The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(60)

Yes, Julian wanted to go to find them, but if he were being truly honest with himself—and the brandy made him honest, damn it—he’d admit that he didn’t want to stay in London because he’d be tempted to go see Cassie. The farther he got from her, the safer he would be.

When she’d apologized to him on the terrace, he’d been tempted, so damn tempted, to demand that she tell him who the hell she was in love with. She’d been remorseful the last time he saw her, with tears in her eyes. But her excuses made no sense. Part of the reason he’d left was because he couldn’t stand to look at her, her ethereal beauty, her perfection, and know that he could never have her, not the way he wanted her.

Why had she allowed him to kiss her? Was she so evil that she thought it was a funny game? “I’m your friend Cassandra,” she’d said. Some friend, a liar. The Cassandra he knew wasn’t a liar.

And for one moment, one awful, perfect, wonderful, hideous moment when he’d been standing in that foyer with all those people listening to the words coming out of their mouths, he’d realized that the woman he’d lusted after so unmercifully and the woman he’d cared about for so long were in fact the same human being. It had been an exquisite torture, one that ripped his heart from his chest as he’d realized that he could never have her. Patience might have wanted him, but according to Hunt, Cass wanted someone else. And even if she didn’t, it didn’t matter because she was a liar, an actress, someone who couldn’t be trusted.

Damn it. Who was the man she was in love with? Julian shouldn’t care, but he did. He took another drink. By God, he’d rip the blighter limb from bloody limb when he found out his identity. No, he wouldn’t. But he wanted to. God, he wanted to. Was it Upton? Upton had played along, hadn’t he? Had they been laughing at Julian behind his back during the house party? Had they all been? Upton and Jane Lowndes and Lucy? Even Owen had somehow not deemed it fit to mention to him that his sister was trotting around a house party claiming to be someone she was not. What the hell was the matter with the lot of them?

Julian tossed the contents of his glass down his throat and made his way unerringly back to the sideboard to get another.

*

When the Duchess of Claringdon was ushered into his brother’s study hours later, Julian wasn’t entirely certain what day it was anymore. The brandy had accomplished its purpose.

“Thank you for seeing me, Captain Swift,” the duchess said.

Julian bowed to her and nearly toppled over. “My pleasure, Your Grace, for it is not every day a true duchess visits me.”

Lucy Hunt smiled a little. Her unusually colored eyes flashed.

“May I offer you a drink, Your Grace?” he continued, sweeping an arm wide toward the sideboard.

“No, thank you, Captain.”

“More for me then,” he said. Blast. Had he just hiccupped? Bad form. “Tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Pleasure might have come out a bit more like pleather, but no matter. She knew what he meant. He stumbled over to the sideboard and splashed the last of the brandy into his glass. Bloody hell. The bottle was empty. He tipped it upside down and shook it, then tossed the empty bottle into the air. He tried to catch it but missed. It thudded on the carpet and rolled under the sideboard. Julian kicked it into the corner and continued back to the sofa where the duchess was getting settled.

“I came to apologize,” she said softly. “And to give you this.” She pulled a letter from her reticule.

“Apologize for what?” Julian tried to focus his gaze on the duchess. At the moment there appeared to be two of her sitting there, weaving back and forth in a foggy haze like little duchess twins. “It is I who must apologize to you, Your Grace, for I am deeply in my cups.”

A small smile twitched across her lips. “Not to worry, Captain. I completely understand. I should have warned you I was coming, but I came to apologize for my part in the duplicity played upon you at the house party. I was not certain you would see me.”

“I wouldn’t turn away my closest friend’s wife.”

“I see that I was worried needlessly.” She glanced down at the letter in her hand. “But I’ve come to tell you something.”

He clenched his jaw. “If it’s an excuse for Cassie, I’d rather not hear it.”

The duchess leaned forward on the sofa and spoke rapidly and earnestly. “You must listen. The entire thing was all my idea, truly. Though Cass insists you won’t believe me telling you that, it’s true. I swear it.”

He pointed a shaky finger in the air. “With all due respect, Your Grace,” pronounced grath, “even if it is true and it was entirely your idea, you were not my friend, a person whom I’d known for years and traded countless letters with. Your lying to me was far different from Cassandra lying to me.”

“I completely understand, Captain,” the duchess replied. “I do hope you’ll believe it was all my idea, however. I am known for my schemes, as I’m certain my husband will tell you when next you meet. However, be that as it may, I can only hope you’ll reconsider your feelings for Cass and that you’ll—”

“That I’ll what?” He took another drink and nearly missed his mouth.

“That you’ll read this,” she finished, offering him the letter.