He moved to his bed, his eyes drawn to the box hidden beneath it. His hands trembled as he reached for it, dragging it out from its hiding place. He needed to remember that he wasn’t a good husband for Judith or anyone else. Even if Amelia had lied about the circumstances leading to her current marriage.
He looked at the trinkets but felt nothing but hollowness inside his chest. So what if he had been a rake? Judith hadn’t cared… Or maybe she had? She hadn’t spoken to him since he kissed her, after all. So that had to mean she wasn’t interested, right?
But maybe if he hadn’t struggled so much with his trepidations, he might have confessed his love to her another way, a more delicate way that wouldn’t have pushed her away.
It didn’t matter anymore anyway, he told himself. She was with Graham now. With his good friend. It was over.
He dropped to box onto the ground and glared into it, seeing his past—and his only possible future.
Gripped by rage, he kicked the box, sending assorted ribbons and patch boxes across the floor. He heard the telltale sound of porcelain breaking, but he didn’t care.
He’d ruined any chance of ever confessing his true feelings for her. He’d fulfilled his duty to her brother and found her a match—that was all he had to do. It was over now.
Judith didn’t need him anymore, and the only thing left for him to do was to embrace the life he’d lived before her. The only life he’d known. One that was free of obligations—and one that now seemed so empty that it made his stomach twist with regret and dread of the future.
CHAPTER 27
Judith and Graham exited the box at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, where they had just enjoyed a performance of Richard Brinsley Sheridan’sThe School for Scandal. The theater was a bustling hive of excitement, the air filled with the buzz of conversations as patrons discussed the play. The scent of perfume and cigars mingled with the faint aroma of greasepaint from the stage.
The streets outside the theater were lit by flickering gas lamps, casting a warm, golden glow on the cobblestone streets. Carriages lined up to collect the theatergoers, and the sounds of hoofbeats and murmured voices filled the night air.
As they walked toward Graham’s carriage, he kept close to her side. Judith could smell his cologne, a subtle blend of sandalwood and citrus, pleasant and refined. It was a scent that matched his personality perfectly—for he was always pleasant.
She had enjoyed the performance and his company, but as they strolled along, she couldn’t help but reflect on the pastfour weeks since they had begun courting. Everything had been very… pleasant. And that was the word that seemed to define her feelings for Graham. Pleasant.
Nothing more, nothing less. Her stomach did not flutter when she thought of him, she didn’t feverishly anticipate their reunions once they had parted, nor did she sit and imagine her future with him. Their courtship simply was what it was. A part of her life. No more or less exciting than her daily dressing routine or dinner.
“Did you enjoy the play?” Graham asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
“Yes, very much,” Judith replied with a smile. “The wit and humor were delightful, and the actors did a splendid job.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Sheridan’s plays always have a way of bringing out the best in both performers and audiences,” Graham commented. “I’ve always admired his work.”
Judith nodded in agreement, though her thoughts were elsewhere. As much as she tried to focus on the enjoyable evening, her mind kept wandering back to Aaron and the confusing emotions he stirred within her.
She had been determined to move on, to give her attention to Graham, but despite his many admirable qualities, she felt no spark, no excitement. Not the way she’d felt with Aaron before his unkind words had extinguished that spark. Well, mostly.There were still nights when she lay in her bed and looked out the window, wondering what he was doing.
She hadn’t seen him aside from by happenstance at an outing, but she’d not spoken to him if she could avoid it. A forced “good day,” or civil whiskers, that had been all. She’d noted the way he’d looked at her, sad and sullen. But why that was, she didn’t know.
She expected he’d soon leave again for faraway lands. Good. She did not want to continue running into him by chance. It made it much harder to forget the feelings she’d harbored for him.
“There is our carriage,” Graham said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He was about to open the door for her when he snapped his fingers. “Lady Judith, I’ve forgotten my gloves in the box. I would not normally bother retrieving them, but I bought them in Italy, and they are expensive.”
“Please, go get them. I can wait here. Or I can join you if you want,” she offered.
He shook his head. “I’ll just be a moment. Please wait here,” he said, before hurrying back to the theater entrance.
Judith watched him go, then turned to look around. The night was cool but not uncomfortable, and the open air was a welcome change from the stuffy confines of the carriage. She stepped onto the pavement to stretch her legs and take in the sights of Drury Lane.
The street was alive with people, the theater patrons mingling with street vendors and the occasional late-night reveler. She could hear the distant strains of music from a nearby tavern, adding to the lively atmosphere.
As she stood there, enjoying the scene, her gaze was drawn to a couple walking toward her. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized they were no couple at all but instead Lady Lundgren and her brother, Thomas Cornell. They were approaching her, and she felt a sudden urge to flee but found herself rooted to the spot.
Lady Lundgren’s eyes widened with recognition as they drew nearer. “I know you,” she muttered, stopping before her. “You were with Aaron at Almack’s,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Thomas Cornell, whose stern expression mirrored his sister’s disdain, added, “Lady Judith, isn’t it? Indeed, it is you.”
Judith’s heart pounded in her chest. She remembered all too well how Thomas had forced himself on her, and now here he was again, with his haughty sister.
