Season for Temptation (27 page)

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Authors: Theresa Romain

BOOK: Season for Temptation
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“I will,” Julia offered. She quickly composed the following note, her handwriting large and untidy with agitation:
My dear James,
I am sure you know of the scandal that has broken this morning concerning us all. This may be remarkably forward of me, but I hope you won't mind if I tell you that I would dearly love to accept the offer you made me yesterday.
I am sure you know that that is my fondest wish, regardless of circumstances, although currently our situation makes a speedy betrothal (and wedding) desirable.
Please let me know, as soon as possible, your answer. I rely on you, and hope to see you very soon.
Yours, with love,
Julia
She showed it to her aunt, who nodded shortly and folded it up within a blank sheet of notepaper to hide Julia's message before sealing it. “It'll do. I'll have it taken to his home at once. If he's a gentleman, which I believe he is, we should hear back within the hour.”
Chapter 29
In Which Louisa Finds Out
Julia's penance continued as soon as she left her aunt's room. She felt she owed it to Louisa to tell her everything before her sister should find out from someone else.
Louisa already knew, though; Julia could tell that as soon as she entered the library and saw her sister sitting blank-faced on the sofa, leaning over with her elbows resting on her knees. She looked up at Julia when she heard the door open to admit her, and her expression instantly changed to one of worry. She stood and rushed over to Julia, wrapping her in a tight hug.
“My poor darling,” she said in a soothing voice. “I'm so, so sorry. I blame myself.”
Julia gaped at her for a second, stunned at this response. “What . . .
what
?”
Louisa pulled back, her hands still on Julia's shoulders. She looked guilt-stricken as she explained, “Simone brought me a paper this morning and I saw that terrible item. I know it's all a misunderstanding, but it's all my fault. If I hadn't asked you to give the letter to James . . . oh, dear. I know you only went because I was so insistent and you wanted so badly to help me.”
She sighed, her eyes defeated, and sat down hard again on the sofa, slumping. “I didn't imagine you would go over to his home, but how were you to know that isn't exactly good
ton
? So they've put this terrible insinuation into that scandal rag, when it was all perfectly innocent. It's ridiculous, but it will sound very bad to anyone who doesn't know the truth.”
She straightened up and took Julia's hands in hers, looking determined. “I promise you, I will do whatever I can to straighten things out. I'll take all the responsibility upon myself, and will tell everyone I meet the truth.”
Her voice faltered as she added, “That is . . . I haven't spoken to Aunt Estella yet, but I swear she shall be the first to know. Perhaps she can undo everything; she has powerful friends. I only hope this unfortunate item will not affect your relationship with Sir Stephen Saville. I know he's rather a stickler, but I'll explain the situation to him as well.” She offered Julia a watery smile. “He may not ever forgive me my social trespasses, but he won't think the less of you.”
Julia simply stared at Louisa through this whole impassioned recital, swaying with shock where she stood. She simply couldn't believe what she was hearing. Louisa had put entirely the opposite construction on everything that had been intended by the scandal item. She blamed herself, she trusted Julia, she thought only of how her own supposed faults might have hurt others.
It made Julia feel much, much worse than if Louisa had refused to speak to her. Or yelled at her, or slapped her.
But that simply wouldn't be like Louisa to react in that way. Louisa's way was always to look out for Julia, and to protect her however she could, regardless of her own inclinations. That's what she'd done since they were children; that's why she'd come to London. And that's what she was proposing to do again now—to sacrifice herself so that Julia could recover socially.
Not for the first time, Julia was struck dumb with disbelief at Louisa's selflessness. She was too good; Julia wasn't worthy of a sister like her.
But she would try to be.
Louisa still sat looking at her anxiously, awaiting Julia's response to her apologies and assurances. Oh, dear. This was going to be really difficult, but it had to be said. Her sister deserved the truth.
Julia sat on the floor in front of Louisa and leaned her head on her sister's knee, so she wouldn't have to look her in the face or trust her own legs to support her as she spoke.
“It's not your fault,” she began, then took a deep breath for courage. “Louisa, the item is true, in everything it implies. It's not your fault. It's ours—mine and James's. And that ass Xavier's,” she couldn't resist adding.
A pause succeeded her words; then Louisa said blankly, “Xavier's? What has he to do with anything? I don't understand.”
Julia explained the situation as quickly as she could—how she'd sent the letter, how Sir Stephen had proposed, how she'd wanted to talk to James to work through her confusion, and how he'd read the letters and come to accept Louisa's decision. She left out the part about how she and James had already admitted their love for each other on the previous night; it might be cowardly, but she justified it with the thought that it might hurt Louisa further.
Instead she said, “And when I was there, it just . . . just
happened
. It wasn't planned, but I wasn't sorry for it. The only thing is, as I was leaving, Lord Xavier saw me, and apparently he's blabbed everything to the papers. Not that it's any of his business, damned scandalmonger,” she grumbled.
For once, Louisa didn't admonish her for her language. She simply began stroking Julia's hair slowly. Julia waited for an agonizing minute for her to say something, but when Louisa remained silent, Julia raised her head to look at her sister's face.
It was nothing like what she would have expected. Louisa's gaze was far away, her expression quiet and considering, but a small smile played about the corners of her mouth.
“Louisa?” Julia asked hesitantly.
The older girl's eyes snapped into focus and turned toward the face of her seated sister. “I'm still trying to believe it,” Louisa said. “It's all rather ridiculous, wouldn't you say?”
Ridiculous? That was the word James had used too, and Julia was no less surprised this time.
“I mean,” Louisa mused, “you loved him all along, didn't you? I should have seen it; I should have been able to tell. And here I was pushing you toward this other man you couldn't care a pin for, when all the while I was becoming certain of how wrong it is to marry without love. To marry for logic, and propriety, and security. It's just not enough, is it?”
She rested her hand on Julia's head again, and Julia felt all the healing of her sister's understanding and forgiveness.
“He loves you, too, doesn't he?”
Julia nodded hesitantly, and Louisa continued. “I admit, I'm surprised at what you did—at least, what I presume you did—but if you really love him, I can't fault you for anything.”
She smiled ruefully. “I only wish I could have felt the same way, but I never did. He just wasn't right for me, and I certainly wasn't the one for him. He was my escape; he was never my destiny.”
“You're not angry with me?” Julia asked, scarcely able to believe it.
Louisa sighed. “If this damned item hadn't been in the paper—yes, Julia, I know those words as well as you do, and this is absolutely the time to use them—I would be unreservedly happy. I was afraid I had ruined our family's relationship with James and that I would embarrass him terribly. I knew he didn't love me and wouldn't be hurt on a personal level, but I thought his pride would be touched. I'm . . .” She shook her head. “It's a good thing you have each other.”
Louisa began absently to tease tangles out of Julia's hair in their familiar way. “I'm not sure what to do about the situation, though. The paper implies that my engagement was broken because of you, which is quite wrong. I would like to see that corrected.”
Julia straightened up and looked Louisa directly in the eye. In this way, at least, she could show herself worthy of Louisa's trust. “No, I won't allow it.”
Louisa looked taken aback. “What? What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Julia explained, “as it stands, you are innocent in the eyes of the
ton
. You have every chance to walk away from the situation unscathed and find happiness with someone else. It would be madness to do anything to change that.”
“Madness? I hardly think that,” Louisa protested. “Julia, it's not right. I won't have you protecting me.”
“Yes, you will,” Julia insisted. “For once, you'll let me shield you. It's the least I can do. Louisa, I feel as if I haven't done right by you, even by allowing myself to think of your betrothed husband in a romantic way.”
Or by acting on it
, she thought, ashamed once again about the encounter in the carriage.
She added, “Thank God, he's an honorable man and he's offered for me. Eventually, we will be married, and it'll all be forgotten. We'll spend time in the country for a while, and we'll come back when everything's blown over. We'll be fine.” She tried to smile bravely. “A viscount can get away with a prodigious lot, you know.”
Louisa gave a short laugh. “Yes, I know that well enough.” She bit her lip, looking uncertain. “I just don't feel it's fair to you,” she said again.
“Trust me on this,” Julia said. “It's more than fair. The least I can do, to help you through this situation—which wouldn't even exist if it weren't for me—is to make sure that you come out of it unscathed.”
“But if you hadn't gone to James's house, all the world would know the truth about me. That I'm a jilt,” Louisa insisted.
“You aren't,” Julia replied. “You only agreed to marry James out of a sense of obligation to our family, and to him. If anything, this is more like . . . an annulment,” she decided.
“Now
that
is the most ridiculous thing of all,” Louisa said, smiling, and Julia knew she was beginning to come around.
“So you'll let it stand?” Julia pressed. “You won't say or do anything to counter the story?”
Louisa sighed and waved her hands in capitulation. “Fine, fine. I'll allow you to throw yourself to the wolves—well, one wolf—in order that I might seem innocent and have a chance at finding another potential husband.”
“James isn't a wolf,” Julia protested, but she was smiling now, like her sister. Thank heaven this conversation had gone so well. Thank heaven above, Louisa was a generous and forgiving person. Thank heaven Louisa loved her—and
didn't
love James.
“All the same,” Louisa added, “I would like to leave London for a time. A long time. I think it will take me a while to come to terms with all this. I'm not angry,” she assured Julia, “but I feel like I've got to start over. I have to decide what I want, and who I want, and this certainly isn't the place to do it.”
“Well, Aunt Estella plans to take us back to the country very soon if James and I can't pull off a hasty wedding,” Julia said. “Honestly, even if we can, I'd like to leave, too. I think we'll all need to get away from the wagging tongues for awhile.
“Besides,” she admitted, “if I ever cross paths with Lord Xavier, I'm sure I will haul off and punch him in the face, and you know that would cause a scandal of its own.”
“Ah, yes; as Aunt Estella would say, that would be both vulgar
and
unladylike,” Louisa replied. “So our aunt knows, then?”
Julia rolled her eyes. “She summoned me this morning and nearly flayed me alive. And she hit me on the head with her newspaper.”
Louisa gasped, and covered her mouth to suppress a startled laugh.
“Go ahead, laugh—” Julia waved a hand airily. “I deserved it. She was very angry, but I think she's less so now. By the way, it was her suggestion to let the impression stand about your engagement being broken as a result of, ah, the events of yesterday. I do completely agree with her, of course. But I just wanted to let you know in case you tried to pull any self-sacrificing tricks.”
Louisa gave her sister a small, knowing smile. “After all the fun you got to have? I suppose I'll agree to both your wishes, so I at least have a chance of such fun in the future.”
“It was
wonderful
!” Julia squealed. She blushed at once. Had she really just said that aloud?
Louisa only laughed, so Julia hastily covered her discomfiture with a change of subject. “Come, let's speak with our aunt. Perhaps she's gotten word back from James by now.”

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