Silk and Secrets(22)

Though Juliet knew it would be wiser not to reminisce, she found herself saying quietly, "It's strange. Dressed this way, with you across the table, I feel like Lady Ross Carlisle again."

"But you aren't Lady Ross Carlisle," he said expressionlessly. "Not anymore."

Juliet froze, all of her muscles temporarily numb. In its way, this was an even greater shock than seeing Ross lying apparently lifeless on the road. Though her final note to her husband had urged him to divorce her, she had been selfishly glad that he had not done so.

Through all the years and miles of separation, she had found secret comfort in the knowledge that they were still husband and wife, that an invisible thread of connection joined her to Ross. Losing that bond hurt more than she would have dreamed possible.

Forcing her voice to be level, she said, "So you finally got a divorce, as I suggested all of those years ago. I'm surprised that my lawyer did not inform me, but likely the letter was lost." She set the plate of pastries on the table, then sat down again, hiding her hands so that he would not see them trembling. "Have you remarried?"

"I have not divorced you. English law hasn't changed, and the only ground is still adultery." He stirred sugar into his coffee. Quite without inflection he continued, "Your progress through the Mediterranean generated a number of rumors, and if even a quarter of them were true, you were providing a positive embarrassment of riches in the way of evidence of adultery. However, obtaining a bill of divorcement is a very sordid, very public process. I did not want to subject myself or my family to that. There had been quite enough scandal about our marriage, and I was already quite enough of a laughingstock." Though Ross's voice did not lose its softness, pain and anger pulsed just below his surface composure.

For one of the very few times in her life, Juliet found herself literally speechless as an unholy mixture of shock and guilt surged through her. Taking a deep breath, she focused on what he had said earlier. "If you didn't divorce me, why did you say that I am no longer Lady Ross Carlisle? Surely it was not possible to annul the marriage."

"No, it was not. We are still legally husband and wife." His gaze was ironic, as if he could read the maelstrom of emotions that he had set off. Perhaps he could. "My brother died last autumn and left no sons, so you are now the Marchioness of Kilburn. Congratulations. If we both live long enough, you will be the Duchess of Windermere."

Curiously, her first reaction was neither relief that they were still married nor anger that he had deliberately baited her. Instead, she felt sympathy. "Ross, I'm so sorry."

Impulsively she laid her hand over his, where it rested on the table. "I know that you never wanted to be the heir."

Though his hand did not move, the tendons went rigid under her touch. Very carefully, as if Ross were a fused bomb, Juliet withdrew her own hand. "Or have you changed your mind about that? What seemed like a prison when you were twenty-one might look like a prize now that you are older. Most men would not be sorry to inherit a dukedom."

"I haven't changed my mind." He gave her a wry half-smile. "You were the only person who ever understood. When other people hear that I'm now Lord Kilburn, they react to the news with congratulations, as if surviving my brother is some great achievement on my part."

"It's ironic that now everything will come to you, even though you don't want it. But you will use the Windermere wealth and influence better than your brother would have. He had a small soul." After a fractional pause Juliet continued, "Of course, now it is much more important that you have an heir. I don't blame you for wanting to avoid the notoriety of divorce. If you want to take another wife, I swear I will never come to England or cause trouble in any way."

"You've been in the East too long, Juliet." Ross's brows arched. "While Muslims may have several wives, in England such behavior is called bigamy and it's quite illegal."

"I didn't mean that!" she said with exasperation. "You can have me declared dead. It wouldn't be hard to produce some kind of proof for the English authorities. Then you would officially be a widower and could marry again without scandal."

He regarded her thoughtfully. "My father always said that the female of the species is ruthlessly practical, and he was right. Frankly, even if I were free to remarry, I would not do so, for I have neither the stamina nor the optimism to take another wife. The ancient Windermere title and extravagant Windermere fortune can go to one of my second cousins when the time comes." He chuckled suddenly. "But thank you for making the offer. While wrong-headed, it was generous of you."