Page 78 of Taken By the Broken Duke
“What?” Horatio cried, anger and confusion warring in his voice, “this is insanity. You are trying to immolate yourself for no reason. I thought we had finally reached the point where we could be happy together. And live a long life, thanks to Doctor Carmichael—"
“I would do anything to keep you from her!” Juliet cried, her willpower breaking, “it is destroying me to send you to her. But if I do not, then I will always wonder about what might have been. Whether you were meant to be with her. Whether you regretted the chance not taken and would come to resent me for it in the years to come.”
Horatio strode to her, catching her in his arms. Juliet refused to embrace him. When his lips found hers, she tried to turn her head aside,at first.
Then she succumbed.
His kiss was fiery and passionate, as though trying to change her mind by sheer physical force. Her arms unfolded and she stroked his face, moaning with the desire he had awakened with her. Then her senses returned. With all the strength she could muster, she pushed at him. Horatio had not expected it and staggered backward. There was a look of shock on his face.
“Go!” she cried. “If only to bring peace to my heart and your own.”
EPILOGUE
Juliet threw herself down on the bed after Horatio had finally left.
The tears that she had held back while he was there, finally broke through. She sobbed for the life she had given up. Grieved for the life she might have had. There was no helping it. She could not live a lie.
When she had agreed to a marriage of convenience, it had been on the understanding that all concerned knew the nature of the union. Whether the groom was Nigel or Horatio. There was no deception.
But by marrying Horatio before he had been given a chance to reconcile with Jane, his childhood love, would be to live a lie. To live a life wondering if he wastrulyhappy or just pretending. Just making do with her, while regretting the loss of his life's true love.
She lost all awareness of time as she lay there, pain eating at her. She wished that Doctor Carmichael had never given her his magical medicine, had never saved her life. Then she could have slipped away quietly. Horatio would have found Jane and she would have helped him to overcome his grief.
It was all she had ever known since living with her Aunt and Uncle. That she was a burden to all those she surrounded herself with. Yet, despite their absence from her life, she could not break free from that notion.
She sobbed until the effort was too much. Sleep swept over her with her last thoughts being that she should leave the inn before Horatio returned in order to spare him the pain of telling her the truth.
A knocking at the door awoke her. She looked up blearily. From the light coming through the window, she could not tell how long she had been asleep. It was still bright outside so it could not have been long. The knocking came again, insistent. Horatio would not knock, she reasoned. Perhaps it was Jane, coming to the inn to tell Juliet that Horatio would not be leaving Carlisle with her. She got up, smoothing her skirt and dabbing at her eyes and cheeks with a linen cloth dipped in the basin of cold water on the washstand. She inspected her appearance in the mirror.
“Just a moment!” she called, determined to face her fate looking presentable.
When she opened the door, it was not who she had expected. A priest stood at the door. He had fair hair and bright blue eyes. There was something familiar about his face, though Juliet could not place it. She was not well acquainted with priests except the vicar at Little Wetherby village where the Godwins attended church every Sunday.
“Miss Semphill?” he asked.
“Yes,” Juliet replied.
“May I come in, Miss Semphill? It is a matter of urgency.”
Juliet supposed that the taboo concerning an unmarried man being alone with an unmarried woman did not apply if the man was a priest. She stood aside to allow him to enter. Graeme put his head out of his room and she gave him a smile.
“Nothing to worry about Graeme,” she said.
“His Grace told me to keep an eye out, Miss,” the driver said.
“Go get yourself a mug of ale,” Juliet told him.
He grinned sheepishly and held up a mug.
“I'll just sup this up here if it’s all the same to you.”
Juliet turned to her visitor, stepping into the room but leaving the door open so that her guardian did not need to worry.
“What can I do for you, Reverend?” Juliet asked.
“It is whatIcan do foryou, Miss Semphill,” he began. “My name is perhaps known to you and unlikely to be held in high esteem. I am Matthew Ainsworth...”
Juliet's face must have told the story because he raised his hands placatingly.
