My Fair Marchioness (Scandalous Affairs Book 3) by Christi Caldwell (best short books to read txt) 📗

Her voice, hauntingly beautiful, filled the air, soft and lyrical and mesmerizing.

Oh fare thee well, I must be gone

And leave you for a while

Wherever I go, I will return

If I go ten thousand miles, my dear

If I go ten thousand miles

Ten thousand miles it is so far

To leave me here alone

Well, I may lie, lament and cry

And you will not hear me mourn, my dear

You will not hear me mourn

As you sail away to distant lands

Along for you I’ll yearn

My heart you’ll hold in your strong hands

While I wait for your return.

Suddenly, abruptly, Adairia’s song came to a stop.

“Julia,” the young lady cried and then began to weep.

His heart froze and then fell. Harris squeezed his eyes shut as a piteous groan worked its way up from his chest.

She was gone.

Harris couldn’t open his eyes, unable to view her, still in death, as Clarisse had once been, a sight that would ravage him and haunt him forever. And yet, he also needed to see her. Needed to share every moment, even this final, darkest, most aching one.

Harris forced himself to open his eyes and then went stock-still, his gaze locking not on closed or lifeless eyes, but rather, exhausted ones, bloodshot but alive.

Then Julia’s hand came up to stroke the top of Adairia’s bent head. Her pale fingers trembled slightly as she, unselfish as she’d proven to be, as unselfish as he’d failed to see, conferred support and love to that sobbing young woman.

His heart resumed beating, a quick, galloping rhythm, each beat fueled by joy and relief so strong they threatened to take him down.

Storming to his feet, Harris flew across the room, shouting for the doctor.

Julia lived.

Chapter 22

With the aid of the cane given to her by the Countess of Cowpen, Julia followed after Adairia, the duchess, and the duchess’ dearest friends. Julia moved slowly along the graveled path, slightly out of breath. The exertion it had taken to get from the carriage to this part of the park had left her embarrassingly weak.

The ten days she’d spent abed had managed to sap her energy in ways worse than the bullet she’d taken to the side. She paused, sweat beading on her brow, and leaned over the head of the cane.

As one, the four ladies accompanying her stopped.

Quitting the older matrons’ side, Adairia rushed back and looped her arm through Julia’s spare one. They moved at a slower pace after them. Since Julia had come to, it was as though Adairia had gone out of her way to avoid Julia. Even with Adairia’s days filled with fittings and appointments as they were, Julia didn’t doubt for a moment the real reason for that distance.

“We have not spoken of Rand Graham,” she said as gently as she could, given the man she spoke of.

Adairia’s mouth went hard in ways it had never before. “I’ve told you there’s nothing to say. He was not behind your attack that day.”

“Just your kidnapping,” Julia pointed out.

“In fact, he saved you, Julia. Why, Mr. Connor Steele himself indicated that it was others, resentful of Rand’s position of power and seeking to displace him, who were responsible.”

Julia opened her mouth to speak, but Adairia interrupted. “There’s nothing else to say.”

Which, in short, meant there was nothing more Adairia intended to say about Rand Graham or her time with him. It was also the first time Adairia had not spoken freely to her, the first time she’d erected a barrier and kept it up. But then, neither had Julia shared any part of what she’d known and shared with Harris.

Julia stopped. “Go on ahead,” she said softly.

Worry instantly filled Adairia’s eyes.

“Perhaps this was too soon.” Adairia wrung her hands. “We can return.”

The duchess marched over. “But Julia has already come this far. To abandon our visit now would mean all of this was for naught.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Julia said to Adairia. And she didn’t. She wanted her friend to see London and the world the way Julia had in the previous weeks. With Harris. She felt her facial muscles spasm. Perhaps if Adairia did, she could forget the time she’d spent with Rand Graham.

As though you can forget the time you knew with Harris?

“I knew we should not have come,” Lady Cowpen whispered, her voice wreathed in worry.

The lady’s sister sent an elbow flying into the other woman’s side. “No, you didn’t. You were the one who insisted she’d be fine as long as she had a cane, because canes cure all problems.”

Lady Cowpen’s eyes lit. “You have to admit the girl does look debonair with the cane.”

The lady’s sister rolled her eyes. “Ladies aren’t debonair. They are… They are…”

“Why can’t they be debonair?” the other matron insisted indignantly.

As the eccentric pair bickered and Adairia watched on, giggling, the duchess moved closer to Julia. “Are you certain you’re all right to be here, my dear?”

“Absolutely so. I would not spoil Adairia’s outing,” she said, her gaze on the bright-eyed girl playing referee between the quarreling countesses.

Her Grace’s features immediately dissolved into a scowl. “I’m not worried about Adairia’s outing. She has her entire life to experience the joy of London and life. I’m worried about you.”

It had been so very long since anyone had ever worried about her. Had anyone ever? Had her own mother, even truly? The times Julia had been a small girl who’d fallen ill, or when London had nearly frozen with an unlikely winter chill, there’d not been words about Julia’s well-being, but rather, how they could not afford to lose the support that Julia’s efforts as a flower peddler provided.

Shifting her weight once more over the head of the cane, she carefully folded an