’s hat and umbrella, “your arrival is most welcome.”
The butler directed him to Justin’s study. He didn’t think twice of Arthur’s statement until he saw Justin.
He lounged in a chair by the fire, booted legs sprawled wide. His usually impeccable appearance was anything but. His cravat was undone, his shirt wrinkled and untidy, his jaw dark with stubble.
“Good God, man!” Sebastian exclaimed. “You look bloody awful!”
Justin saluted with a half-empty bottle of wine. “Thank you. May I return the compliment?”
Sebastian looked into bleary, bloodshot eyes and swore. “Are you foxed?”
Justin’s mouth twisted. “Not yet. But I
am
trying.” He started to lift the bottle. “Ah, but where are my manners? Please, join me. It’s a fine year, I promise you.”
Sebastian wrested the bottle away and set it aside. “Where the devil is Arabella?”
Justin’s eyes glinted. “My lovely wife spent last night at her aunt and uncle’s. This morning, a footman came to collect some of her things. I trust that she is, at this very instant, contemplating whether or not our marriage should be annulled — per her parents’ counsel, I might add.”
Sebastian’s mouth thinned. “Spare me your sarcasm. What the hell are you doing here, then? This is the last place you should be.”
“She doesn’t want to see me.”
“Oh, that’s absurd.”
“She told me, Sebastian. She
told
me. She…she’s left me,” he ground out. “No, that’s not right. I drove her away. I drove her away with my — my vileness. My God, Sebastian, you should have seen her.”
Sebastian sighed. “Perhaps I will have that glass of wine.” He retrieved the wine, poured himself a healthy portion, then sat back in the chair opposite Justin. “Tell me what happened,” he invited.
Quickly, without a surfeit of words, Justin began to talk. He began with the evening of the Farthingale ball, and summed it up with Gideon’s visit and the remainder of the evening last night.
Sebastian listened quietly throughout. One corner of his mouth crooked upward when Justin had finished. “Well,” he murmured, “I certainly don’t envy you.”
Justin eyed his brother. “Your sympathy overwhelms me.”
Sebastian leaned forward. “This isn’t doing either of you any good. But I doubt an annulment would be so easy to obtain as Daniel thinks. For one, Arabella did have consent — her aunt and uncle. For another, the marriage has been consummated, has it not?”
Justin simply gave him a thoroughly disgusted look.
Sebastian’s lips quirked in turn. “I agree, a stupid question.”
“Perhaps it’s better this way.” Justin stared dully off into the corner.
“She’s the best thing to ever come into your life,” Sebastian said bluntly.
“And I’m the worst thing to come into hers.”
“That’s precisely the kind of thinking that will gain you nothing. Justin, sometimes things happen that we don’t expect, that we can’t control. Perhaps it’s just as she says. Perhaps all Arabella needs is a little time. She’ll come around.”
Justin was quiet for a very long time. “And what if she doesn’t?”
“Then make her.”
Justin’s mind veered to Arabella. He saw her as he’d left her, her eyes huge and wounded, shaken and but a shadow of the woman he knew.
Darkness slipped over him. “I can’t. I won’t.” He faltered. “Sebastian, I’ve hurt her enough.”
“And you’re content to leave it at that?”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” Justin grew bitter. “Snatch her away from her parents? That should go over well. Her father would probably have me hunted down for kidnapping!”
“I hardly think so. Daniel is a reasonable man. When he sees how unhappy Arabella is, he’ll change his mind. So will Catherine.”
“Sebastian, you haven’t been listening. She doesn’t
want
me. I think it would suit her just fine if she never laid eyes on me again. Christ, she could barely stand to be in the same room with me.”
“She’s angry and hurt,” Sebastian reminded him gently. “And you forget, I
have
seen her with you. She can barely take her eyes from you — and you from her.”
Justin dropped his head into his hands. Somehow he’d known his newfound happiness wouldn’t last — that it was too good to be true. After all,
she
was too good for him. His whole life, he’d been floundering; in Arabella, he’d found something worthwhile. He’d felt
whole
. But now he’d lost her, and he had no one else to blame.
“That was before,” he stated heavily. “And this is now, and…and it’s just as she said. Everything’s changed.”
“No, Justin. Nothing’s changed. Not really.”
Justin raised his head. “I swear I do not mean to be rude, but what the hell would you know about it?”
Sebastian smiled slightly. “Quite a lot, actually.”
“What the devil does that mean? And why the devil are you smiling?”
“If it’s any consolation, I remember having a similar conversation with
you
several years ago, only then the tables were turned. As you may recall, there was a time when
Devon
refused to see me as well.”
Justin’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “Yes, and whose fault was that? Mine. I was the one who almost ruined your chance at marriage.”
“Oh, no, it wasn’t you, Justin. I mucked things up quite tidily.” Sebastian paused. “It seems we both have a way of making fools of ourselves with the women we love.”
Justin went utterly still, both inside and out. He stared at Sebastian until his eyes grew dry and he could no longer see. Scarcely able to breathe, he broke out in a cold sweat inside. Oh, God, was that what this was? This rending, tearing feeling deep in his soul? Was it love? It was like a red-hot knife tearing deep inside, over and over. A brand on his soul…on his very heart.
Love couldn’t hurt like this. It
shouldn’t
hurt like this. Love was supposed to be good and sweet and pure…
Like Arabella.
And in loving Arabella…well, it was not an admission that Justin made either easily or gracefully. He had fought it for much of his life.
But he could fight it no longer.
Yet the knowledge did not make his heartache easier to bear.
Indeed, it only made it all the harder.
Twenty-three
“Madame,”
Ames
announced, “a caller for you.”
From her seat on the settee, Arabella glanced up. “For me?”
Her pulse was suddenly wild and erratic. Was it Justin? A dozen feelings rushed at her from all sides. Hope…fear…everything in between. Her heart lurched as a tall figure strode into the drawing room.
It wasn’t Justin, but Sebastian.
She could have wept. Two days had gone by since the awful scene here in this very room. As soon as Justin departed that night, Arabella had excused herself and gone upstairs. She had been too numb to feel anything but her own pain. Certainly not his.
But upstairs, in the bed where she’d spent so many nights before, sleep eluded her. It felt… wrong somehow. The bed felt…empty. In the morning, she wavered between indignation and misery, hurt and yearning.
But now…Her gaze flitted to the tea service on the tray at her knees. “Would you like tea?”
Sebastian declined.
Arabella bit her lip. “You’ve seen Justin, haven’t you?” The question spilled out before she could stop it.
“Yesterday,” he affirmed.
Her hands fluttered back to her lap. “Did he ask you to come here?” Before he could say a word, she came to her own conclusion. “No, of course not. He’s too stubborn. Too proud.”
Sebastian smiled slightly. “I see you know him well.”
“How is he?” The question almost burned her tongue. She didn’t want to know, she told herself wildly. But she had to.
Sebastian hiked a black brow. “Must you ask?”
“Oh,” she said weakly. “Foxed, I take it.”
“If it’s any comfort, I don’t think it’s helping.” He watched her for a moment. “He doesn’t know I’m here, Arabella. And I haven’t come to plead his case, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not here to try to convince you to return to him.”
“Then why are you?”
“I don’t really know,” he answered honestly. “But now that I am, I should like to tell you something. So please, Arabella, hear me out, if you will.” He paused. “It’s strange,” he said musingly, “but all morning, my mind has been consumed with an incident that occurred long, long ago. I can’t get it out of my mind and…well, frankly, that’s why I’m here, I suppose.”
Arabella regarded him curiously. “What is it?”
“We were at Thurston Hall,” he went on. “Justin was perhaps eight or nine, no more, if memory serves me correctly. One afternoon, Justin failed to return to the schoolroom. Soon everyone was searching for him, frantic as the hours passed. But no one could find him, until at last my father spied him sitting in the branches of a tree in the orchard, watching as everyone dashed madly about for hours. He shouted for him to come down. And I’m not sure that Justin would have, but then he fell. His wrist was cocked at an odd angle — I knew it was broken. I ran over, for my father was in a rage such as I’d never seen before.”
Arabella had gone very quiet inside. She suddenly recalled how Justin had pointed out that very tree…
“My father…he was not a gentle man, Arabella. He had no compassion for Justin’s pain. The physician was summoned. I could tell it hurt like the very blazes — and Justin but a boy! But he didn’t make a sound when the physician set the break. I recall telling him it was all right to cry. But Justin merely gazed at my father and vowed most insistently that he would
not
cry, that he would
never
cry. Oh, and my father
wanted
him to, I could see it in his eyes! But Justin never did,” Sebastian finished. “Not then. Not ever.”
He looked at her then. “That’s odd, don’t you think? For a child to never, ever cry?”
Arabella’s throat constricted. Etched in her mind was a vision of Justin as a child, lying helpless and hurt while his father raged…And to think she had laughingly chided him about his clumsiness that day!
Her mind whirling, she went very still inside. For she was remembering something else, too, a memory that suddenly battered her. She cringed inside, recalling how Justin had stood in this very room a scant two days earlier, a telltale rustiness in his voice, an unfamiliar sheen in his eyes…She cringed inside. What was it she’d told him?
Don’t say any more. And don’t look at me like that!
She gave a tiny shake of her head and looked at Sebastian. “How do you know he didn’t?”
“Because I know my brother,” Sebastian replied. He seemed to hesitate. “Arabella, our childhood was not particularly pleasant —”
“I know,” she said quickly. “Justin told me.” She didn’t tell him about the night their father had died, how Justin blamed himself. Justin had revealed it in confidence, and she would not betray that confidence.
But Sebastian was speaking again. “Julianna has no memory of our mother. She was too young when she left. That’s a blessing, I believe. But Justin…” He shook his head. “I’ve always thought it was hardest on Justin. He needed a mother, and she wasn’t there. It changed him, I think. And he’s spent his life believing what he thought everyone else believed, that he was wild and rebellious and defiant. And the world believes it, too, that he is a man without scruples, without morals. But Julianna and I have always been aware that’s not what he is, not really. I think you know, too, that he’s not what he pretends to be.”
Arabella did. God, how she did!
“He’s been walking in shadow his whole life, wandering, searching for something he didn’t even know he wanted. But I think he found it in you, Arabella. He’s
different
with you. It’s like he’s stepped into a ray of sunlight.” He gave a tiny shake of his head.
“Don’t send him back into the shadows, Arabella. Please don’t. I know I said I wouldn’t interfere. But you and Justin belong together.
Devon
knew it even before I did. But this rift between you and Justin…it’s beyond my power to repair, or I would.”
He paused. “Please,” he said softly, “just go see him. Before you decide anything, just — just go see him. I believe you’ll find him in
Kent
. He told me he had some unfinished business at the house there.”
She peered at him blankly. “What house?”
“The country house in
Kent
. He bought it just a few days ago.”
Stunned, Arabella merely gazed at him.
“You didn’t know, did you?”
Arabella took a breath. “He never said a word —” She broke off. Was
that
the news he’d wanted to tell her? Guilt washed through her. Oh, merciful Lord. Gideon had arrived, and then — then she hadn’t even given him the chance.
Through a haze she saw Sebastian rise to his feet. “I must be off.
Devon
is expecting me.”
Arabella saw him to the door, then returned to the drawing room. Her tea sat before her, cold and untouched.
There was a painful catch in the region of her heart. Sebastian’s visit was a stark reminder of all Justin had endured as a child — his mother’s abandonment, his father’s censure. Arabella had the awful sensation it was surely far worse than Justin had let on, than Sebastian even knew. The night Justin had told her of his nightmare, she had guessed that Justin loved his father, loved him despite all the hurt his father had inflicted upon him. She had no trouble envisioning Justin as the proud, stubborn little boy Sebastian spoke of, for he was just such a man. If he was hurt, he wouldn’t show it.
Yet he had begged her to return home with him. He’d
begged
her, with tears in his eyes…
Tears from the boy who never cried.
And she had turned her back on him.
Suddenly she was crying, too, silent tears that slid unheeded down her cheeks.
It was then she realized…the walls he’d built around himself were not meant to keep others out — to keep
her
out! — but to defend his heart, to shield himself against further pain.
She had failed him, failed him most cruelly!
Why had he wed her? she wondered achingly. If he’d wanted to coldly seduce her, he could have. If he’d persisted, she wouldn’t nave resisted.
Instead he had married her, this man who defied duty. And she wanted desperately to believe that what they had shared in those few precious weeks of marriage was more than passion. More than desire…
In was in the midst of that thought that she glanced up to find her parents, aunt, and uncle had filed into the room. Hurriedly she wiped the moisture from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
Mama wasted no time expressing her concern. “We saw the Marquess of Thurston leave. I hope his visit didn’t distress you, Arabella. Are you — all right?”
“I’m fine, Mama,” she said, and smiled.
“Oh, Arabella, it’s grand to see you smile again! Why, we were anxious to cheer you, so Grace and I asked Cook to prepare your favorite —”
“I won’t be staying for dinner, Mama.” She stood, only to find the change in position made her head spin. Her father stepped to her side and steadied her.
She blinked. “Oh, my,” she said. “How strange. That’s the second time that’s happened the last few days.”
An odd look passed between her mother and Aunt Grace. Arabella looked from one to the other. “What is it?” she started to ask.
Her jaw sagged as the significance sank in. “Oh.
Oh
!” This last was almost a squeal.
“It’s strain, surely,” her mother said quickly.
Arabella put a hand on her belly. A faint wonder crept inside her. “Perhaps not,” she said softly.
Her mother inhaled. “Arabella, no. No! Never say you’re breeding by that man!”
“Mama!” Arabella’s voice rapped out sharply. “Watch what you say! That man is my husband. Do you hear? My
husband
. And his name is Justin. It would please me if you would begin using it.”
Mama appeared utterly stricken. “Arabella,” she whispered, “what are you saying?”
Arabella stepped forward, taking her mother’s hand. “Mama, I’m not a child anymore. I haven’t been for a long time. You and Papa have been gone so much that I think you still see me as a child. But I’m a woman now, a woman who knows what she wants.” She smiled faintly. “When you and Papa left for
Africa
, I didn’t. Why, even when the Season began, I didn’t. I felt out of step somehow. But now I know what’s wrong — or rather, I know what’s
right
.”