The American Bride - By Karla Darcy Page 0,65
he intended to make her his mistress, willing or not. Even when she had charged him with his married state, he had sneered at her naiveté. And on the very eve of his bride's arrival!
Worst for Cara was the humiliation she felt at what a fool she had been to think he had reciprocated her feelings. He had seen her only as an object to assuage his raging lust. While she had opened her heart to him he had eyed her physical attributes, content to toy with her emotions. At least, once he realized who she was, she would have the satisfaction of telling him what she thought of his behavior.
What would Julian do then? Cara wondered.
She supposed he could repudiate the marriage. Even the thought of it filled her with an agonizing feeling of loss. If he divorced her she might be able to live with the shame of it but never to see Julian again was an insupportable thought. Of course his other alternative was to accept the marriage but make it a sham relationship. In his anger and pride he might leave her alone in the country and continue his life in London as he had done in his bachelor days. Valencia Greeley's cat-like face floated across Cara's consciousness. Sobbing, Cara pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as she thought of the humiliation of being forced to accept Julian's return to his mistress.
"Enough!" Cara exclaimed aloud. She was no weak-kneed maiden. No matter the outcome of this nasty coil she would accept it with dignity. She bathed her face, fortifying the white-faced girl in the mirror. Through the door into the schoolroom, she could hear the happy chatter of the children. Straightening her shoulders, she reminded herself that she still had a job to do until her grandmother's carriage arrived to take her back to London.
Cara never knew how she got through the remainder of the day. Later she was never able to remember much about her last day at the Hall.
As the hands of the clock crept toward the time of her departure Cara waited for the arrival of Richard and Belin. Her portmanteau was packed and there were only the children to deal with. She had inveigled Mrs. Clayton into providing a lavish snack, earlier in the afternoon than usual. Praying that everything might by some miracle work out, she pasted a smile on her face as she heard the clatter of feet outside the schoolroom.
"Oh, Richard. Look at all the food," Belin chirped, her fingers reaching out to hover over the cream-filled buns which were her favorite. "What a wonderful surprise, Miss Farraday."
"It looks like a grand party. Is Uncle Julian coming?" Richard's face lit up with anticipation.
"No, Richard," Cara said. Then after the chorus of groans had subsided, "Your uncle had to make an urgent trip to London. He should be back in a few days."
"Well, it's lovely anyway," Belin pronounced, sighing with pleasure as she bit into one of the buns.
"Why the party, Miss Farraday?" Richard asked in a surprisingly adult voice.
He stared at her through eyes that had seen more tragedies than most children of his age. Perhaps because of his own experiences he was more sensitive to upheavals. Eyeing Belin attacking another pastry, Richard gave Cara a speaking glance then leaned over to pour out the hot chocolate with a hand that shook slightly.
"It's not all that bad, Richard," Cara whispered. Reaching out, she ruffled his hair then smiling she brushed an errant curl away from his forehead. "Come and sit down."
Belin seemed to sense a tension in the air and stopped eating. Her glance swung uneasily from her brother to her governess and then back again to Richard.
"I thought it would be fun to have a little party ourselves," Cara began. Then seeing the wariness in the eyes of the children she hurried ahead. "I have to go up to London also. I'm not sure just how long it will take but I have to attend to some business."
"But who will take care of us?" Belin lisped.
Tears started in Belin's eyes as she wailed out the question. Cara opened up her arms and the child climbed into the temporary safety of her governess' lap. Leaning against Cara's shoulder, Belin sniffled in her distress. Looking over the jumble of black curls to the boy beyond she was surprised to see angry color rise to Richard's face.
"Did Uncle Julian send you down?" the boy asked belligerently.
"Oh, no, Richard,"