My Fair Marchioness (Scandalous Affairs Book 3) by Christi Caldwell (book recommendations for young adults txt) 📕

“There isn’t anything,” he said with a coldness that froze every hope.

Nay, it was futile. She’d known Harris just a short while, but she knew him to be a proud man. He would not so easily forgive once deceived.

They stared at each other, at an impasse. He locked in his hatred of her, and she, her abiding love for him.

In the end, both were spared from speaking next.

Stebbins appeared, and they both looked over, having failed to hear the kindly footman’s approach. He cleared his throat. “Her Grace has requested Lady Julia’s company in the library. She has a caller.”

Neither said anything for a long while, and Stebbins shifted back and forth on his feet.

“Thank you, Stebbins,” Julia finally said. “That will be all.”

He lingered there, offering her a supportive look before bowing deeply and taking his leave.

Would he be kind still if he knew the truth? Which was inevitable.

Julia looked to a stone-faced Harris. “I am so very sorry,” she repeated. “Sorrier than you can ever know. I was scared. I didn’t know where to go, or what to do, and so I came here.” She lifted her chin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my lord?”

“Oh, you know, I don’t think I will, Miss Julia Smith. Is that even your name?”

“It is.” She managed to keep her voice even. “My mother was a mere ‘Smith’. She was an opera singer and chose Mackenzie as the surname she used.” A performer who’d been a master of pretend and make-believe, Julia’s mother had made up a more interesting surname. “She felt it had a grander sound.” Stop rambling.

His eyes narrowed. With scorn? Pity? She wanted neither sentiment from this man… or anyone.

“I don’t trust you.”

“You never have,” she said sadly.

It was as though the fight went out of him, and his features slipped from that previously unyielding mask. “But that isn’t really true.” Such pain crept into his gaze, she wanted to hold him and ease the pain that she had wrought. “I came to trust you and confide in you, and…” He stopped talking, and giving his head a shake, he looked away. When he looked back, all that harsh frostiness had firmed up his features. “And despite my initial reservations, and against all my better judgment, I was proven correct.”

And with that, she tired of his berating. Yes, he had a right to his feelings, but what else would he have her say? What else would he have her do? She might have lied to him, but even if she’d been truthful with her identity and presence there, he’d never have liked her or trusted her because of where she’d come from. Julia tilted up her chin. “My, how very proud you must be to have ascertained the truth. Do you want a prize?”

His eyes went black, and for a moment, she thought she’d stepped too far with her jeering. She took a hasty, reflexive step away from him.

“Do you think I’m going to hit you?” he snapped.

It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d found herself with an errant cuff or slap from a lord to whom she’d stepped too close. “Of course not,” Julia said. She knew, however, Harris wasn’t the manner of man who’d put his hands upon a woman. Odd that the pain of his rejection proved far greater than any blow she’d been dealt. She hugged her arms around her middle, attempting to ease the agony of this loss, one that had always been inevitable. Needing to put some distance between herself and his palpable hatred, and to keep from crying in front of him, she let her arms drop. “If you’ll excuse me? The duchess is waiting.” She turned to leave.

“Julia?”

Hope brought her whipping around.

“Mr. Steele has requested to meet with you. I expect he is your caller waiting in Her Grace’s library.”

Her mouth dried up as fear seeped in. “I… see.” The whole of her life, she’d attempted to stay on the right side of the law. A person in St. Giles was presented with enough danger in those streets that earning the notice of a constable and facing Newgate, or worse, had been a risk she and her mum and Adairia had never undertaken. For the whole of her life, she’d lived as honorably as she’d been able, never committing a single crime. Only to find now that she’d ultimately landed herself in that great place of peril after all. “Are you going to turn me over to a constable?” She made herself ask the question she most feared an answer to. “Are criminal charges to be brought against me?” she continued, her voice shockingly steady.

He winged a tawny brow up. “That would depend. Have you done anything that would merit a place in prison?” He gave her a probing look. “That is, other than adopt a false identity and pass yourself off as someone you’re not?”

It didn’t escape her notice that he’d failed to provide Julia with any assurances as to her fate, that he’d not ruled out Newgate. And her heart somehow found a way to break apart all over again. For this was really what he thought about her. His opinion was so very low. It was how she knew that absolutely nothing she could say was anything he’d either understand or forgive. “I’ll speak with this investigator,” she said, and turning on her heel, she made her way out.

Harris joined her in a walk that felt never ending through the duchess’ sprawling residence. He was stiff and silent at her side, and she mourned the loss of what they’d shared. She missed his teasing and their banter. She missed everything good and wonderful they’d shared. Her fractured relationship with Harris was the absolute last thing that should consume her in this