Page 12 of His Scandalous Viscountess
Ros sat straight up on a gasp. “Never say you did!”
Feeling very much like the cat that ate the cream, Julia nodded. “Oh, but I did, and I enjoyed every moment of it.”
Her sister’s cheeks grew to such a violent shade of magenta, Julia was almost certain Ros was having an apoplexy. “Drink some tea and calm down. It was necessary, or at least I thought it was.”
“What do you mean? Did something go wrong?”
Ros was instantly distracted from her shock by the notion.
“No, not so much wrong, as not effective. The night of the Swinton dinner Wallthorpe cornered me alone in the study, and informed me that once we married, the stain of my auction would be wiped away. So I’d say the auction wasn’t quite enough to tarnish me. I’m thinking I’ll have to up the ante there. Would you agree a bit of gambling is in order?”
“Julia! I should think the auction was enough, and if not, then we need to seek another option.” Ros crossed her arms in defiance. “Regardless, what has that to do with Wolfington?”
“Wolf found us and promptly dealt with Wallthorpe, sending him on his way. But the real issue came to light when Wolf proposed marriage.”
Julia’s gut twisted as she once more remembered how the man had stomped all over her heart with his emotionless proposal.
“Why, that’s brilliant, of course!” Ros replied, clapping excitedly. “If you are married to Wolfington, you cannot possibly marry Wallthorpe.”
Julia raised her hand, palm forward. “Cease. I declined his offer.”
Her sister terminated her excited motions. “But I don’t understand. Why?”
“Because he offered it as mere protection. He did not do so out of love for me.” Julia struggled to rein in an unexpected surge of emotion. “I am quite certain he made the offer out of a sense of duty. Or worse, in an attempt to make reparations for his failure to protect me from my marriage to the elder Wallthorpe.”
Restless, she stood and paced across the sitting room. “And having suffered a marriage—however short—to a man I did not love, I shall not do it again.”
One furious tear slipped down her cheek despite all her best efforts to staunch the flow.
Instantly, her sister flew to her side and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Of course not. No one would expect you to stay married. I am positive Wolfington would release you as soon as it was possible.”
“It makes no difference. I shall not solve my problem by marrying him.” Julia looked at her sister, her eyes still watering even as she dashed her tears away. “I’m afraid if I did I wouldn’t be strong enough to walk away when it was time to let him go.”
Ros leaned back from their embrace. “Oh, poor dear, you’ve never stopped loving him. Have you?”
Unable to say the words, Julia simply shook her head. “I’ve tried everything I can to purge him from my heart. But despite the knowledge that he once left me to our parents’ mercy, I cannot hate him as I should. And I cannot stop the surfeit of emotion that comes whenever he is near. The night at The Market nearly undid me. I can only imagine what marrying him would do to my heart.”
~
Julia’s palms were sweaty within her gloves as she smoothed her skirts down beneath her cloak. She climbed the steps of Lucifer’s, hesitating when the door swung open. A burst of laughter rang out through the night, followed by the snarl of angry voices. And then, as she cleared the entry, a big burly man strode by, carrying another man by his belt and the neck of his garments. The doors remained wide open, allowing the intimidating man to hurl his burden out into the street.
“And don’t come back. Lucifer’s won’t abide a cheater.”
Then the giant turned and saw her standing in the foyer between the two gambling rooms, her eyes wide.
A slim butler-like man shut the doors and then stepped around the giant. “May I take your cloak, madam?”
Struck speechless, Julia merely nodded and pulled the string holding her cloak closed at her neck. Almost in a daze, she handed off her outer garment to the servant and tracked the giant’s stride as he approached the stairs that would carry him to the upper level of the gambling den.
He turned and looked at her, studying her for a moment, as though taking her measure. “Please feel free to make yourself at home.”
Then he waved toward the tables that teemed with men and women alike, deep in the throes of gambling.
Julia nodded and turned to walk around one side of the establishment, taking in the commotion. No stranger to gambling, she appreciated the excitement of the activity around her, yet found no pleasure in the abject waste of money. But she was here to both be seen and to play heavily, and more importantly, tolose heavily.
Wallthorpe had to be thwarted by the notion of such largesse on her part. After all, no man wanted a spendthrift for a wife. Although she had also thought no man would want a woman steeped in a sexual scandal, and he had proven her wrong on that count. She sighed at her predicament. Her dead husband’s son was proving to be more problematic than he had been when she had first come out. At least during that time, he’d merely been content to leer at her from across a ballroom. Even then, he’d made her shudder.
Pushing aside her doubts and worries, she focused on her current goal. She needed to lose and look like she didn’t have a care in the world while doing so.
