Chapter 21
“Lady Verity, you have a visitor.”
Verity swung her legs over the side of the sofa, where she had been reading her book in the sunlight beaming through the window.
Truthfully, she had hardly registered a word, for she had been distracted by her own musings, regarding Julian and the diamond and who the mysterious letter writer could be, but she had sent her aunt a letter earlier that week, so there was nothing else she could do at present but wait.
She pressed her hands together, unable to prevent her desperate hope that it was Julian come to call upon her, but her hopes were dashed when the butler bowed and then stepped back, revealing her visitor’s identity.
“Lord Eastclere,” he announced, and then moved to allow the marquess to enter.
Verity had to still her face so her wince wouldn't show.
“Your chaperone shall be but a moment, Lady Verity,” the butler noted, remaining in the entrance.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said as Lord Eastclere walked toward her, as cold and stoic as ever. “It is good to see you.”
“I hope you mean that,” he said in clipped tones, and she raised her eyebrows in response. “I must speak to you.”
“Of course. Please come in. I shall call for tea.”
Her heart thumped in her chest as her maid, Lily, brought the tea and told Verity that her mother had asked her to stay as a chaperone.
Verity nodded, knowing that her mother was giving her the least possible oversight because she was encouraging this match.
She sighed inwardly. Was she the only one who didn’t want this to go forward?
Was she being a fool not to just accept his courtship—and his hand?
Verity thought she had been clear the last time they had spoken, but it seemed that he was still looking for a response, even though the response he sought was not the one she wanted to give.
He took a seat, not saying much of anything at all until she had poured tea for both of them.
“I will get right to it,” he said, and Verity nodded, both relieved and apprehensive at the lack of idle chatter. “When we last spoke at the musicale, you told me that you were not interested in pursuing any further attachment to me, and I asked you to consider it further.”
“You did. But—”
“I have come to understand that you might have formed an attachment with Lord Julian Hartford, which could be the reason for your reluctance.”
Verity tried to disguise her responding emotion.
“Julian and I are friends,” she said truthfully.
“However you describe it, I was wondering if you knew that your friend was seen entering the premises of a widow last night, for… entertainment? I realize this is a delicate topic, Lady Verity, but I believe that you must know the full truth of the situation before you connect yourself to him in any way.”
Verity swallowed hard, gripping her teacup tightly. She and Julian had never made any promises to one another, and the intimacies they had shared meant much more to her than they ever would to Julian, and yet… it still hurt to think that he could go to another so soon after all they had shared.
“Lord Julian and I have no promises to one another,” she said, proud of herself for not allowing her voice to shake as much as it might have, even as she told herself that she shouldn’t believe anything until she actually spoke to Julian—although who was she to ask him to explain himself?
“I did not lie when I told you I had no promise from another. He can do as he pleases without permission from me.”
“Well, it is something for you to consider before you ever enter any more serious attachment with him. You must also consider what rumors about the two of you together could do to your reputation,” Lord Eastclere said, but before Verity could respond, the butler was back in the doorway.
“Lady Verity, Lord Julian is also here to see you. I told him you were occupied, but—”
Lord Eastclere regarded her with an expression that suggested he knew perfectly well she had been less than truthful about her attachment to Julian.
Yet there was also a hint of smug satisfaction in his gaze, as though he were eagerly anticipating what was to come.
He was clearly pleased with himself—and with the information he had just imparted.
“I have said what was required,” Lord Eastclere said. “I shall leave you to your next conversation. Good day, Lady Verity.”
“Good day, Lord Eastclere,” she said, watching the two men pass one another in the doorway.
The tension that suddenly escalated was obvious even from where she sat across the room, and her hands tightened in her lap, as she knew it was over her, which was nearly inconceivable.
Just a few months ago, she couldn’t think of a man who even noticed her.
When Lord Eastclere left, she sighed in relief when the tension followed him out.
No matter what Julian had to say, whether or not Eastclere’s words about him were true, she could trust him not to make her feel that anything was her fault, that she was not required to make any decisions that could put herself at risk.
Still, his face hardened with anger as he walked into the room, not taking the seat across from her but instead sitting beside her, so close that she could feel the heat through his clothing, the hardness of his thigh against hers.
He reached out, taking her hand in his.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said, but heard the slight tremble in her voice, one that she instantly tried to still.
“I heard what he said to you,” Julian said, that furrow between his brows not going anywhere. “I need you to know that it’s a lie. It is all a lie. I never went to another woman. I have not even thought of another woman in ages. Not since you and I began our lessons together.”
She bit her lip, nodding. She knew she was likely a fool to believe his words, but at the same time, she trusted him. Julian was many things—a gambler, a rogue, a prankster—but he was not a liar. That much she was certain about.
And he had no reason to lie to her. They were not attached. They were not married. They were not courting. They were two people, learning, taking, and giving, but not connected.
“It seems that Eastclere will bow to any means necessary in order to convince you that he would be the better option for you.”
She finally looked toward him, meeting his eyes. “How does he even know that you and I are—well, whatever understanding may exist between us?”
“We have spent enough time together that it has become noticeable, I suppose. It is hard to say for certain. People talk. Servants talk. Apologies,” he said, inclining his head Lily’s way.
“Lily would never share my secrets,” Verity said protectively of her lady’s maid.
“I can understand that. You produce a loyalty in people, Verity. No one understands that better than me. But Eastclere is obviously a problem that is not going to leave you until you do something about it.”
“I told him that I was not interested.”
“He no longer seems to care. Now that I am involved, it’s likely become something of a competition to him. One he wants to win.”
“The worst of it is that it’s not even me that he wants, but my dowry.”
The light in Julian’s eyes dimmed somewhat at that, confusing Verity.
She studied him, long and hard. She had trusted him to help her find a way out of this, but while he had likely done all he could to find a solution, she could tell a solution wasn’t coming. Not for her.
“There’s no way out of this, is there?” she sighed.
“Lord Eastclere isn’t going to stop until I agree to marry him.
He’ll ruin my reputation if he has to. He’ll fabricate stories.
He’ll go to any extremes. And with my father agreeing that this is the best path forward, I don’t have any other option. ”
“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” Julian muttered, turning away from her but not dropping her hand. “If we could find evidence that Eastclere was behind the diamond theft, perhaps we could threaten him with exposure. Make him back off.”
“To prove what? That he stole his own diamond back? The only crime would be if he took the guarantee payment for it, but I have no idea how we would ever determine that.” She paused, closing her eyes and letting the truth fill her—that her future was changing, whether she liked it or not.
She had been resisting it, so sure that there would be another way, but it was time she faced the truth.
“I think it is best I accept what lies ahead, Julian,” she said with a sad smile for him.
“I was deceiving myself to think that I could avoid marriage. I had thought I could live as my aunt has, out in the country, alone, but she has always had my father to take care of her. I don’t have a brother.
Someday, this estate will pass to Eastclere, who will now be far less likely to care for me, and I could be left with absolutely nothing and no way to support myself. ”
“It cannot be like this,” Julian said almost desperately. “No one should be forced into a marriage they do not want.”
“It happens all the time, Julian, and it could be worse.” Verity shrugged. “While Lord Eastclere is cold, he is not cruel.”
“I have witnessed a cold marriage, and it is not one I would recommend,” Julian said, his words harsh as he crossed his arms and stood, pacing the room, surprising Verity, for he was not prone to agitation.
But then, he was also not a man who typically took the time to deeply consider such situations.
Verity silently allowed him to move, willing him to finally just accept the situation, as she had.
He stopped suddenly, turning, staring at her intently before striding toward her, his footsteps muted by the thick carpet beneath his feet.
His gaze was so intent as he came to a stop in front of her that Verity couldn’t look away even if she had wanted to. He leaned down, placing both of his hands on her knees.
“Marry me.”