Nicole Jordan (36 page)

Solange was delighted for her. “
Enfin,
you are getting the recognition and acceptance you deserve.”

Julienne couldn’t help but laugh. “I shall not allow the accolades to swell my head. Next week they will no doubt forget my name.”

She well knew how fickle society could be. She was sought after now because she was a novelty and because she had been decorated by the Crown. But once the luster of her temporary acclaim wore off, the nobility at least would once more turn up their noses at her.

“And what does Lord Wolverton have to say to this?” Solange asked slyly.

Julienne returned a shrug. “I have scarcely spoken to him since our return from Paris.”

Except for those few occasions when they were thrown together, such as the fête at Carleton House, Julienne had seen little of Dare. And there had been no opportunity at all to be intimate with him.

He’d claimed she should be allowed to bask in her moment of glory, but it surprised her that he didn’t press her to share her bed. Nor could he be found among her coterie of admirers at the theater. For the present at least, he was no longer making even the slightest pretense of trying to win their wager. His public pursuit of her appeared to be abandoned.

Perhaps he assumed that he’d already won the victory, Julienne reflected. He might be so certain she would become his mistress that he no longer needed to expend any effort to woo her.

Or perhaps he had already moved on to another challenge. Their task of searching out a deadly spy was over. Dare had no further use for her in that regard, Julienne realized.

Or he might have found another love interest altogether. She tried desperately not to dwell on that possibility. She couldn’t bear the thought of Dare spending his nights indulging in some other woman’s charms—even if she herself intended to sever all ties with him very soon.

Of her continuing employment as a spy, she heard nothing whatsoever. But she knew Lord Wycliff was still in the country because his wife had been delivered of a son the second week of June, while Julienne and Dare were still in France.

Her first awareness that Lord and Lady Wycliff had returned to London was during rehearsals for
Hamlet
, when Julienne was practicing her lines as Ophelia.

Midway through Act III, she found herself summoned by the manager, Samuel Arnold, to his office, where a strikingly beautiful woman with flaming red hair waited. Arnold introduced Lady Wycliff and then withdrew to allow them privacy.

“I apologize for interrupting your rehearsals, Miss Laurent,” Lady Wycliff said when they were both seated. “But I wished to extend you an invitation to a small dinner party I am holding, and I first needed to ascertain your availability. I will only schedule it when your performances permit you to attend.”

Julienne raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I should be free next Tuesday and Wednesday, when a comedy is on the playbill.”

“Then shall we say Tuesday?”

“I would be pleased to come,” Julienne said, still puzzled.

Interpreting her quizzical look, Lady Wycliff gave her a wry smile. “It will be a social coup to have you, of course, considering your current fame, but that has nothing to do with why I’m eager for your presence. Lucian and I would like you to be our guest of honor. It will be a very small gathering, with only our closest friends.”

“I’m not certain I understand, my lady.”

“Please, will you call me Brynn? Titles are so formal, and I hope very much that we might become friends.”

“Very well…But whyever would you want me as your guest of honor?”

Brynn’s smile this time held a wealth of warmth. “Because I should like to express my gratitude in some small measure. I owe you a great deal, Miss Laurent. This is the first time in seven months that I’ve been free to enjoy the slightest privacy, without numerous bodyguards hounding my heels to protect me from Caliban. And I have you to thank for freeing my brother Grayson as well. Gray was forced into hiding last year in order to escape Caliban’s retribution, but he will be able to return home now that the threat is gone.”

Julienne grimaced. “My small role in Caliban’s demise has been much exaggerated, I fear.”

“I don’t think so. Dare told me everything that happened in France—how you risked your life, and how you aided his investigation before that. He could never have located Caliban’s trail if not for you. You are indeed a heroine.”

Julienne felt her color rise at Brynn’s effusive praise. “Dare had much more to do with defeating Caliban than I.”

“Well, I would like to thank you both. You can’t imagine how relieved I will be to have my brother back safely. Gray has been in Scotland all this time, ever since he…became entangled in Caliban’s gold-smuggling operation last fall. Gray was badly wounded and barely escaped with his life, and he had to feign his death to protect his family. He took refuge at Lucian’s castle in the Scottish Highlands. But Philip Barton has gone there to fetch Gray, so I’m hoping to see him any day now. Perhaps in time for my dinner, where he can thank you in person.”

“Truly, thanks are not necessary, Lady Wycliff.”

“Brynn, please. And may I call you Julienne?”

“Yes, if you wish to.”

“I do. I would very much like us to become better acquainted. Dare speaks so highly of you. And I must confess, you have been good for him.”

Julienne eyed her curiously. “What do you mean?”

“He seems more settled now, more serious, as if he has finally found a purpose in life. He is a very special man. Lucian and I both care for him a great deal. I would hate to see Dare hurt—” Brynn broke off with a slight shake of her head. “It is none of my business, of course.”

“I certainly have no intention of hurting him,” Julienne assured her.

“But your wager?” Her warm eyes searched Julienne’s face. “I understand you vowed publicly to bring the Prince of Pleasure to his knees.”

“Our wager was a scheme Dare concocted so he could pursue his investigation of Caliban,” Julienne lied.

“Then you do care for Dare, at least a little?”

“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “I care for him.”

Brynn’s smile was slow and brilliant. “I despaired of him ever finding a woman who could make him happy, but I think perhaps he might have succeeded. Well,” she added briskly, rising, “I have kept you from your rehearsals long enough. I will send a carriage for you next Tuesday at half past seven, if that will be convenient. Lucian knows your direction. It’s his business to know those things.” Brynn held out her hand to clasp Julienne’s. “And if I may be of service to you in any manner whatsoever, please, you have only to let me know. I can never repay you.”

When her visitor was gone, Julienne sat there for a long moment, remembering her admission that she cared for Dare.

She did care. Deeply. She was still wildly in love with him, even more than she had been seven years ago. God help her.

She’d been fooling herself for weeks now, trying to convince herself that she could walk away unscathed, unwounded. But when Caliban had aimed that pistol at Dare, intending to kill him, she knew she could no longer deny her heart. She loved Dare—so much that it hurt.

Julienne drew a sharp breath. She had delayed long enough. She had to end her relationship with him completely, or her misery would only grow worse. She couldn’t bear to remain near Dare, loving him as much as she did when her love wasn’t returned.

And what if he could come to love her? Would his devotion be strong enough to keep him faithful over the years?

She could picture the dismal future: Dare would buy her a house in nearby St. John’s Wood, perhaps—the prime London quarter where gentlemen often kept their mistresses. She would wait for him by the window, yearning for him to bestow his crumbs of affection. Dare would make regular visits for a time, until he grew tired of her. Until he found someone else to take her place.

Julienne thought of his countless women and cringed. Her heart would bleed if he turned to other lovers. And a rake like Dare wasn’t likely to remain constant without ardent love to bind him.

And what of marriage? a small voice inside her asked. It would be an impossibility, of course. A marquess could not wed a notorious actress. But if by some remote chance Dare offered for her hand…?

She knew any such proposal would only come out of guilt or pity, because he felt responsible for the suffering she had endured. She couldn’t allow him to make such a sacrifice. Dare would swiftly come to resent her, and that would be even more unbearable.

No, she would have to free him of any obligation to her, before she lost the will.

Julienne shut her eyes, knowing she couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer. And yet her foolish heart already trembled at the thought of leaving Dare. She didn’t want to imagine a future without the sight of him, without the exquisite feel of his touch, without the joy of his conversation or the delight of matching wits with him….

The prospect set a vast emptiness yawning within her. But she had to act.

She would spend the rest of her life striving to find some sort of peace without him—if that were even possible.

An ache shuddered deep inside Julienne.

She would never forget Dare. Never. He was graven into her soul.

Dare was already present when Julienne was shown into the Wycliff drawing room on Tuesday evening. When their eyes met, she felt her heart leap at the smoldering intensity of his gaze.

He came forward to greet her, and she couldn’t help noticing how his tailored charcoal coat flattered his tall, elegantly lithe form. Nor could she ignore the sizzle of sexual awareness that would forever be the cornerstone of their relationship; the moment he touched her gloved hand, the flame sparked between them.

Dare’s sensual mouth curved wryly in acknowledgement of the sensation, but all he said was, “Come, I want you to meet my closest friends.”

He led her into the room to introduce her to the company that had risen eagerly at her entrance.

It was indeed a small gathering. In addition to Brynn and Lucian, only one other couple was present: Vanessa, Lady Sinclair, and Damien, Baron Sinclair.

Julienne had heard tell of the strikingly handsome baron, who once had been a prime leader of the Hellfire League. His wickedness and libertine propensities had earned him the appellation Lord Sin.

His looks were quite arresting, with his raven hair, penetrating gray eyes, and chiseled features. His wife’s loveliness, however, seemed a perfect foil for his harshly beautiful masculinity. The lady had lustrous dark eyes and sherry-colored hair that shimmered with gold and red highlights, but there was a kindness and serenity about her that immediately put Julienne at ease.

“I am honored to meet you, Miss Laurent,” Lady Sinclair said, clasping Julienne’s hand warmly. “Your stunning performances have provided us immeasurable enjoyment this season. And Dare has been regaling us with your amazing heroics.”

Julienne shot Dare a quelling look even as she blushed. “I believe Lord Wolverton has a tendency to embellish the truth, my lady.”

“Please, I am Vanessa, and this is my husband, Damien.”

Lord Sinclair stepped forward. “It is indeed a pleasure to meet you. I’m well aware of Dare’s tendencies, but in this case, I think you deserve the laurels. Castlereagh’s endorsement gives significant weight to any claims this frivolous fellow”—he slapped Dare on the back—“might make.”

Dare’s smile was pained. “I vow I am being maligned unjustly. You forget, Sin, that I have a new medal to prove just how unfrivolous I can be.”

“Indeed you do,” Damien agreed with a chuckle. “It’s just that I’m damned envious of your exploits. It will only add luster to your legendary halo and make you even more favored by all the ladies.”

Lucian went to the sideboard to pour her a glass of sherry while Brynn led Julienne to a settee and drew her down.

“I told you we are very informal,” Brynn said to her. “Regrettably our other close friends couldn’t be here. Raven and Kell sailed for the Caribbean three months ago. I wish you could have met them. I know you would have loved Raven. She helped ease my way in society last year when I wed Lucian and had to face all his haughty relatives.”

When Lucian returned with Julienne’s wine, he proposed a toast to the guests of honor—Julienne and Dare—and was roundly endorsed. Once the applause died, Dare raised his own glass.

“I think another toast is in order,” he said with a wicked smile. “To the latest addition to the League. May he have no trouble following in his father’s footsteps.”

Brynn shook her head fiercely. “Dare, that is a horrible thing to wish. You take that back!”

At the genial laughter, Julienne frowned quizzically.

“Our son is barely two weeks old,” Brynn explained. “And already Dare is plotting for him to resume Lucian’s membership in the Hellfire League.” She gave Dare a mock glare. “Over my dead body.”

“Dare is only jesting, sweetheart,” Lucian said, amused. “He knows the League’s ranks will remain thin for some time. Which reminds me…I would like to thank my lovely wife,” he said softly, “for giving me the son I always longed for.” He shared a lingering look with Brynn, one so tender and intimate, it made Julienne’s heart hurt.

“At least we don’t have to worry about that just yet,” Vanessa murmured to Julienne, “since we have a daughter. Our difficulties will likely be of a different sort. Catherine is only three, but she has her father completely wrapped around her finger, along with every other male she sees.”

“But the next one could be a son,” Damien said, giving his own wife the same kind of heated, cherishing glance, his gaze burning with love.

With a secretive smile, Vanessa pressed a hand to her abdomen. “We’re fortunate to be expecting another child.”

Julienne had to look away as a bittersweet yearning pierced her. She would likely never have children. Not Dare’s, at any event, which was all she wanted.

Glancing at him, she found Dare regarding her intently. Julienne forced herself to smile and ask an innocuous question regarding attendance at the planned public peace celebrations, which fortunately served to change the subject.