The Complete Regency Season Collection. Кэрол Мортимер. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Кэрол Мортимер
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Жанр произведения: Исторические любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474070645
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would Will do? Pay what Arthur demanded? But they would never be safe either from betrayal or from more and more bloodsucking demands. Will was a law-abiding English gentleman: his duty was to hand her over to the authorities, whatever the damage to himself. It was not even as though he loved her, she thought bleakly, sinking on to the edge of the bed to await his judgement. She should not put him in this position, make him decide what to do. She should walk out of here, surrender herself.

      There was a door in the far corner of the dressing room concealed by a screen. It gave on to the service stairs and Nancy used it to bring hot water and to take away the slops. She could use that route, ask at the desk for the nearest magistrates’ court and be there before Will realised what she was doing.

      It all seemed very simple and easy now there was no choice. The important thing was not to think about what would happen afterwards.

      The sound of voices from next door ceased. The outer door closed. Silence. Julia got to her feet and found her reticule. Her cloak and bonnet were on the chair. She should just—

      The bedchamber door opened and Will stood there, framed in the opening. He looked, she realised with a twisting pang of guilt and shame, as though someone had dealt him a mortal blow and he had not yet realised it. ‘I knew you were keeping a secret from me,’ he said, his voice as steady as a judge. ‘I should have listened to my instincts.’

      ‘I could not tell you.’ She found she was on her feet. ‘It would have put you in an impossible position.’

      ‘Not unlike the one I am in now?’ he enquired and walked into the room, pulling the door to behind him with a savage slam that was like a gunshot, terrifying in contrast to his utter calm. ‘I was happy last night, this morning. Pathetic, is it not? I thought we could be content together, I believed my wife loved me.’

      ‘I do!’

      ‘But instead,’ he went on as though she had not spoken, ‘she tells me of her love, so sweetly, so innocently, because she has seen her relatives and knows what will happen when they find her. Did you really think that telling me you loved me would stop me doing the right thing?’

      ‘No,’ Julia protested. ‘Of course not! That is not why I told you. I said it because it was true. I saw them yesterday, I admit it, but I thought I was seeing things in my panic, that they were not real. I always expect to see people accusing me, pointing me out, calling the constables. That is why I am so afraid of crowds.’ The tears welled up and she fought them back with savage resolve. She had to make him believe that she would not use those words to him so cynically. ‘I would not lie to you, Will. Not about that.’

      ‘No? Just about the important things, then? The fact you killed a man?’

      ‘Love is the important thing! Will, I had discovered Jonathan had deceived me. I was in shock, he tried to drag me back to the bed. I refused, but he did not care, he was going to rape me. He dragged me by my wrist and I fell into the hearth amongst all the fire irons. He bent to pull me to my feet and I hit out to stop him. I did not realise the poker was in my hand until it struck him.

      ‘There was so much blood. So much. On my hands, on my body. I screamed. Then I had to wash it off. All that blood. There was a screen half-hidden in the corner concealing the wash stand and water, my clothes. I washed my hands and dressed. I could not bear to be dragged away like that.

      ‘They all came pouring in—the inn guests from the bedchambers, the maids, the innkeeper, everyone. I heard them, but they didn’t seem to notice the screen, or if they did, to realise someone was behind it. And then...’

      ‘Then?’ Will demanded as she faltered to a halt. ‘You tell me no-one saw you at all?’

      ‘They were all crowded round the...body. And a woman had fainted and it was chaos. I came out in my cloak and bonnet and no one looked at me. I moved into the room and became just one of the crowd. Then I slipped downstairs and hid in a cart and escaped. It is the truth,’ she added flatly.

      Will did not comment on that. She noticed and it cut like a knife through her shocked numbness. He did not believe her at all. He thought she had meant to kill Jonathan, perhaps in revenge at his betrayal.

      ‘There was no identification?’ he said. She realised he had been analysing her story.

      ‘I took it all. I burned his cards.’

      ‘Very cool and calm. One could almost say professional. You were certainly composed enough when I found you. I must have seemed like a godsend. I have never considered myself a flat before, an easy mark. It seems I was wrong.’

      ‘If taking pity on someone who needed help and offering them food and shelter makes you a flat, then that is what you were. All I knew was that I was exhausted, frightened, utterly adrift. You offered me respite, a chance to regain a little strength and calm. And then you made me that offer...’

      Will sat down on the nearest chair as though standing was no longer an option. He passed one hand over his face, rubbed his eyes and answered with the weariness of a man who had fought to a standstill but must keep battling on. ‘I made you an offer you could not have dreamt of. You must have been beside yourself with delight.’

      ‘Yes,’ Julia agreed. ‘I was so relieved. I saw some hope. And I knew I could do what you needed in return. Do not pretend I did not,’ she threw at him, some spirit flaring deep inside her. ‘I looked after King’s Acre with devotion. I did my best to help Henry become a worthy heir for you.’

      ‘It would hardly have been safe if you’d been arrested for murder.’ Will pronounced murder as if the word hurt him to utter.

      ‘I considered the odds as best I could. My first name is one no one even thinks of me by. My surname is commonplace. I was hundreds of miles from home. Because of your situation the marriage was not reported outside the neighbourhood. I thought it safe and, if it were not, the authorities would believe I had deceived you.’

      ‘The poor dying man deceived by the wicked murderess?’ Will’s mouth twisted into an ugly smile. ‘And when I returned you were terrified that I might seek an annulment. Of course—that would have made a scandal indeed and it was not my good name you were worried about. How you must have quaked until I consummated the marriage and you were safe. And to think that the worst I considered was that I had been cuckolded in my absence.’

      ‘Yes, I was fearful of a scandal. I will not lie to you. I knew I could not tell you.’ His face darkened. ‘Will, if I had not married you then you would be dead now. Henry, with no guidance, would be ruining King’s Acre.’

      ‘So dragging my name and honour in the gutter was actually a favour to me?’ He looked down at his clasped hands. ‘Finding that the woman I was becoming...attached to had killed and lied and deceived me was not supposed to hurt?’

      ‘You never truly trusted me, did you? Julia said. He had become attached to her. ‘Thank God you never grew to love me.’

      ‘Thank God, indeed.’ He stood up and went to the door. ‘You will stay here.’

      She would not beg him to save her. How could he, even if he wanted to? And besides, she had deceived him and, perhaps, brought him to ruin. ‘I did not think it would come to this. I thought that if I was discovered it would be by the authorities and I would have some warning to be able to vanish before they could catch me and hurt you. What are you going to do?’

      Will looked back at her and suddenly she saw him as he had been when she first met him, when she had thought him an old man. The skin was tight over those strong bones, the colour had left his face, his eyes were stark and full of anger. ‘I have no idea. Think, I suppose. I have promised those bloodsucking relatives of yours that I will write to them by the end of tomorrow with my decision.’

      This time he closed the door slowly, quietly, behind him. The key turned. He thought he had imprisoned her.

      Think. She must think, too, and not give way to the tears or the paralysis of fear. Jonathan was dead. Nothing she could do would bring him back. He had no family in need to whom she