Page 25

The morning of Lord Ebersole's birthday gala Laurel woke with a sense of excitement mixed with dread. Ever since the day when Julian fled their bed after kissing and caressing her, he had been even more distant than ever. An impressive, if disheartening, feat.

Julian had been working late again at the mine and coming to bed well after she was asleep. One night she purposely did not create the pillow barrier between them, but when she woke the next morning, Julian was gone and the pillows were in place.

He might as well have written, "Stay Away!" on them.

She ought to be thrilled at the prospect of seeing Cassie in a few hours. She and the Winchesters would be staying over. With the expectation that Laurel would return to London with them.

Instead, she gazed around the bedchamber with a heart full of sadness.

Whether she would actually go to London with Cassie and the Winchesters or not, she was unsure, though that was the logical next step on her way to Paris.

She would have fulfilled her obligation and hopefully enough time had passed for her reputation to be restored.

But now that she had spent some time, however short, as part of Julian's household, she felt reluctant to leave.

She wanted a family. She had a husband. It was not as though she could find another man to marry.

Julian was the only man she could imagine caring for in that way. She had somehow fallen in love with him, despite her vow that it was impossible.

The renovations of the bedchambers had been completed, and she had peeked inside the refreshed area which would be hers as soon as the party guests were on their way home.

Spacious and airy, it even had an area large enough for a table for her designs.

It had been Lord Ebersole's doing, she learned.

She felt horrible thinking she would never use the beautiful space.

If she had created her own ideal oasis, it would have resembled the room which, in theory, would be hers by the following night.

Not only would she miss the older man who insisted she call him grandfather, but she hated to imagine what his opinion would be of her once she left the manor and never returned.

She and Julian had made a deal while only thinking of themselves and not those around them.

Soon she would pay the price for her selfishness. The price would be heartbreak. At least for her.

It was tempting to stay. She did not think Julian would force her out, but the thought of his continued rejection was too painful and demeaning to contemplate. Better to cut the tie and get on with things, however dreary the prospect now seemed.

Tonight would be the last they would share a bed. She had no doubt Julian would use the excuse of the gala to stay up nearly all night in order to avoid joining her in the big bed.

The realization was like a dagger to her heart.

She had played a game and failed miserably.

There was a tap on the door and Julian entered.

When had he started announcing his arrival? Was this not his bedchamber?

Laurel kept those questions to herself as she looked up at him.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," she replied with equal formality. "I thought you would be at the mine by now."

"The mine is closed today. Everyone was given a paid holiday in honor of Grandfather's birthday."

Laurel tilted her head. "Truly? That is most generous of you."

A brief smile turned up the corners of his mouth. "Thank you. It is the right thing to do. Besides, it has the added bonus of annoying Leonard to no end. I thought he would have a litter of kittens when I told him what I intended to do."

Laurel laughed. "A litter of kittens would be better behaved than those offspring of his. I was vastly relieved when I learned they would not be attending the party, though I understand Lord and Lady Tinnitus will be spending the night."

"Yes," Julian agreed. "It was a small miracle that they are not bringing the children. It is my hope the large number of overnight guests will be sufficient to put them on their best behavior. Though what their best behavior might be, I cannot imagine."

"They really are a dreadful pair," Laurel replied. "I can understand why you do not wish to entrust the mine to Leonard. I would not even want them to have the litter of kittens we were just talking about."

Laurel relaxed a bit. This was the old banter she and Julian had enjoyed together.

The camaraderie which gave her such pleasure.

Until she realized it would not be enough.

Certainly it was preferable to the distance Julian had put between them of late, but with Julian, she craved more.

More than collegiality. More than banter.

"I wanted to speak to you, before things get even more hectic here. I-I just want to thank you for all you have done and, more importantly, for agreeing to marry me. I feel confident that all will go as planned tonight and I have you to thank for that."

She ought to be pleased with his praise. She wasn’t.

"Of course," she managed to say, though her throat was bone dry. "I have enjoyed my time here."

"Our agreement," Julian looked down at his clasped hands and then back up at her, "was for us to remain together until Grandfather's party.

Then you would be free to go to Paris or London.

Or frankly, wherever you choose, I suppose.

Though I would hope you would at least apprise me of your plans.

I would like to know you are well." His voice trailed off and he looked away again.

Was that regret? Sadness? A flicker of hope bloomed in Laurel.

"I-I could stay a bit longer," she offered. "My bedchamber," she nodded toward the room on the other side of the wall, "is complete and once the guests leave, I can move in there."

Julian made a strangled noise in his throat.

"No," he finally said. "I do not think that would be a good idea.

You have your plans. You have done your part, even if for some unforeseen reason Grandfather decides to give control of the mine to Leonard, it will not be a reflection of whether you have kept your word.

In fact, you have been exemplary. I cannot thank you enough. "

Laurel blinked against the tears forming in her eyes. This was no time to cry, though she felt as though she was saying good-bye to her dearest friend.

"You are most welcome," she replied around the lump in her throat. "I have enjoyed my time here. I will miss... everyone."

Julian brushed his hands together as though banishing invisible dirt. "Yes, of course, I am sure they will miss you as well. But we must discuss our plan."

"I did not know it needed discussion," she said. "I am rather confused."

"I thought for the sake of authenticity, we ought to have a row. In order to explain your departure."

Laurel gaped at him. "At your grandfather's birthday party? I would never cause a scene like that. What sort of person do you think I am?"

"No, no, of course not," Julian said. "I simply thought that sometime tomorrow, within view of several of the guests as well as my grandfather, we could get into a tiff and then you could say you needed to go to London."

"So, your great plan is for me to look like an unreasonable shrew?"

Well, that had not gone the way Julian had expected, he thought as he left his bedchamber.

Upon reflection he could see his idea was moronic.

He blamed it on the tattered state of his nerves.

He'd been unable to think of anything other than the fact Laurel would be leaving soon and as much as he wanted to stop her, he knew he could not force her to remain with him.

With his monstrous face and singular focus on his work, what sort of husband could he be, particularly when she deserved so much better?

Now, she not only had proof he was a cold, distant monster, but he was also a fool to have suggested such a farce. Thank goodness Laurel had the good sense to tell him no.

Why was he even bringing up her departure in the first place? He did not want her to leave, yet he was doing everything in his power to make sure she did. He was his own worst enemy.

Ever since the morning when he had come so very close to claiming her, burying himself deep inside her and making her his, he had been miserable.

More than anything, he wanted her to stay. In the heat of the moment, she had said she had been wanting him for so long.

But did she really mean it? Or was that simply her emotions, her untapped passion?

When he entered the first floor of Hazelden House his thoughts were quickly diverted by the frenzied activity.

Servants dashed from room to room carrying bouquets of flowers, bottles of wine, torches for outdoor lighting.

In the grand ballroom musicians were arranging their instruments and music stands while rugs were rolled up and put away and other items of furniture moved to make room for the expected crowd.

Thankfully the weather was clear and dry.

Lord Ebersole beamed with excitement as he directed staff members in their tasks.

Julian chided himself for his morose feelings. This was a special day. His grandfather turned seventy, a feat not easily achieved and Lord Ebersole had done so with vim and aplomb. Would that he might be as beloved when he reached the same age.

But of course, he would not be. He would be alone. By then his grandfather would have gone on to meet his maker. Penny would have her own family with a husband, children and even grandchildren.

Where would Laurel be, forty years from now?

No, he could not even consider it. He closed his eye and shook his head to banish the thought.

Looking out into the future without Laurel filled him with a sense of emptiness and dread.

With his peripheral vision, he caught his own reflection in a mirror. All he saw was a patch over his useless eye, angry scarred flesh and a scowling countenance. Who would want that?

He turned away.

If he could not stand himself, how could he expect anyone else to want him?

As if his mood could not go any lower, Leonard and Drucilla entered. Amazingly, they both had the same expression on their faces, as though they'd stepped in horse dung.

Julian had the same reaction to seeing them.

Grandfather came rushing forward, arms outstretched. "Drucy!" he said, grasping his granddaughter-in-law by her arms and drawing her reluctant form into his embrace.

"Happy birthday, Grandfather," she said, kissing the air near his cheek.

Lord Ebersole gave Leonard a similar greeting. Julian could not fault the man, for he strove to treat all of his grandchildren equally. Julian's grandfather had a mystifying capacity for love and joy.

Lord and Lady Tinnitus ignored Julian and he returned the favor.

If his grandfather noticed this chilly reception, he did not give any indication. Thankfully, he escorted the two least-wanted guests further into the house.

Julian hoped the rest of the party went better than this first taste of the festivities.