Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,216

like an icy lake. A foreboding crack was snaking across the surface, racing toward him. He would be lost in the water below, trapped. Every plan he’d made over the last two years, every pound saved, would be for naught. Sagging against the headboard, he tried to remember how to breathe properly.

She sighed. “Julius, you cannot have forgotten. Not after we—” Her gaze strayed to his lap and blood rushed to her cheeks. “I needn’t tell you. You were there, all three times.”

Three? No, he would remember if they had been intimate—even once, wouldn’t he?

“Please say something, my love. You are frightening me.” She touched his thigh.

“I believe there has been a misunderstanding.” He tossed the covers aside and crawled from bed, bare as the day he was born.

“Good heavens!” She averted her eyes, blinking several times.

Where the hell were his clothes? His discarded drawers were on a chair by the hearth, which meant his pants had to be here somewhere. While he searched the floor, she pleaded with him to cover himself. He ceased the hunt to gawk in her direction, perplexed by the rising panic in her voice. It was too late to be acting missish now.

Her chest rose and fell with agitated breaths.

Faith, is she going to cry? He felt helpless when ladies cried, which had been a frequent occurrence with five sisters at home. Before any tears fell, he’d always made it a practice of exiting the room. A retreat was impossible, however, when one didn’t have his trousers.

“Wh-where are you going?”she asked.

He looked under the bed. There was nothing there. “Apparently, nowhere.” He marched to the chair to grab the still damp drawers and pulled them on. “Could we clear up this matter after I’ve had a cup of tea? I cannot think at the moment.”

“I don’t understand. You promised”—her voice caught—“You didn’t mean a word you said last night. How could I be so stupid?” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

“Now, see here.” He approached her side of the bed, compelled to offer comfort and having no idea how to go about it. “I’ll not listen to you insult yourself.” He patted her back harder than intended.

“Ow!” She angled her body away.

“Sorry. Uh, I’m sorry.” Hesitantly, he reached for her again, feeling like a clumsy oaf. “Please, don’t cry. We will figure this out.”

“What is there to figure out?” Her voice was muffled, but the sobbing had stopped. “We have an understanding.”

Taking a deep breath, he managed to suppress his mounting alarm. She needed a rock right now. He would be that for her, since this mess was his fault. He must have been much drunker than he’d realized.

“As it appears we are the only ones who know what occurred last night,” he said, “there is still time to salvage the situation. Surely, you have no desire to remarry. Think of the freedom your status allows. How happy could any woman be when she is tied to one man for life?"

“Ha!” She raised her head; her eyes were dry. “I knew you were the type of man who would try to weasel out of a promise. I was right about you.”

“Damnation, woman. You haven’t shed a single tear.”

“My heart is crying.” She smirked. “My eyes didn’t receive the message.”

Julius gasped. Never had a woman spoken to him in such a manner. His muddled brain couldn’t decide if he was more offended or awed by her gall.

She took advantage of his gobsmacked state to scoot from the bed opposite him. “Your view on marriage is disturbing, Julius Everly. Tying up women? Is that what you believe a husband does?”

“No, of course not.” Julius was too tired to make sense of the conversation. “You are twisting my words, purposefully assigning a literal meaning.”

“I will have you know Lord Hadley was the kindest, most encouraging man I have ever known.” Her hand landed on her hip, her expression smug. “I became my own woman after we married, something I was never allowed to be in my father’s house. My husband was my dearest friend.”

He frowned. His mother said much the same about his father. From Julius’s observations, it was a sly way of saying a man was henpecked. His mother was the undisputed ruler at Everly Manor, and his father never went against her wishes.

“I pity any woman unfortunate enough to find herself tied to you, Lord Julius, and your outdated ideas of marriage.”

“I don’t understand.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, wishing