Chapter 27 #2
He shrugged. “You still would be if you could find another duke than I. I would never have married you. I never intended to marry anybody. But now that Madeline is in my life, I would accept no other bride.”
She gave a wry smile. “I always liked that about you, Tristan. You knew my worth, and your loyalty is thoroughly worth having. I like that in a man. Let me be plain, then. Half of my power—more than half, I’d say—comes from the men I ally myself with.
I require a powerful lover, and you were the best.”
“The best lover or the most powerful?”
“Both,” she responded. “I only want things to go back to the way they were, Tristan. Surely you can oblige me.”
“And if I can’t?”
She winced. “I don’t wish to make your life difficult.”
He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward, ignoring the crunch of stale breadcrumbs on the unwiped tabletop.
“You had better not be making threats, Juliana. If you dare level threats toward me or mine, I shall ruin you by tonight. Why don’t you leave London? You would thrive in the Americas.”
“Would I?”
“Yes. If you go, I’ll buy your ticket and pay whatever sum you think necessary. I was always a generous man, was I not?”
Juliana clicked her tongue. “Were you not listening? I told you that I wanted things to go back to the way they were. I want to be your mistress again, even if in name only. If you only want to share your bed with that bespectacled bride of yours, I’ll not object.
She’s an interesting woman, and if she can capture your heart where I cannot, then I shall lift my hat to her.
But I want to be known publicly as your mistress. ”
Tristan heaved a long, tired sigh. “Under no circumstances, my dear Juliana.”
She turned an interesting shade of red. “Well, if you do not, I shall spread the truth about who you are, Your Grace.”
There was a long, taut silence. Tristan eyed Juliana for a long moment, trying to gauge what she was trying to tell him.
“What on earth do you mean?” he murmured at last.
She tossed her head. “I know your past. I shall tell all if I have to. All I shall say to you, Tristan, is that I know.”
He eyed her with increasing interest. “Why, I do believe that you’re telling the truth.”
She sniffed. “Of course I am.”
“And how did you find out?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does,” he responded thoughtfully, “but not now. You have overstepped, Juliana, and I’m sorry.
This time tomorrow, I shall send you a ticket to the Americas and more than enough money to make your life comfortable there.
You will never speak a word of your suppositions, not that anybody would ever believe you.
You will lead a wonderful life in the Americas—they’ll love you, I wager.
I imagine you will supplement the money I give you with your singing and acting.
If not, you can retire and live a modest sort of life.
The choice is yours. However, one thing is entirely certain.
You will accept that ticket, and you will leave. ”
Juliana gave an outraged snort. “Or what?”
He rose slowly to his feet, his gaze fixed almost curiously on her.
“Or you shall be found floating in the Thames, my dear. And if I ever see you near my family again, you will wish I had sent you even further away.”
He slipped out of the booth and made to stride down the aisle. The ugly, smelly shop was suddenly filling him with anger, and he was keen to get out. However, he heard the rustle of Juliana’s gown as she slid out of the booth, probably boiling with rage.
“Family?” she spat out. “You consider them your family? What on earth for?”
Tristan turned on his heel and strode back toward her, taking satisfaction in seeing Juliana recoil a little, fear flashing across her face.
“You are speaking of my wife, Juliana,” he murmured, quiet and earnest and thoroughly menacing. “My wife and the baby we are raising together. How could they be anything other than family?”
Juliana swallowed hard, the fear still flashing in her eyes.
“Not all of us have the luxury of family,” she whispered, and for a moment, Tristan felt a pang of something that was almost regret. No, not regret. Pity.
“Family does not always fall into one’s lap, Juliana,” he admitted. “How many chances have I ignored in my life? Do not be like me. If a chance for love comes near, you had better snap it up if you can. In the Americas.”
She glanced away and bit her lip. “I shall try my best, Tristan.”
He did not bother to correct her to Your Grace, and instead thrust out his hand.
“Have we a bargain?” he asked gently.
She nodded tightly and shook his hand.
“I did not mean to push you so far. I suppose I had better leave, since I have made it so clear you are my target.”
“You will do well there, I think. My guilt is assuaged by the fact that I know you did not truly love me.”
Juliana snorted, shaking her head. “No, I did not. But I could have, given the chance. I would have liked to, you know.”
“I understand.” He turned to leave, but she spoke again, stopping him in his tracks.
“It is not just me you should punish in this matter, Your Grace.”
Tristan swallowed hard and turned slowly back to face her.
She met his eye squarely and fearlessly, and he raised an eyebrow.
“I cannot imagine that I’ll like what you have to say,” he said at last, tiredly, “but I think that I must hear it anyway. Go on, Juliana. Say what you must.”