“What of an heir, Drake? Don’t you have need of one of those?” she rebutted. Whether they had ten more daughters and no sons, it mattered naught to her, but his title demanded he father a son. It was her last, and strongest, appeal.
“My cousin can inherit,” he said dismissively. “When I was married to Abigail, I felt my biggest responsibility was to sire an heir. Now, I’m a little older and understand there are more important things than duty and responsibility to a title.”
Tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision. “Is that the way of it then? You make such a decision and I’m forced to accept it?”
“Forced?” he scoffed. He shook his head. “You have no idea what forced is, Juliet. Abigail was forced to have three children, and didn’t even live through the birth of the last one. You should be thankful I care enough about you not to force you to do that.”
“Of course,” she whispered, understanding crashing about her ears. Abigail. This wasn’t really about Juliet at all, it was about Abigail. Though Juliet had been fortunate he’d never openly flung in her face how much better Abigail had been at everything from her wifely duties to being the perfect mother, the truth was, Drake still thought it. Juliet could never compare. Perhaps he’d been right and this was the best way to protect everyone involved. This way he’d never be torn between showering love and affection on the girls he’d made with the woman he’d loved and being forced to pass down a title to a son born of the woman he didn’t.
A new wave of dizzying sickness settled in the pit of her stomach, then spread throughout her body. This was really it. The way it would always be. Abigail would always win. She’d always have Drake’s heart and children, and now she’d have Juliet’s dreams, too.
Numbly, she walked from the room, ignoring Drake’s commands for her to stay. There was no reason for her to argue with him any longer. He’d made his choice, and it wasn’t her.
Chapter 26
Juliet wandered the house she’d grown used to, but still didn’t feel right calling home, until nearly midnight before finding an old familiar room in which to spend the night. The next morning, she woke about dawn. Still angry with Drake about the events of the previous night, she skipped her morning meal opposite the table from him in the breakfast room for more favorable company. On her way upstairs to have breakfast with the girls, Links intercepted her.
“A note, my lady,” he said, holding a silver salver out toward her.
Juliet plucked the parchment from the salver and nodded his dismissal as her eyes scanned the familiar script. Reminding herself to take deep breaths, Juliet changed her course to the library where she dashed off a few notes of her own then set out to find the girls. She’d grown quite attached to them, and they deserved to hear her tell them goodbye before she went. Though they were too young to fully understand everything, they were not too young for her absence to go unnoticed. Besides, she owed them this much. She may not have won their father’s love, but she’d certainly won theirs and it would be rude, not to mention heartless, to leave without the courtesy of telling them goodbye.
“Girls,” she said quietly, stepping into the nursery to find they’d just finished breakfasting. “I’d like a word with you before you begin your studies.”
“Yes?” Celia asked, smoothing her skirts.
Juliet sank into the chair Miss Grant had graciously vacated to afford them a bit of privacy. She cleared her throat, her mind racing to think of what to say to the girls. She had to leave before anything else happened, but didn’t want to blurt everything out and cause them any undue worry. “Girls, I have to go away on an errand for a while.”
“Are you and Papa going to London?” Helena asked, an excited gleam in her eyes.
Juliet shook her head. “Not this time. I need to go do something alone this time.”
Celia’s brows snapped together. “Alone? But you never go anywhere alone.”
“I know,” Juliet acknowledged. “But this time I have to―”
“Girls, say your goodbyes to Juliet,” Drake clipped, coming into the room. The hard set of his jaw and icy tone sent a chill down Juliet’s spine. “Her carriage is waiting out front.”
Juliet stood. She’d looked for him after she’d received her father’s note, but when she couldn’t find him, she’d written a note for him to find explaining the details of why she had to leave. “Drake,” she greeted.
He bridled, then nodded curtly. “If you’re done with your goodbyes, I’ll be happy to escort you out.”