“But she said she wasn’t,” Helena argued. She crossed her little arms and cast inquisitive eyes on him.
“She is,” he confirmed. “Say, why don’t the three of you go find Mrs. Jenkins and tell her I said you may go down to the kitchen for a treat since this is her last day here? I’ll make sure you get to see your new motherness...er...mother...er...Juliet once more before bedtime.”
Excited at the prospect of one of Cook’s famous tarts, his three girls quit the room without further argument, leaving Patrick completely alone with his self-condemning thoughts.
He should have treated her better today, he thought, dropping down onto the nearest settee. Even if she wasn’t the woman he’d thought he was marrying, he should have treated her better until he’d had time to sort through everything.
With what felt like the hundredth sigh so far that day, he racked his brain to think of how to make this up to her. No doubt she thought him a blackhearted arse. He’d have to do something to charm her into forgiveness. But what? In all the years he’d been married to Abigail, he’d never blundered this badly. Well, almost never, he amended with a bitter twist of his lips. For the most part, though, any time he had done something to upset her, he’d been able to buy her forgiveness with nothing more than another piece of jewelry. Juliet didn’t seem the sort who put much stock in things like jewels or fancy attire. He’d have to think of another way to get on friendlier terms with her.
“You requested my return,” chirped an unhappy Juliet from the doorway.
Patrick took to his feet. “Yes. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to an empty spot on the settee.
She didn’t budge.
“Come now,” he encouraged, patting the backrest of the settee.
“Why?” she ground out, leaning against the doorjamb with a stubborn, bullheaded look on her face.
For as difficult as she was making this, he had to admit he admired her determination. “Juliet,” he began softly, “please come sit. I want nothing more than to apologize to you.”
“I can hear your apology from here.”
He casually crossed his arms. She was a stubborn one, wasn’t she? “All right, fine. Stay there.”
Her face and eyes didn’t soften a fraction.
Patrick ran his fingers through his hair and let out a pent up breath. “Juliet, I’m sorry I’ve treated you so poorly today. You didn’t deserve it.”
“No, I didn’t,” she agreed coldly. “But that matters naught now. You can’t change what you’ve done.”
“Yes, I know," he conceded. “I’m trying to make it right.”
“I don’t see why that’s necessary,” she argued with a simple shrug. “You didn’t wish to marry me, and you made it clear. There’s really nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes, there is,” he nearly snapped. “I didn’t know you were you. I thought you were...”
“My sister,” she supplied for him. “Yes, I thought as much.”
Patrick closed his eyes and ground his teeth to keep tight rein on his temper at both her bluntness and accuracy. Perhaps it was best at this point to charm her. All women liked to have a handsome man fall over themselves for them, didn’t they? “Juliet,” he said silkily, spreading his lips into what he honestly hoped was a wolfish smile, “I may have been expecting to see your sister, but I was expecting to marry you. You’re the one I want.”
A delightful peal of laughter that did unusual things to his stomach came from where his wife stood in the doorway. “You are ridiculous, my lord.”
“Ridiculous?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “You’re playing the rake-who’s-just-found-the-woman-he-claims-can-reform-him routine will not work with me.”
He stared at her unblinkingly. Is that what she took away from that? No matter. “All right,” he drawled, “I can see I’m nowhere near making my way into your good graces, am I?”
The question was rhetorical since it was obvious she wasn’t about to give him an inch. However, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing when her lips thinned and she said, “No, you’re not. And another round of theatrics isn’t going to help.”
“What will help?”
“An annulment should do nicely, I should think,” she said calmly, the hard set in her face indicating just how serious she was.
“No,” he told her firmly. “An annulment is not an option. What else?”
“There’s nothing else I want.”