Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(85)

When William returned, he looked harassed and exhausted, and there was a distinct slap mark on his right cheek.

“Is she gone?”

“Yes, after giving me a parting shot.” William rubbed his cheek reflectively. “My God, she must be a tigress in bed. It's a wonder you weren't eaten alive. You're a better man than I, brother—I prefer my females a little more accommodating than that.”

“Thank God I'm finally rid of her,” Damon said, dropping into a chair and stretching out his legs.

William smiled as he beheld the weary relief on his brother's face. He went to the sideboard and poured two brandies. “I assume you're going to tell Julia right away?”

“Yes—although it's not going to solve the problems between us.”

“What problems could you possibly have now?”

Frowning, Damon took the drink that William offered him. “The last time I saw Father, he told me that no woman would ever be straitlaced enough to suit me. He was right. I've made it clear to Julia that I want her to play yet another role…the properly dependent and devoted wife, existing only to serve my needs.”

“I don't see what's wrong with that.”

Damon shook his head and groaned quietly. “Julia isn't like any other woman I've ever met. Unfortunately the very things that make her unique are also the obstacles to a peaceful marriage between us.”

“You want her to leave the theater for good,” William said rather than asked.

“I can't see any other way. God knows I can't live with the idea of my wife flaunting herself on stage in front of thousands of people. I've tried to imagine it—” Damon stopped and rubbed his temples. “I can't,” he said gruffly. “But neither can I stop wanting her.”

“Perhaps in time that will fade,” William said with an effort at diplomacy. “There are other women in the world, some of them every bit as beautiful and accomplished as Julia—and they would leap at the chance to sacrifice whatever was necessary in order to marry the future Duke of Leeds.”

“I don't want anyone else.”

“You and your women…” William shook his head and grinned. “You always pick the complicated ones. Thank God I'm a man with simple tastes. I assure you, my barmaids and lightskirts never give me the problems you've been having.”

Damon went to his London residence, intending to leave for Bath in the morning after a good night's rest. However, he was awakened in the predawn hours by his butler, who knocked with quiet insistence at the bedroom door until he sat up in bed. “What is it?” he grumbled.

The door opened a crack. “My apologies, my lord, but one of the footmen from Warwickshire was dispatched to bring you a letter. The matter is of some urgency. I assumed you would want to know immediately.”

Damon shook his head to clear the haze from his brain. “Know what?”

Entering the room with an oil lamp in hand, the butler set it on the night table and handed a sealed letter to Damon.

Blinking in the yellow light, Damon broke the wax seal and scanned the letter quickly. It was from his father's doctor. “Damn,” he said softly, and to his surprise, the parchment trembled in his hand.

The butler averted his eyes, though he wore a look of quiet understanding. “Do you wish to notify your brother, Your Grace?”

After a week of rapturously received performances of My Lady Deception, the play's success was being touted all over England. Theaters from Bristol to York were clamoring to be included among the Capital players' tour destinations. Critics had begun to call the character of Christine one of Jessica Wentworth's signature roles, one that only she could play with such artless perfection.

Julia found it ironic that the success she had dreamed of should prove to be far less fulfilling than she had expected. She felt alive only in the glow of the stage lighting, while every moment off the boards seemed flat and anticlimactic. Now she understood exactly how Logan felt about the theater. Because she had sacrificed everything else of value in her life, the illusions of the stage were all she had left.

Logan had offered to give Julia a grand wedding, but the thought of it made her uneasy. She asked him instead to arrange a private ceremony, and to keep their plans secret. She wasn't yet ready to offer explanations or face the surprise of friends and family when they learned of her decision to marry Logan. Not being the sentimental sort, Logan had readily agreed. In the meanwhile Julia had consulted with a lawyer who had confirmed everything her father had said. Any day now, Damon would receive the letter requesting the return of her dowry.

After the next-to-last performance of the play in Bath had been concluded, Julia sat in her dressing room and removed the paint and sweat from her face. Dully she stared into the looking-glass, wondering how to take away the numbness she felt inside.

“Jessica!” Arlyss burst into the dressing room without warning, her face glowing with excitement. “I had to see you at once. You'll be the first to know.”

Julia turned to her with a wan smile. “The first to know what?”

Arlyss's smile turned shy, and she extended her hand. “Michael just gave this to me.”

Still seated, Julia leaned close and looked at Arlyss's fourth finger, where a small diamond glittered on a narrow gold band. “Oh, my,” she breathed, and glanced up at her friend's face. “Does this mean—”