lout?”
“No, but if one has a false reputation, one might as well use it to one’s advantage. Or one’s country’s advantage, as the case may be.” He grinned at her, retrieved the bottle and took another sip before offering the final sip to her.
Julianna took the bottle and stared at him. “How long were you gone?”
He took a deep breath. He might as well tell her the entire truth. “I was only in France for six weeks. But that’s why I didn’t ask you to marry me before I left. I knew I would be in danger, and I didn’t want you to have to mourn for me if I didn’t come back.”
Julianna stared down at the blanket for a few moments, apparently lost in thought. The sound that came out of her mouth was part sigh, part cry. “It was too late for that,” she finally said softly. “But if you were only gone for six weeks, why didn’t you come back?” She lifted her head again. Her brow was furrowed. “Why did you wait so long to write?”
Perhaps it was the wine or the sultry afternoon or the devil who seemed to live on his shoulder, but Rhys’s next words were, “Let me show you.” He leaned forward, untied his neckcloth and tossed it aside, then pulled his shirt entirely over his head with both hands at the neck.
Julianna sucked in her breath sharply. Her gaze roved over his bare chest. She swallowed, hard.
Rhys straightened his shoulders and pointed to a scar on his lower abdomen, partially covered by the waist of his breeches.
“Here,” he said. “Here is where I was shot. The second time.”
“No!” she exclaimed. She peered at it. “I thought I saw something like this one day when you had your shirt off in the stables. But I couldn’t be certain.” She leaned even closer. “Oh, God,” she said quietly, her hand over her mouth. “What happened?”
Rhys tossed the crumpled-up shirt toward the basket. “I was at a dinner party in Paris and was betrayed. By someone in our ranks.”
She searched his face, her own turning pale. “Who?”
“We don’t know who yet. But we suspect it’s the same man who betrayed our army at Bidassoa.”
She clapped her hand over her mouth again. “No!”
“I’m afraid it’s true. And believe me when I say that as soon as we hunt down the bastard who’s responsible for this, his life won’t be worth a farthing.”
“Did you…did you nearly die?” She gulped.
“Yes, but amazingly not from this gun shot, or the other one.”
“The other one?” Her mouth formed a wide O.
“The other one tore through my thigh. Quite bloody. I still have a slight limp.”
“I haven’t noticed,” she breathed.
“It gets worse when I’m tired or have walked a great distance,” Rhys admitted.
Julianna’s eyes shimmered with tears. “If the two shots didn’t nearly kill you, what did?”
Rhys stared past her into the distance, his mind focusing on that awful night. “When I was shot, first in the thigh, then in the abdomen, I was standing on a balcony. The force of the second shot sent me over the railing.”
Tears slid down both of Julianna’s cheeks. She shook her head silently.
“Thankfully, I was only on the second floor. But it was far enough. I don’t recall much after that. They tell me I was unconscious for two months.” He shook his head and refocused his gaze upon her.
She looked down at the blanket and shook her head as if trying to make sense of the incredible things he’d just told her. She closed her eyes. “That’s why you didn’t write,” she murmured.
“Yes, and when I finally woke up…” He swallowed hard this time. It was more difficult to say the words than he ever would have imagined.
She opened her eyes and swiped at her tears with the backs of her hands. “What happened Rhys? Why didn’t you come back?”
He met her gaze. “When I finally woke up…I was…blind.”
Julianna silently hugged her knees, rocking back and forth, while tears continued to drip down her face.
“It’s true,” Rhys continued, swallowing the lump of fear and guilt and doubt that had formed in his throat. “I was blind, and I didn’t want you to feel obligated to commit to a blind man.”
She lifted her head to meet his gaze again. “I wouldn’t have tossed you over, you must know that.”
“Yes, but would you have loved me? Would you have wanted me?” The words somehow made it through his dry throat.
“Yes, yes of course.” Tears