The Fictitious Marquis by Adams Alina

Author:Adams, Alina [Adams, Alina]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Published: 2015-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

11

When Julia was younger and angry, she threw things.

Now that she were older and angry, she . . . still threw things.

The only difference was, as a child, Julia had smashed breakable objects against the floor for the sheer audible pleasure of hearing them break into a million pieces. At twenty, she understood that such behavior would be considered inappropriate. And so Julia, when infuriated, now consoled herself with the wholly unsatisfactory act of flinging, one by one, an entire shelf of books at her pillow. But they only made a muffled thump upon impact and then just lay there, pages flapping, leaving Julia to seethe in infuriating silence.

The only problem was, she hadn't the faintest idea whom she was angry at.

Jamie for enticing her into that scandalous, silent waltz, or Salome for stopping it?

Salome for accusing him of only toying with her affections, or Jamie for refusing to vehemently deny it?

Befuddled, Julia sank down on the bed, sliding a pillow onto her lap, and mindlessly tugging at both corners until the white cloth started to tear at the seams.

Or was she angry at herself, for the excited trembling that shot through her in response to Salome's question about Jamie's true intentions, and for the pictures that leapt into her mind, making it impossible for Julia to so much as meet Jamie's gaze.

Strange how Julia and Gavin had done little more than hold hands and exchange secret glances across the room, and she had believed herself in love with him. But years of knowing the young lord hadn't managed to ignite in Julia an ounce of the passionate sensations that had so overwhelmed her after a brief moment in Jamie's arms.

It was all so puzzling. Julia noted the hole she had started in her pillowcase, and hooked one finger over the edge, tearing it further and enjoying the sound that it made.

Julia didn't love Jamie. She felt certain of that. And yet, obviously, a great many women before her had.

Admittedly, he was handsome. Especially when scrubbed and combed and dressed in some of the best men's clothes money could buy. And he was smart. Maybe not terribly learned, and certainly grossly undereducated, but undeniably in possession of a keen mind. In only a few short weeks he'd committed to memory everything Julia had taught him, sometimes surprising even her with his uncanny ability to recite, word for word, an order she'd given him as far back as half a month ago. And he was terribly witty. He made Julia laugh. And fume. Sometimes at the same time. He was charming. He could be sweet. He could even, she knew, be gentle.

The sooner they got married the better.

Once Julia collected her money, traveled to France, appraised Miriam and Alexia's situation and performed whatever task necessary to set it all right again, then Jamie would be free to go on his way and she would never have to set eyes on the rake again.

Yes, Julia decided, tomorrow morning they would set a wedding date, and move towards bringing this farce of a betrothal to an end once and for all.

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