She exhaled and buried her face in her towel, the events of the last ten minutes replaying in her mind’s eye. Had she given herself away? Had she said or done anything that would give him reason to believe she was anything but the strong, unaffected woman she wanted to portray? The chime of the clock yanked her from her thoughts. There was no use in sitting here wondering if she’d made a slip. She needed to get downstairs and see what Lord Presumptuous had to say.
Twenty five minutes later, Juliet scurried into the drawing room wearing a simple blue muslin frock. She’d hate to be late to her interview.
“Juliet,” her husband said, standing up with such an abrupt movement his knee hit the edge of the tea set and almost knocked it off the table.
Juliet blinked at him. Something was different about him. She didn’t know what, but she wasn’t going to question it. “Yes, my lord?” She forced herself to look into his deep brown eyes. You can do this, Juliet. You can look him in the eye. Forget he was so thoughtless as to walk in on your bath and not leave until long after any polite gentleman would have.
“Will you sit down for a minute?” He waited for her to take a seat before he sat on the settee across from her. He cleared his throat and smiled at her.
“Is there a problem?” She honestly doubted there was a problem, but the way he was looking at her gave her the queerest feeling in her stomach. She didn’t like that. She had come here at his request. He needed to get on with what he wanted to say, and soon.
“No, there’s no problem. Actually, I have some good news.” His smile grew a bit broader. “We’ve been invited to a dinner party to be held at Lord and Lady Watson’s estate. Would you like to accompany me?”
A knot the size of Kate’s head formed in her stomach. “D-do I have to go?” she stammered, forcing a nervous smile to her lips.
“You don’t have to,” he said, a frown tugging on his lips. “But I’d like it if you did.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my wife.”
Of course. He needed her there. Her first instinct was to grind her teeth at his obvious attempt to use her to keep up appearances. Her second instinct was to brain him for using her yet again! Was there no end to his manipulations? “I don’t think I’d like to attend.” She stood to leave before she really did brain him.
He jumped to his feet and gripped her elbow. “Is there a reason you don’t wish to go?” His eyes searched hers.
“Yes, you’re using me!”
His jaw clamped together. “No, I’m not. Why would you think that?”
She just stared at him. What had he ever done that would make her think he wasn’t using her? “Because you’re Lord Presumptuous,” she burst out at last. “You think you’re better than everyone because of your high and lofty title, so you go around presuming everyone should do what you want and when they don’t, you manipulate them into it.”
“Is that what you think of me?”
Juliet was caught off-guard by the roughness in his whisper. “Yes,” she said honestly. “That is exactly what I think of you. How could I think otherwise? You manipulated me into marrying you so you’d have both a mother and a governess for your daughters, and you don’t appear to be in any rush to rectify the situation.”
“You’re right. I did manipulate you that way, but that will be changing very soon, Juliet. I promise it.” He loosened his hold on her elbow, but didn’t take his fingers away. “I know I cannot change what I’ve done, but I’d like to make amends. Starting by taking you―my wife―to this dinner. Please, allow me this chance to start fresh.”
The unusual emotion she’d detected in his voice gave her pause. He was right, of course, nothing could change what he’d done. But if he’d recognized he’d made a mistake and was doing his best to make amends, she’d be foolish not to accept his efforts even for as weak as they were. “All right,” she agreed, timidly biting her lip.
A grin split his face. “Excellent. Shall I summon Mrs. Somers to come measure you for a new gown?”
Chapter 14
Juliet ran her fingers the length of her green silk stocking. She’d never worn anything so nice in her entire life. She sat down on her bed and looked in the mirror at her reflection while she waited for Mary, her newly hired lady’s maid, to come help her dress. A lot had happened since last week when she’d inadvertently made a show of herself. One of the biggest events had been her husband’s apparent, but undiagnosed, suffering of some sort of brain fever.