Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (34 page)

Lowering the note, Julian raised his gaze to his wife, who stood not three feet away, watching him with an anxious expression, twisting her hands in front of her.

"You knew." It came out such a softly spoken accusation, even though inside it felt like the loudest of roars.

She didn't try to deny it. "I knew she loved him, yes," she replied, equally as quiet. "I urged her to tell you the truth."

Julian's lungs felt like a bellows, expanding his ribs with air so that his chest felt as though it might explode with the force of his emotion.

"You are my wife." He might be able to contain his anger, but he couldn't contain the hurt. "
You
should have told me."

Her face was terribly pale now. Her hands, no longer twisting, were tightly knotted at her waist. "I gave my word to Letitia that I would not."

His chest was so tight now his ribs felt as though they were breaking. Or perhaps it was just his heart.

"You made a vow to me in front of God," he choked out. Had that meant nothing? She lied to him, even after everything they'd said and been through together. What else had she lied about? Had she lied about wanting him?

She had the grace to look shamed. "I made my promise to Letitia before we married."

She had known all along. Sophia had come to London with his sister's secret already in her possession. She had promised to trust him, knowing full well that she wouldn't.

It hurt. It hurt more than anything he could remember. The death of Miranda, even the death of his parents, had left him feeling hollow and empty inside. What he wouldn't give to have that feeling again. Anything would be preferable to the pain in his chest, the hot sting of betrayal deep in his gut.

He had been played for a fool and he had walked into it with a smile on his stupid face. He had only wanted what was best for Letitia and now he had lost her because of Sophia's duplicity.

No. He had to be fair. If he had indeed lost Letitia, it would be because of his own folly. He had stupidly underestimated his sister, and his wife. He should have seen the signs. If he hadn't been so caught up in trying to provide a good future for Letitia, he might have seen that she already had a future in mind.

"Julian," Sophia's voice drew him out of his thoughts. She looked at him with an entreating expression, one pale, slender hand reaching out to him. Julian stared at it. He knew what it was, but he wasn't quite certain what she expected him to do with it. He certainly didn't want to touch it. If he touched it, he would be touching her, and if he touched her he'd forgive her just so some of this pain would stop.

"I am sorry."

He laughed. He sounded like he was choking. "It is a little late for that, do you not think?"

"If it was not too late to forgive each other for seven years of bitterness, it is not too late to forgive me for a lapse in judgment."

"A lapse in judgment?" Incredulity colored his tone and brought his brows snapping together. "I have lost my sister because of your 'lapse in judgment.'"

The pleading left her features and he was glad for it. It was too difficult to stay angry at her when she looked so sorry.

"No. You lost your sister because of you."

If words were blades she would have exposed bone.

"And," she continued, her tone less harsh than it had been, "because of her. There were problems between the two of you long before I reentered your life."

She was right, of course, but that didn't take away any of the pain. This wasn't really about him and Letitia, and Julian knew it. They both knew it.

He looked at her— really looked at her. What he saw was more than just the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was strong and opinionated and she had endured years with a man who hadn't seen her true worth. Julian himself hadn't seen her true worth or he wouldn't have walked away all those years ago. He had betrayed her far worse than she could have ever betrayed him. Perhaps keeping the truth about Letitia from him had been a little bit of revenge on her part.

And why not? He had ruined her and turned his back on her. The few times he saw her in public after that he had given her the cut direct and smiled while others blatantly whispered as she walked by, even though he honestly hadn't felt much like smiling.

And she had acted like she didn't care. No matter how long he stared at her, she never once looked back. She treated him like something meaningless, when what he had wanted was some sign that she had cared.

Then she sent him that damn book and he believed she thought him a fool. Now that he had read the book, he knew how deeply he had cut her. How could he have been so foolish as to think he could atone for it so easily? Did he truly believe marrying her and offering her the heart he hadn't bothered to give her seven years ago would make up for everything else?

Yes. Yes, he had, because he
wanted
it to make up for everything else.

If she only knew how complete her revenge now was. Perhaps if he gave her that she would just leave him alone.

He locked gazes with her, and for a moment he thought he saw regret in the ebony depths of her eyes.

"I love you," he whispered, confessing what he only now knew was true. Only it was far too late. He knew that as well.

Sophia stared at Julian, her jaw slackening as her dazed mind made sense of his words.

He loved her? It was too shocking to dare believe, not when she thought she had ruined any chance of ever hearing him say those words. Before she could tell him she loved him as well, he spoke again.

"Or rather, I loved who I wanted you to be. That was a mistake and I am sorry for it."

It felt as though someone had reached into her chest and yanked out her heart. There was nothing he could have done to hurt her any deeper.

"I never lied to you about anything, Julian," she informed him. "I might have kept Letitia's involvement with Mr. Wesley from you, but I never lied about anything between us. Never."

He looked as though he wanted to believe her, and that hurt even more than his telling her he loved her. "Your revenge is complete, Sophia. You do not have to pretend anymore."

Revenge? Pretend? He thought she had kept Letitia's secret to revenge herself upon him?

"There was no revenge, Julian. I made a promise to your sister, that is all. I tried to make you see what was going on, but you wouldn't listen. You didn't see."

"No," he murmured, his honey brown gaze boring into hers. "I did not see because it never occurred to me to look— not in you."

Oh, but he knew just what to say to cut her. He knew just how to look to make her feel like the worst sort of woman, and she despised him for it, because, unlike Edmund and his manipulations Julian only wanted her to see how badly she had hurt him.

"I love you," she blurted. It was stupid and inane, and the only thing she could think of to say.

Julian's face darkened. "No, you do not," he countered. "You have to trust someone to love them. You do not trust me."

His accusation sparked a fire inside Sophia. "You believe I was trying to avenge myself on you. Clearly you do not trust me either, Julian. Perhaps you did not love me as you thought."

His mouth— that beautiful mouth— twisted bitterly. "Oh, I loved you. Your betrayal would not hurt quite so much if I had not loved you."

Betrayal!
She clung to the word. It kept the cruelty of his words from slicing too deep.

"I did not betray you."

"You deliberately kept the truth from me." She could hear the restraint in his voice. She wanted to push him, make him lose that volatile temper of his. She needed to know she could drive him to the extremes of his emotions, because if she could make him mad enough to yell, then perhaps there was still hope for them.

"Yes," she replied calmly. He was shocked by her admission, she could see it in his eyes. "I kept the truth from you, because you would not have accepted it even if I told you. How many times did I tell you that I was worried Letitia might do something foolish? Every time I brought it up, you dismissed it because you arrogantly assumed you knew better than I, or even Letitia did."

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he said nothing.

Sophia kept going, her own anger building. "You are so used to everyone doing what you want them to do that it never even occurred to you that Letitia might want some control over her own life. You were doing to her what you told me you once felt everyone had done to you. Except that she didn't run away from a marriage, Julian. She is running into one. You cannot keep her a little girl anymore. She is a grown woman and she's chosen the only way she knows to prove that to you."

Did he even hear her, let alone understand? His expression revealed nothing. Only the color in his cheeks was any indication that she might have struck a nerve.

"Yes," he said stiffly. "Thank you for clarifying things for me. Now if you will excuse me, I need to find my sister."

Sophia's shoulders sagged. He had heard what she said, and like everything else he dismissed it because it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

She tried to stop him as he brushed by her. "We have to talk."

He didn't even look at her. "I am afraid that right now I have more important things to do than listen to you tell me how wrong I am— how wrong I have always been, apparently. I need to stop a huge mistake from being made."

"It is not your mistake to stop!" she cried at his back. "It may not be a mistake at all!"

No, Letitia's marriage might not be a mistake, but Sophia knew that letting him walk out that door without settling things between them would be.

"Julian." How she hated the pleading in her voice. "Do not leave me like this."

At the door, Julian turned finally to face her. He looked at her as though she were a casual acquaintance, not the woman whose heart he held in his hand, and certainly not as though he cared.

"My darling Fe, I do not believe you are mine to leave."

Julian's words echoed in Sophia's head long after he left her there alone in his study. They taunted her while she stood there, silently staring at the door, hoping he would return so they could talk. They whispered to her twenty minutes later, when, convinced that he wasn't coming back, she decided she had to do something. And they haunted her now, a full hour later as she sat in Lady Wickford's parlor, washing down the cake stuck in her throat with a cup of tea that smelled divine but tasted like dishwater on her tongue.

"So the gel's finally gone and done it, has she?" Lady Wickford clucked her tongue with a resigned shake of her graying head. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Every Rexley I've ever known had more will than good sense."

Sophia forced a smile. "I have no doubt that you are right. I thought perhaps Letitia might have given you some hint as to where they might have gone."

"Only one place they could have gone, as far as I can see," the older woman remarked, stirring a generous amount of sugar into her cup. "Letitia's always been captivated by Gretna Green. Chit seemed to think it romantic to be married by a blacksmith next to a dirty forge."

"Then you believe Mr. Wesley does indeed intend to marry her?" Sophia took another cake even though her stomach rolled at the thought of eating it. Maybe if she ate enough cakes she could fill the emptiness inside her.

Lady W seemed surprised by her question. "Oh, I see. Worried that he might prove to be a cad, eh? Well, I can't say as that I blame you, given your own history, but I do not think you need worry about Mr. Wesley. I have known his family for years. He's never been anything but a good lad."

Sophia regarded the sturdy woman thoughtfully. Was it her own experience with ruination that made her worry about Letitia, or was it that no one else wanted to think of the consequences if Mr. Wesley turned out to be less than they all hoped?

"Still," Lady W added, almost as an afterthought. "It will cause a scandal once word gets out that she's run off with him. I hope they marry and return quickly before the stories have much of a chance to tarnish her reputation."

"Yes," Sophia agreed softly. She knew firsthand what it was like to be the object of jeers and whispers. She would hate for that to happen to Letitia, even if the young woman did invite them upon herself by eloping as she had.

"I wager Wolfram was none too pleased by the news?"

Taking a bit of cake, Sophia forced herself to chew and swallow before replying. It was a difficult task, considering the very sound of his name sent her heart into her throat.

"That is putting it mildly."

The old woman's gaze was as sharp and shrewd as a hawk's. "And how did he react when he learned your part in it?"

Tea sloshed over the side of Sophia's cup. How had Lady Wickford known she had been involved? She had never spoken of Letitia's secret before now.

The old gal laughed at Sophia's shocked expression. "My dear girl, no one could have such a sorry, guilty countenance as yours without reason for it."

For a brief second, Sophia entertained the notion of throwing herself into Lady W's arms and confessing everything. She wanted to feel someone's arms around her, have someone pat her on the head and tell her everything was going to be all right, but she had never had anyone do that for her before, and she wasn't about to start asking for it now.

"He was understandably upset," she replied finally, carefully.

Lady Wickford smiled. It was far more sympathetic and knowing than Sophia was comfortable with. "So why are you here with me, stuffing yourself full of enough cake to choke an elephant, when you should be at home trying to make your husband understand why you acted as you did?"

Setting her cup and saucer on the tray on the table before her, Sophia hesitated a moment before answering. She was unused to discussing her problems and wasn't so certain she would know where to stop if she started now.

"He did not want to understand," she said simply. "He left."

Again she felt the pierce of Lady W's pale gaze. "So for the second time in your relationship, Julian Rexley walked out on you and you let him do it."