Page 24 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
“Come on.” Violet snapped her fingers. “Or I will drag you out of this room.”
“Do you think you could?” Juliet asked with a smile of humour. “You are smaller than me.”
“And yet I can be more determined.”
“Ha! Well, it would be entertaining to see you try.”
“Come on, Juliet.” Violet sighed heavily and sat tall in her seat. “Unless you would like our mother and father in here asking what is wrong with you, please tell me what is truly bothering you.”
Juliet shifted in her seat, adjusted the cushion, and looked out of the window once more. After her accident, her mother and father had practically swaddled her for one evening, scarcely leaving her company. It had left her trapped with her thoughts, trapped in feelings of betrayal to her family.
“I have seen him again.”
“What?” Violet jerked very far forward, managing to knock more cushions off the window seat in her movement. “Him? As in,himfrom the ball? The one that you –”
“Shh.” Juliet urged and cast a wary glance at the door, though at least it was shut. “Yes, him.” She told Violet about how he was the one to find her after her carriage went off the road and into a ditch and how he had helped her home.
“Well, it sounds like the stuff of romantic novels,” Violet sighed dramatically and clasped her hands together. “I still do not understand how this led to you hiding in your chamber.”
“He is the Marquess of Ashton.”
The happy smile on Violet’s face vanished, and her hands dropped into her lap. For a moment, there was just silence between them. Neither of them said anything, and the only movement was the sudden manic blinking of Violet’s eyes.
“No,” she murmured after a moment. “That is not possible.”
“Oh, it is.” Juliet nodded. “He is the son of the man our father argued with all those years ago. The son of the family that our father wants nothing to do with –”
“I remember the story.” Violet held her head in her hands. “For how many years did the two of us hear it talked of repeatedly. How our father was certain that when the Duke of Lantham didn’t deny the sabotage, our father had no choice but to believe it. The suspicion drove a rift between them all, and they have not talked since.”
“Not only that.” Juliet shook her head. “Do you not remember what happened to our aunt?”
Violet sat back in her seat now, though she didn’t release her face from her hands. She looked more as if she was debating hiding from the world permanently.
Before any more could be said between them, there was a light knock on the door.
“Come,” Violet called, releasing her face. Juliet looked at her sister accusingly, who just shrugged. “I asked your lady’s maid to bring us some tea to share.”
The door opened, and Meg walked in. Almost twice Juliet’s age, with a warm and friendly face, Meg was practically a member of the family to Juliet rather than just a maid.
“Thank you, Meg.” Juliet smiled at her as Meg approached, laying down a tray on the table in front of the pair of them. “This is very kind.”
“Any time, My Lady.” Meg bobbed a curtsy as she always did, then went around the chamber and started tidying up the mess Juliet had left that morning when she had struggled to drag herself out of bed.
“This cannot be happening,” Violet murmured again. “Lord Edward of Ashton? No.” At the words, Juliet caught sight of Meg across the room. She nearly dropped one of the pillows she was fluffing on the bed and turned to look at the pair of them, but she said nothing.
“What we say, Meg …” Juliet began, but Meg was already nodding.
“You need not fear. What we say in this room always stays within these walls,” Meg added softly.
“Thank you.” Juliet returned her focus to her sister. “You remember our aunt? Dear Aunt Emily.”
“She has never been the same since our father insisted he broke off her engagement to the Duke of Lantham’s brother. Do you know, I overheard our father once saying that he was convinced Emily would find someone else to marry. She never did, did she?” Violet asked as she poured out the tea for the pair. “If you ask me, our father underestimated just how devoted Emily was to her betrothed.”
“She loved him.” Juliet knew it to be the truth. She had a strange memory from being a child one Christmas when Emily came to stay. Emily had sat for a long time in a chair beside the fire, fiddling with a ring attached to the necklace at her throat.
When Juliet had asked her in innocence what the ring had meant, Emily had smiled in a way Juliet had never seen her do before. Emily’s only answer had been,‘it’s something I cherish from someone I love.’
Maybe she still loves him?
