The Wedding Wager (8 page)

He loved Harry
, he realized with a sudden blinding clarity. He probably always had. He couldn’t imagine a future without her. And yet he’d almost jeopardized their future, just for a brief passionate encounter with a beautiful stranger.

“Good-bye,” he said, taking one last look at Diana. She was sitting perfectly still, and looked pale and fragile somehow. He hated having upset her, but there was nothing he could do to console her now.

He wrenched himself away and ran, plunging down a path at random. He finally stopped when he’d reached the opposite corner of the garden, where another small fountain gurgled. Going up to it, he scooped up a handful of water and splashed it over his face, hoping it would cool him. He sat down on the edge of the fountain, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands.

How could he have come so close to losing control? When so many others had failed, how could this one woman have tempted him almost beyond bearing? But he
had
resisted, he reminded himself. He’d gone away before he’d even kissed Diana, or whoever she was, yet he didn’t feel at all victorious. He felt like a scoundrel to have left her in such a way. She was probably crying her eyes out right now.

But it was better this way. He didn’t think Diana was really cut out for the dangerous game she had tried to play. Perhaps this incident would convince her to give up her search for a lover and leave her free to meet a man who would restore her faith in marriage. What was wrong with him, that he felt jealousy at the thought?

He had better concentrate on his feelings for Harry. Instantly, his mind’s eye conjured up a vision of her at the stables: flushed, with a bit of straw in her hair, shy and appealing. Suddenly he felt restless with the desire to see her again and show her how he felt, but mingled with his eagerness was a growing sense of guilt and unworthiness. He’d laughed when she had accused him of being a rake, but was she right? Was he really so depraved that he might betray his love for her?

No, he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He had vowed he would be a faithful husband to Harry, and so he would be. They would have a perfect marriage; no two people were ever more suited for each other.

As he thought this, however, his confidence wavered. With a pain akin to a blow, he remembered that Harry loved him only as a sister would. She had proposed the wager in the first place, but it was clear she had not dreamed that she might lose. It would be horribly unjust to hold her to their bargain. If she married him, it would have to be of her own free will, because she loved him, too.

It was going to be difficult, but Julian knew what he had to do. Tomorrow, he’d have to release Harry from their bargain. At the same time, he would begin to woo her in earnest. But even as he planned, a painful anxiety shook him. After such a wretched start, what were his chances of success?

* * *

Harry sat forlornly in the carriage, swaying and bumping over the long road home.

She’d failed.

She tried not to think about Julian’s face as he pulled away, exclaiming that he couldn’t kiss her. Afterwards, he’d said he loved someone else, but it was clear that was simply an excuse.

She fought back sudden tears. She’d wanted to cry when Julian had run off, but instead she’d snatched up his helmet and run back to the carriage. She cradled the helmet in her lap, remembering how handsome Julian had looked attired as a knight of bygone days. She’d played on his sympathy and aroused his gallantry, but when all was said and done that was not enough. She should have trusted her own instincts when Lady Dearing had tried to convince her to take part in this masquerade. She should have known better than to think she had the looks or the skill to lure Julian into dalliance.

She caught herself on another sob. Why was she being so foolish? Perhaps she was just tired, and a little overwrought from the pent-up strain of trying to play such a foreign role.

Perhaps it was the thought of what she’d have to do tomorrow.

She’d have to ask Julian to release her from their bargain.

A hot tear spilled out onto her cheek. Julian would be very angry. She dreaded that, of course. However, he would eventually forgive her. And wouldn’t it be worth bearing his anger, to keep him from ruining his life?

Another tear rolled down, and another, and another. What was wrong with her, that she couldn’t hold them back? She couldn’t stop thinking of Julian, of how he had looked as he pulled away from her, blurting out polite apologies. Not wanting her.

But she had wanted
him
. It was mad, it was ludicrous, but when he’d finally taken her in his arms, her heart had leaped inside her. She’d forgotten her scheme entirely in anticipation of her first real kiss. Then he’d pulled away.

Her tears stilled suddenly. As the truth finally dawned on her, she drew her cloak around her against a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the warm June night.

She knew now why she had been so apprehensive about marrying Julian, and why she’d felt so restless and confused for the past few months. In her heart she had feared she would fall in love with him, and now it had happened. The devil of it was that there was nothing she could do to make him love her back.

Harry’s heart was heavy the next morning, as she made her way back home from Nurse’s cottage. Lady Dearing’s coach had left her off there at about three o’clock. Luckily, Nurse’s sight was not what it once was, so she hadn’t noticed that Harry’s eyes were red-rimmed from crying during the long coach ride. Nurse had just cheerfully insisted on undressing her and tucking her into Nurse’s own bed. This morning, she had helped Harry wash and dry her hair and dress in clothes Harry had left there to change into after the ball.

In her old dress and bonnet, Harry knew she looked quite her dowdy, spinsterish self again. She suspected Cinderella had felt just the same way the day after the ball. Except that Harry knew her prince was coming to see her, and that she was going to refuse his suit for all time.

Today, she would ask Julian to cancel the wager. With any luck, he would be so angry that he would stay away long enough for her to learn to hide her feelings from him.

She resolutely mastered the impulse to cry again. It would not do to behave like a watering-pot when Julian arrived, or he might suspect her secret. She could at least keep her pride intact.

The path from Nurse’s cottage took her through a small wood and ended at the grounds behind her father’s house. Harry sighed. The house seemed comforting, quiet and sleepy in the mellow morning sunshine. She could see Aunt Claudia sitting in the garden, but decided against joining her. It would be best if she spent a little time alone, rehearsing what she would say to Julian.

Under cover of several large rhododendron bushes, she passed by her aunt and entered the house by a back entrance. Safely in her room, she sat down at her dressing-table to remove her hat. Her dejection gave way to shock when she looked in the mirror.

Botheration! Streaks of black still showed clearly against her soft brown locks. Nurse’s eyes being what they were, she kept no mirror, so neither of them had noticed that they hadn’t done a thorough job washing out the dye.

Harry stared at her reflection for a few dazed seconds, then slapped the bonnet back onto her head. Just in time, for at that moment, Martha, the maid who waited on both her and Aunt Claudia, entered the room.

“Lord Debenham is here to see you, Miss.”

“Heavens! What is he doing here so early?” Harry exclaimed, jumping up from her chair in a panic. “What am I to do?”

“I don’t understand, Miss. Don’t you wish to see his lordship?” asked Martha, a look of puzzlement on her normally placid face.

“Yes, of course, but I can’t—not yet!” she replied, trying to collect her thoughts. “Go tell him to wait. And bring me some hot water. No, there’s no time for that! Bring me one of Aunt Claudia’s caps.”

“One of your aunt’s caps? But you don’t wear caps, Miss,” said Martha, her look of confusion deepening.

“I do now. Hurry, please!”

Martha returned from Aunt Claudia’s room with a lace-trimmed cap. Then Harry realized she couldn’t exchange her bonnet for the cap with Martha looking on.

“Martha, I am not certain I like this one,” she said. “Please fetch me another.”

Martha looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. Harry decided it was not far from the truth, and forced herself to suppress the hysterical giggle that rose in her throat.

Hurriedly, she removed her bonnet and put the cap on her head. She tucked her hair up into it, and tied the strings under her chin. Looking into the mirror, she blenched. She’d managed to hide her hair, but she looked dreadful, her pale face and darkly shadowed eyes framed by the fussy, heavily trimmed cap. She looked like a scrawny, overwrought chicken.

“I can’t see him like this,” she muttered. “I
can’t
!”

“Is something the matter, Miss?” said Martha, bustling in with another cap in her hand.

“No, nothing. I have decided this cap will do, after all.”

“Are you quite sure, Miss?” asked Martha, still eyeing Harry as she might a madwoman.

Harry nodded. It didn’t really matter how ugly she looked. Perhaps it would convince Julian he was well rid of a bad bargain, she thought, searching for a handkerchief.

She blew her nose, squared her shoulders and went down to the drawing room where Julian was waiting. She found him pacing the room, and felt an ache rise in her throat at the sight of him. He turned, and she saw that his face looked haggard. She wondered how long he’d stayed at the ball after she’d left. He didn’t look as if he’d slept at all. His expression seemed hungry as he gazed at her, but then it gave way to a look of concern.

“Harry, are you well?” he asked.

“Yes, perfectly,” she replied. “Oh, I see you are looking at my cap. I have decided that I have reached the age where I should start wearing them.”

“You are only three and twenty!” He gave the cap another puzzled look. “I suppose you know best,” he added awkwardly.

They sat down on the sofa where they had sat together so many evenings when he’d visited, but now a strange silence fell between them as Harry struggled to summon up the courage to make her speech.

“There is something I have to say to you,” said Julian, just as she said the same words.

They both laughed, in embarrassment, and Harry realized that Julian seemed no more comfortable than she.

“You first,” he said.

“No, you start,” she said, grateful for any delay.

“Harry, I want to release you from our wager. I can’t hold you to it. It was a silly idea for me to ever propose to you in such a way.”

It seemed that Julian himself had finally seen the wisdom in what she’d been saying about his plan. She should be relieved; now there was no need to ask him to release her. Instead, she felt more wretched than before.

She struggled to find the right words to thank him, but they caught in her throat.

“Please let me finish,” he said, and took her hands in his. “I still wish to marry you, more than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

“You don’t have to say that,” she replied, trying to look cheerful. “I know everyone thinks we are engaged, but I can cry off, and no one will blame you.”

“I don’t care what everyone thinks,” he said. “I just want to marry
you
.”

Oh, why did he have to sound so earnest, and so totally charming?

“It’s best that we don’t,” she said. Gently, she tried to pull her hands back, but he held them firmly. Despite herself, she felt warmed by the touch.

“Harry, you must realize by now that I can be faithful. Do you think I haven’t encountered any temptation?” Julian asked, in a serious tone. He paused a few moments before continuing. “I probably shouldn’t tell you, but perhaps when you hear this you’ll believe me. Last night, I went to a masquerade, and met a . . . well, a very charming, very exquisite lady.”

Harry felt her heart begin to pound at his description. He’d found Diana
charming
?
Exquisite
? “What happened?”

“She told me she was looking for a lover,” said Julian, looking troubled. “I must be honest with you, Harry. She tempted me, more than I’ve ever been tempted before. I was going to kiss her, and then I just couldn’t.”

Somehow, Harry found her lips had gone dry. She licked them, and managed to croak out the question, “Why?”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of losing
you
. Harry, I promise I’ll stay here in Kent with you always. We need never go back to London, or anywhere else. Just say you’ll marry me!”

“You would make such a sacrifice? Just to marry me? Why?” she asked, not wanting to hope, but unable to stop herself.

“Because I love you!”

She stared at him. If her heart was pounding before, it was galloping now.

“I know you still think of me as a friend, perhaps even as a brother. But Harry, we are not brother and sister. Your feelings might change, if you let them. Will you try?”

She gazed into his eyes. She’d never seen them blaze with such emotion. For
her
?