Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
J uliet stared into the flames. She hugged her knees to her body and blinked back tears.
For a brief moment, the meeting at the mere had taken on a magical quality. It had been otherworldly. She and Horatio had been the only beings in existence. A world defined by the protective ring of trees around the still lake. In that circle, they could do whatever they wished without consequences.
And they had. She had seen Horatio in a state of undress—openly stared at his magnificent physique. He had seen her in a condition that only a husband should ever see a woman in.
Did it matter that they were to become husband and wife? She did not think it did. She had behaved recklessly, throwing aside any sense of propriety and reveling in freedom.
But, that magic was now dispelled.
She was all too aware of the proximity of the castle and of who awaited her within its walls. Horatio would not forgive or forget the damage that she had wrought on his life. There would be no ending out of a fairy tale. They would enter a loveless marriage of convenience after which she would be rejected, tossed aside.
She shivered, despite the licking flames which cracked and spat. The symptoms of the illness that had plagued her for the last few years, weakness, fatigue, and thudding palpitations of the heart, began to manifest once more. Physical exertion often had that effect. She closed her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Juliet. Are you… well?” Horatio asked, uncertain.
Juliet raised her head, scrubbing the tears from her cheeks, and rose. “Quite well, Your Grace. Perhaps it is time we found your rowing boat and returned to the castle.”
“My name is Horatio . I would greatly appreciate it if you used it,” he said instead.
“I think you have made clear that informality between us is not welcome,” she replied.
“You stand before me in nothing but your shift, and say that we should not be informal?”
To his credit, his eyes never strayed from her face.
The shift was not entirely dry and Juliet could feel it clinging to her body in several places. Part of her, a rebellious, wicked part of her, wanted him to look.
She could feel her breasts sticking to the material of the shift, knew that they would be outlined for him to peruse. Similarly, the garment clung to her hips. She kept her hands modestly clasped in front of her, covering that part that Adam and Eve covered with fig leaves. She did not know if the thundering of her heart and quickness of her breath was the result of the ailment or the idea of Horatio seeing her body all but naked.
She kept her gaze fixed on his face too, no great hardship for he was remarkably handsome. His features seemed to Juliet to be the very paragon of masculine beauty. A strong jaw, and high cheekbones that gave his eyes an exotic, eastern cast. He might have been a savage warlord. A prince of Eastern Europe where history blended with myth and songs were sung of noble warriors and great battles.
Despite that, she was all too aware of his bare torso. It pulled at her eyes as though exerting a magnetic attraction. Water still gleamed on him here and there. She could see the glint in her peripheral vision. It made butterflies flutter in her stomach, made her squeeze her hands in the material of her shift.
“I merely respond to your words to me. I had thought that the walls between us were falling. I do not think that is the case,” Juliet murmured.
Horatio sighed and rubbed the nape of his neck.
“I do not know what to make of you, Juliet. Your lies as a child condemned me for many years. I became a penniless wanderer. I thought I might starve at one point but for the kindness of strangers. Your sudden swoon left me in an incriminating position where I am now at the mercy of your family. Yet, you do not seem to be as mercenary and calculating as they are.”
“I was a child,” Juliet repeated, brows furrowing, “and in a strange place, surrounded by frightening people determined to see what they wanted in the situation. I was bullied. I do not say that to excuse myself, however. My fear clouded my mind. It seemed to me that I told the truth. I am sorry for that.”
“And the fainting fit that brought us here?” Horatio asked. “It was awfully convenient that you should swoon in a place where you would draw the attention of the entire ballroom.”
Juliet ducked her head. Her illness was something she simply did not share. Edith knew, but no one else. The illness had taken her mother’s life and then her father. Her mother had lived as a pariah because of fear of contagion. That fear had enveloped even her own sister. Juliet had only been taken in when Aunt Margaret was assured by her physician that the child had no evidence of the same condition. Those symptoms had only begun to appear later and Juliet had made every effort to conceal them.
“I can assure you that the timing of my swoon was entirely coincidental. It is not something I can control. And I do not pretend.”
At that moment, her legs trembled. Her heart raced and she could feel the blood draining from her face. This was the presage of a swoon, she had learned to recognize the signs. She planted her feet firmly, praying that he would not notice. To see the fear in his eyes that others had shown upon discovering whose daughter she was—would be too much. Horatio’s eyes narrowed and he took a step closer.
“You have paled and you are trembling. What is wrong?”
He was perceptive. Seeing through her attempt to project strength weakened her further. Trying to lock her knees failed and one leg gave way. She recovered quickly, grabbing at a nearby tree branch to remain upright. But both legs were now quivering and she was becoming breathless.
“Good god!” Horatio exclaimed.
He tore through the makeshift fence he had erected for her modesty and was by her side in an instant. He took her elbow, letting her lean against him. Juliet tried to remain upright on her own but her body betrayed her. She slumped and his arms went about her waist.
In an instant, she was lifted off her feet and nestled in his arms. Her head spun and her vision blurred, narrowing to a pinpoint of light, as though she lay at the bottom of a deep, dark well.
She felt movement. As she flickered in and out of consciousness, she saw trees flashing by. Branches reached for her and were batted aside, whipping back at Horatio but never touching her. Then she felt hardwood beneath her.
Consciousness returned.
She felt washed out, pale and weak. Her heartbeat felt as though it were returning to normal. She was lying in the belly of a wooden rowing boat. Horatio was seated at the prow, preparing oars.
“I will have you back at the castle and under the care of a physician in moments,” he said, pulling strongly at the oars.
Juliet struggled to sit up. “No… that will not be necessary.”
“It certainly will be. That is the second time you have swooned before me with no apparent cause. I know enough about medicine to know the signs of illness when I see them. You are white as a sheet and your pulse was thready and fast.”
“But no physician you summon will be able to help,” Juliet added, “please, Horatio…”
Her hand flitted to his thigh. Slowly, he stopped rowing. Resting his forearms against the oars, he looked at her searchingly.
“And how would you know that?”
“Because… because I know what ailment I suffer from. It killed my mother and there is no cure!”
The effort of saying so much was enough to make her head spin. She tried to pull herself to take the seat opposite him but did not have the strength. Instead, she lay in the bottom of the boat, her head and shoulders propped against the seat.
“No cure? What is this illness?” Horatio growled.
“I do not know what it is called, only that it is extremely rare and little understood. My father traveled all over the world searching for a way to cure my mother. And failed. That failure consumed him at the end, burned him from the inside out,” Juliet murmured. “So, please, do not waste your time.”
Horatio watched her for a long moment. “I have the resources to summon the finest Harley Street physicians from London. And they would arrive in a beat.”
“My father squandered his fortune to do the same thing. They came. And they went.”
Just then, she realized that Horatio had not asked the single question that everyone had always asked upon discovering her mother’s illness. Was it contagious?
“I will not accept that there is no hope,” he muttered instead, meeting Juliet’s eye.
He looked steely and determined. A man not to be crossed or denied. It almost gave her hope. But that was blind optimism. To forget reality and pretend that his determination was all that mattered. That his will could shape the world.
“What does it matter? Does this not fit into your plans perfectly?” she murmured. “Once the scandal has died down, you can annul the marriage, or simply wait for the illness to consume me. You will not even need to conceal the annulment. You will be protected from all gossip.”
Anger coursed through Horatio’s visage. His lips peeled briefly back from bared teeth and he looked away. When he looked back, she could see a fire burning his eyes. It was frightening and exciting at the same time.
“Do you think me so calculating? So much like your Aunt and Uncle?” he whispered softly.
“No,” Juliet replied, tears filling her eyes, “I think you are a man of honor. I merely point out how your life could be made easier by this. I do not wish to burden you any more than I already have.”
“Damn and blast it! You are not a burden, Juliet!” Horatio roared, “I have spent three days trying to forget you. Trying to avoid you and get you out of my head. I have failed and here we are. Now you tell me that you will certainly die and there is no hope! I will not have it!”
Juliet’s heart surged. She bit back a blush, hiding her face. No one had ever expressed such views about her. But, she knew that it could not be. Would never be. It was a fantasy and there was no room in her life for that.
“Whether you accept it or not, it is fact,” Juliet sighed, wearily. “I thank you for the compliment, though. I cannot imagine how I have been able to exert quite such an influence on your thoughts.”
Horatio did not answer but resumed rowing. For a long moment, Juliet remained with her eyes closed, feeling some strength return to her limbs.
“Your beauty drew my eye. Your character drew my thoughts,” Horatio said eventually.
“My character ?” Juliet wondered aloud, genuinely perplexed.
She did not see anything in her character to attract such a man. A man of nobility and wealth who could command the attention of the finest beauties in England if he so chose. A man who would not be out of place in court.
“You are independent. Intelligent and compassionate. I saw that in your concern for a tiny mouse to a stray fox. You have imagination and a depth of soul that most of our rank lack. I saw that in the way you looked at my art.”
Juliet smiled beneath closed eyes. “It was wonderful. You drew the magical from the mundane. Made me want to be amongst those people that you painted, though I know I would not like their company in truth.”
Horatio barked a laugh that sounded genuine. Juliet opened her eyes. His eyes twinkled with mirth and his grin was that of a boy.
“I wholeheartedly agree. Why do you think I made the annual Ravenscourt Ball a masked affair? To hide their tawdry politics behind a glamor of something more romantic.”
The prow of the boat suddenly ground into the shale floor of the lake. Horatio drew in the oars and leaped down, hauling at the boat to draw it further up onto the lakeshore. Juliet rose, shakily and with one hand on the side of the boat but still under her own power.
Horatio stepped forward, and without waiting for permission, once again scooped Juliet into his arms. She obediently put her arms about his neck, feeling lightheaded—but only partly as a result of her earlier faint.
For a long moment, he looked down at her. The proximity of his fathomless dark eyes was intoxicating. Her scandalous dream returned to her. The memory of kissing him and being kissed was so strong, it was almost indistinguishable from reality.