- Home
- Somewhere I'll Find You
Page 13
Page 13
She was evasive but not unfriendly as she replied. “Have you continued your search for her, Lord Hargate?”
Damon nodded, staring at her intently. “Yes, without any luck. Julia Hargate doesn't seem to exist anywhere in the civilized world.”
In the next room, Julia pressed her ear close to the door, embarrassed to be eavesdropping but unable to stop herself. She was unbearably curious to find out what Savage would say to her mother, what tactics he would use to try to discover the truth.
“And if you do eventually find my daughter?” Eva inquired. “What are your intentions toward her, my lord?”
“From all indications, Julia is either afraid or unwilling to take her place as my wife. God knows I don't blame her. We're complete strangers. All I want is to know that she is well, and that she has everything she needs. Then I intend to resolve the matter in any way Julia prefers.”
“What if she wants to remain your wife? She may desire to become a duchess someday.”
“Then let her tell me so herself,” Damon replied grimly, his tension suddenly whipping out of control. “Let me see it in her eyes, and hear it in her voice. Damn her, I'd like to know what she desires, so I can stop looking for her and be done with this!” Instantly he regretted the outburst, fearing he had offended the delicate creature. “Pardon—” he muttered, but she waved the apology away and looked at him with disconcerting understanding.
“More than anything,” she said, “my daughter wishes to make choices for herself…and she has always rebelled against the fact that one of the greatest choices of all was stolen from her. Of course you must feel the same way.”
Suddenly Damon's emotions rushed within him like a river battering against a crumbling dam. There was no one in the world he trusted enough to confide in, not even William. His problems, his feelings, had always been his own burden, and he alone had been responsible for them. But at this moment the need to tell them to someone was one of the most powerful compulsions he had ever known.
Damon flexed his hands and spread his palms on his knees. “Yes, I feel the same way,” he said, his voice raspy. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. “I know why Julia rebelled, and why she's unable to face the consequences of what Lord Hargate and my father arranged. Although I've always known it wasn't her fault, I still blamed Julia for things she had nothing to do with. For years I hated her, almost as much as I hated my father for being a spendthrift and a gambler. I tried to forget her very existence. My mother's death and my father's ill health enabled me to bury myself in a world of new responsibilities. But Julia was always there in the back of my mind. I've never been able to love anyone, never felt I had the right to, because of her. I realized I could only be free of her by facing her.”
“I never realized how the marriage would affect the two of you,” Eva murmured. “At the time it seemed to make a strange sort of sense. Two families of good blood, ensuring that their children would each have a suitable life's partner…I felt relief, knowing that my daughter's future was taken care of, and that she would someday have a title that everyone would respect. Perhaps it would have been an acceptable arrangement for any other child but Julia. Unfortunately, I didn't know that my own family would be torn apart by the decision I acquiesced to. I didn't understand what a strong will she had…has,” she corrected with a rueful smile.
“What is she like?” Damon heard himself ask thickly.
“Julia doesn't resemble me, or her father…it seemed that even as a child she relied on her own opinions and judgment rather than defer to ours. I wish she weren't quite so independent—I don't believe that is a particularly useful quality for a woman. But there is another side to her, fanciful, passionate, and vulnerable. She has infinite moods and interests. I've never found her to be the least bit predictable…”
As Damon stared at Lady Hargate, his attention was caught by the glitter of jewels amid the ruffles at her throat. She kept talking, but the meaning of the words was suddenly elusive, all sound muffled by the startled drumming of his heart. He glanced away to keep from betraying his thoughts, but an image burned brightly in his mind, and sudden knowledge exploded inside him. He fought to keep his breathing steady.
She was wearing the ruby pin he had given Jessica Wentworth.
There was no other like it in the world, and no possible way Lady Hargate could have received it except…
It had been a gift from her daughter…Jessica Wentworth…Julia Hargate.
Chapter 5
It was difficult for Damon to keep from staring at the ruby pin. He had bought it for Jessica Wentworth, and he had taken pleasure in the idea that she might wear something he had given her. So many things were beginning to make sense…her elusiveness, her mysteriously absent husband, her instant recognition of the rare roses that had been a gift from her mother to his all those years ago.
Questions seared through his mind, followed by conclusions that made his mouth harden bitterly. Why hadn't she told him who she was? What kind of game had she been playing? He had thought she felt the same attraction for him that he had for her, but perhaps it was all an illusion. She was an actress, a skilled one. She must have planned to make him fall in love with her, while she laughed inwardly because he didn't know she was his wife.
His blood raced with anger and hurt pride. He could hardly wait to get his hands on her and throttle her for what she had put him through. Three years of fruitless searching, while she had been hiding in the most public place of all—the theater. He had imagined Julia Hargate as a fragile dove seeking refuge from the unbearable circumstances of her marriage, and instead she was a successful actress with a talent for deceit.
No wonder her family hadn't wanted to admit what had become of her. It was unheard of for a young woman of her fortune and breeding to turn to a life on the stage. Most of Lord Hargate's peers would sneer and call Julia a disgrace. All the same, Damon was aware of a sneaking admiration for her boldness. It had taken courage to accomplish what she had, surviving—no, prospering—with nothing but her own talent. She had made tremendous sacrifices and undertaken serious risks to attain her goal. Her disdain for the arranged marriage, and her desire to thwart her father's wishes, must have been formidable.
He had battled with the same feelings all these years—it was only that they had reacted differently to their circumstances. Julia had relinquished everything, her reputation, her security, and even her name. He, on the other hand, had assumed his father's position as head of the family, determined to control not only his own life but the lives of everyone around him.
Keeping his gaze on Lady Hargate's face, Damon felt an unwilling touch of pity for her. She seemed to be a kind woman, but ill-equipped to deal with her domineering husband and willful daughter. Lady Hargate stared at him questioningly, seeing that something had changed in his expression.
“I realize that Julia doesn't want to be found,” Damon said with forced calm, “but this has gone on for too long. I have obligations that you aren't aware of. There are important decisions I must make, and soon. I've waited years for Julia to appear. I can't wait any longer.”
Lady Hargate seemed flustered by his direct stare. “Yes, I understand. Lord Savage…if I can manage to send word to Julia, I will try to convince her to come to you.”
Before Damon could reply, a new voice entered the conversation. “You will not!”
They looked up in unison at the man who entered the room…and Damon stood to confront his father-in-law, Lord Hargate.
“Edward!” Eva said, her complexion turning chalky with dismay. “I-I didn't expect you to return so early.”
“How fortunate that I did,” her husband replied, his face wreathed in brittle hauteur. “You should have refused to receive Lord Savage, my dear, until I was available to see him.”
“I couldn't turn away Julia's husband…”
Edward Hargate ignored his wife's feeble protests and exchanged a long stare with Damon. The past two years had aged him greatly, turning his iron-colored hair into a distinctive silver-streaked mane. A web of fine lines had not softened his lean face, but had given it the appearance of time-weathered granite. His eyes were as small and black as olives, shaded by thick, unruly brows. He was a tall man with not an ounce of fat to spare, a man who clearly made stringent demands on himself as well as others.
“To what do we owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit?” he asked Damon in a voice saturated with sarcasm.
“You already know,” Damon said curtly.
“You shouldn't have come. I believe I've made it clear that you will learn nothing about my daughter from us.”
Damon kept his face inscrutable, in spite of the growing fury that spread through him. He wanted to leap on the older man and wipe the smug superiority off his face. Obviously Hargate felt no remorse for anything he had done, no matter whom he had hurt.
“This situation isn't of my making,” Damon said in a low voice. “I have a right to know what has become of Julia.”
The older man laughed harshly. “You don't want to know about the shame she has brought on all of us…herself, her family, and even you, her husband. Do what you wish about her—just don't mention her name in my presence.”
“Edward,” Eva said pitifully, her voice breaking. “I don't understand why things must be this way—”
“She chose this, not I,” he said sharply, seeming unmoved by the tear that trickled down his wife's thin cheek.
Julia had been frozen in the next room, flattened against the wall by the door as she listened to the meeting between Lord Savage and her parents. Her instinct for survival prompted her to flee, she felt terribly vulnerable, as if one harsh word from her father would cause her to shatter. She was terrified to face him. But the need to see him, and force him to recognize her presence, drove her to act. Before she was aware of what she was doing, she launched herself through the doorway and strode into the receiving room.
At the sight of her daughter, Eva gasped in dismay. Lord Savage showed no reaction, save a sudden clenching of his jaw. Edward seemed thunderstruck by her appearance.
Coming to stand by her mother, Julia slid a hand over her mother's narrow shoulder. Perhaps it appeared to be a gesture of comfort, but in truth it was to give herself strength. The frailty of her mother's bones beneath her hand, and the knowledge that her father had contributed to Eva's unhappiness, whipped Julia's anger to new heights.
“How dare you show your face here!” her father exclaimed.
“Believe me, I wouldn't if there were any other way to see Mama.”
“The two of you have been conspiring against me!”
Julia stared at him, noting the changes that time had made in him, the new lines on his face, the silver of his hair. She wondered if he could see that she had altered as well, that she had lost her sweet girlish softness and had now become a woman. Why had he been incapable of the fatherly tenderness she had always longed for? A few words of kindness from him, an expression of pride in her accomplishments, might have changed the course of her life. She wished to rid herself of the need for his love, had tried ever since she had left him…but something in her stubbornly refused to relinquish the last vestiges of hope.
The humiliating sting of tears rose to her eyes, and she willed them not to fall. “I was never able to please you,” she said, staring at her father's stony face. “Is it any wonder that I finally stopped trying? No one is ever able to suit your high standards.”
“You're claiming that I expected too much of you,” her father remarked with a lift of his craggy brows. “All I ever asked was for your obedience. I hardly think that unreasonable. In return I gave you luxury, education, and, God forgive me, a well-titled husband.”
“Do you know why I became an actress? Because I used to spend all my time imagining what it would be like if you loved me, if you cared a whit about what I thought and felt. I became so good at pretending that I couldn't live any other way.”
“Don't blame me for your failings!” Edward cast a scathing glance at Damon. “I find it an amusing irony to see how perfect the two of you are for each other—both rebellious and ungrateful. Well, I won't interfere in your life again—and you will not interfere in mine. I forbid either of you to return here.”
Instinctively Damon moved forward to stop the argument. But as he approached Julia, she jerked away with a startled sound and gave him a look of helpless appeal that stunned him. In that moment he realized that he understood her, perhaps more than anyone else ever would. She possessed the same futile combination of pride and longing that had driven him his entire life. She wanted to be loved, but she was terrified of surrendering her heart to someone else's keeping.
Damon's hand twitched at his side. He was on the verge of reaching for her, taking her away from the ugly scene. Words hovered on his lips, things he had never said to a woman before. Come with me…I'll take care of everything…I can help you. Before he could make a move, Julia turned and fled the room, her back straight and her fists clenched. After her exit, the room became eerily silent. Damon turned to observe that Lord Hargate seemed unmoved by the scene.
“Whatever my faults,” Hargate said, “I never deserved a child like her.”
A sneer pulled at Damon's lips. “I agree. She's far too good for you.”
Hargate gave a disdainful huff. “Kindly remove your presence from my household, Savage.” He gave a warning glance to his wife, indicating that the matter was far from over, and left the room in a few imperious strides.
Damon went to Lady Hargate, who had begun to look rather ill. He crouched by her chair. “Shall I call for a servant?” he asked. “Is there something you require?”
She responded with a bobbing shake of her head. “Please,” she said in a faltering voice, “you must try to help Julia. She may seem very strong, but underneath—”
“Yes, I know,” he murmured. “Julia will be all right. You have my word.”
“How sad that it should come to this,” she whispered. “I always hoped that someday the two of you would find each other, and then … ”
“And then?” he asked, his brows drawing together.
She smiled faintly at her own foolishness. “And then you might have discovered that you were right for each other, after all.”