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J ulia couldn’t think. She could only run. Away from the scene, away from the hurt. Away from the husband who had betrayed her.

“Julia—wait.” William shouted somewhere behind her, but she didn’t stop. Not even when the aged Lord Venerton ran past her, nearly knocking her to the ground.

“I knew there was something between the two of you,” a reedy voice hissed.

Julia turned in time to see him deliver a solid blow to William. She was not the only victim.

Her heart clattered in her chest. Heat blazed through her and made the pain in her arm agonizing. The warmth seemed to press into her lungs and fog her brain. She needed to get outside. Just for a moment. Just to breathe.

She raced through the front door and slammed directly into a person. She reeled back and looked up to find Lord Hesterton staring down at her as though she’d grown a second head.

“It’s cold out here, Your Grace.” His obvious statement was delivered with his usual bored drawl.

The chill in the air washed over her like a cool cloth. “I need to get some air,” she gasped. “To just…forgive me, but to just be alone.”

“Now that I understand.” He gave her a soft smile. “Will you at least accept my coat?”

Was she not wearing a coat? Her mind spun. Of course, she wasn’t. She hadn’t time to put one on.

She nodded, and he pulled the coat from his shoulders and draped it over hers. The lining inside was still warm from the heat of his body.

“Thank you,” she said in puff of frozen air and rushed from the house.

He called after her, something she could scarcely make out. But she didn’t ask him to repeat it. She didn’t care. All that mattered was the agonizing chasm filling her chest.

William.

He had betrayed her exactly as her father had done to her mother. She was grateful it had not gone too far. She had not told him she loved him. What a fool she would have been then.

The moon cast its brilliant light overhead and turned the world into a wash of purple blue snow. The wind had stopped, and the night was still.

Lady Venerton.

Louisa.

The vilest of all women.

Julia stiffened.

The vilest of all women.

A woman who easily took what she wanted, even when it was obvious the feelings were not mutual. Julia exclaimed her own stupidity into the night air. She had fallen too quickly on her fears rather than her trust.

She needed to go to William, to get the entire story from him. To know for certain.

A deep, terrible groan came from beneath her feet. Confusion caught her for only a moment and then the terrifying understanding dawned. She had wandered onto the frozen lake.

She spun around to turn in the other direction, when the ice beneath groaned again, and gave a splintering crack.

William held Lord Venerton’s wiry frame back with one arm. The elderly man swung feebly at William, each blow too far away to land.

“I have never had anything to do with your wife, Venerton,” William growled. “See to your wife and leave me be.”

Lord Venerton regarded his wife.

“I’ve never struck a woman.” William glared at Lady Venerton, who staggered drunkenly and regarded them both with a smug, bleary smile. “And I won’t start today,” William continued. “But I’ve never been more tempted.”

With that, he raced down the stairs where Julia had gone. Was she in the library? The drawing room perhaps?

Hesterton waved at him. “I believe your wife has lost her mind.”

William grabbed the marquis by the shoulders. “Where is she?”

“Outside, wandering about on the frozen lake.” Hesterton frowned. “I tried to tell her?—”

Whatever the man said, William didn’t hear. He was already flying out the door to find Julia. The icy air slammed into him and seared his lungs. He searched the moonlit snow until he settled on a figure in the distance. Directly on the lake.

He ran to her, faster than he’d ever run before, and bellowed her name. The figure didn’t move.

“William, don’t come here.” A note pitched Julia’s voice and tugged at his heart.

She didn’t want to see him. But he didn’t give a damn. First, he would get her off the ice, then he would demand she listen, then?—

A crack shattered the silence followed by a startled scream.

William did not hesitate. Not like he had when the house had caught fire and his parents had died. No, this time he lurched forward.

He lowered himself to his chest on the snow-covered ice and called for her to do the same.

Another crack came at the same time he spoke, this one longer and louder than before.

The sound increased with such ferocity, his head snapped up.

No sooner had he done so, Julia fell through the ice with a splash, her scream cut short.

William shoved forward so hard, he glided over the ice to where the hole showed like ink against the white of the snow.

Her slender arms gripped the jagged edge.

He grabbed her forearms and yanked up with all the strength he’d ever possessed.

She flew out of the water and landed at his side, sputtering and blinking.

The ice splintered around them.

“Keep on your stomach and scoot.” He held her hand tightly in his.

She did as he instructed, her movements stiff and jerking. They edged away from the broken ice, but still he did not relax.

Julia slowed, and the puffs of her breath came heavier. She was tiring. William held her hand tighter and pulled her with him in an attempt to ease her efforts.

“I didn’t do it,” he gritted from between his teeth.

“I know.” Her voice was weak.

She was fading. He could lose her still. The shore was still a fair distance away. He gripped her to his side, holding her in his arms as he dragged them both.

“We’re nearly there,” he said by way of encouragement.

The ice snapped somewhere in the distance, a savage beast nipping at their heels. By God, he would get them out of this.

“I’m sorry.” Julia gave a violent shiver. “I shouldn’t have run off.”

They reached the shore. Finally.

He leapt to his feet and lifted her into his arms. Even drenched with icy water, her weight was easily borne.

Carrying her, he made quick work of the walk to the house and met with the very concerned crowd of party guests, most especially Lady Cecelia and Lady Bursbury.

The latter of whom waved her fingers toward the lot of them, shooing them about like small children until a path formed.

“Is she dead?” Lord Mortry peered curiously at her, as William passed.

William glared at him. “No.”

Lady Bursbury ignored Lord Mortry and rushed along beside William. “The servants had water already heated for a bath for Lady Venerton. I’ve instructed them instead to move it to your room. It will be at the ready for you.”

William nodded his thanks.

Lady Bursbury pressed a hand to her chest. “Mercy me, this has been a night!”

Indeed, it had, but William didn’t waste time on those words. Not when his only concern was getting Julia upstairs and warmed in that bath.