The Rebel Bride by Catherine Coulter

“Come, Julien, sit down. You make me quite nervous standing there like a great silent bear.”

“Good Lord, Sarah. A bear?” He grinned at the unlikely simile. One of the lady’s greatest charms lay in her ability to make peculiar, yet delightful, comparisons.

“That isn’t at all important. Come, my dear, what’s on your mind? Surely you’re not here for an afternoon tryst?”

Julien didn’t answer immediately. He was rather taken off guard when she filled the silence in a rather flat voice, saying, “My God, so that’s it. You’ve met another lady.”

How the devil could she possibly tell? Did women have special powers that enabled them to see through a man instantly? It was unnerving. “You’re astute, Sarah. Indeed I’ve come to tell you, and hope that you will wish me happy.”

Her blue eyes widened and she stared at him openmouthed. “You . . . you plan to marry? You? This isn’t just another flirtation?”

“Surely it isn’t as great a surprise or shock as all that.” He saw what he thought was hurt in her eyes before she turned her head away. He didn’t wish to admit it, but he knew that this abrupt ending of their liaison was not only a blow to her pride but also to her heart. At least he believed so. But who knew with women?

“Sarah, I’m indeed sorry, but that’s the way of it.” He spoke gently but was aware of a great impatience to be gone. Although Sarah tended to become romantically involved with her lovers, she had known as well as he that their affair would end in time. He was only sorry, knowing Sarah as he did, that it was not she who broke off their relationship.

“What is this remarkable girl’s name?”

“You don’t know her. She has lived all her life in the country. In fact, her father’s estate lies near to St. Clair. She will be coming to London to stay with Lady Bellingham. Ah, yes, her name is Katharine.”

She heard a new note in his voice, deepening it, making it somehow tender. She turned back to him. Wonder and a goodly dose of incredulity were written on her face. “My God, Julien, you are in love with a girl from the country? An innocent? Good heavens, no one will believe it. Not you, my lord, who fancy your pleasures from ladies who know what’s what and what they’re about.”

He frowned at that, disliking to see himself in such a light, but said, “Yes, I suppose I am in love with a girl from the country who is very innocent. But she isn’t stupid or ignorant or boring.”

“And you have come to end our affair,” she stated flatly.

“Yes.”

She rose abruptly and pressed her fingertips against her temples. “It won’t last, you know. You’ll tire of her as you do all your women. She might be a perfect saint, but it will happen. And when you’re bored? You’ll have a wife, and a wife isn’t tossed aside as is a lover or a mistress. Well, you’ll do as you please no matter what I say. It seems, my lord, that we have little else to say to one another.”

Julien also stood up. In a swift motion he leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead. He gazed deep into her china-blue eyes and said quietly, “I hope you will be kind to Katharine. She knows no one in London.”

That wasn’t bloody likely, she thought, but forced a very charming smile. “Of course I shall be kind to her, Julien. I wish you the best, you know that. And your Katharine. You had best go now before I become the fool.”

It wasn’t lost on Julien that she glanced covertly at the clock as she spoke.

Julien sat up with a start and saw Bladen patiently holding open the door of his carriage for him to alight.

“Thought you’d fallen asleep, my lord,” Bladen said.

“Very nearly,” Julien said, as he stepped down on the flagstone in front of the Bellingham mansion. He called to Wilbury, “Walk the horses, Davie, I can’t be certain how long I will be.”