Read Online An American Duchess by Sharon Page - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sharon Page
Ads: Link
you must marry.”
The shadow darkened Julia’s eyes. “I do not think that’s possible. My fiancé, Anthony, was killed at the Somme. It is years ago now, but the loss...has not gone away. I do not think I could ever fall in love again. My mother and grandmother think me foolish, but I cannot marry without love.”
“My fiancé was killed in a plane crash. He was lost over the Atlantic Ocean. I do understand what you mean. I can’t—” But of course, she couldn’t tell Julia she understood it was impossible to fall in love again—Julia thought she loved Sebastian.
Women did survive—they did get over loss. Zoe knew it was possible. Just not for her. But it had to be so for Julia.
“I think you can open your heart again,” she said, making it sound like the gospel truth. “I did, after all. I met your brother Sebastian.”
“I do not think it will be that way for me.”
“Julia, do you do things for fun?”
“I have not felt very much like having fun.”
Zoe would not have survived losing Richmond at all if she hadn’t at least grabbed hold of life, rather than lock herself away to mourn.
Julia deserved to be happy. And after Zoe and Sebastian divorced, Julia would not listen to her scandalous former sister-in-law. If she wished to help Julia, she must do it now. “After your Women’s Institute meeting, Julia, we are going to drive down to London. It’s time you begin to have fun again.”
“I don’t think I could.”
“You can. Do you think the man who loved you would want to see you wither away in sorrow? The best way to make his sacrifice mean something is to live the life he was fighting for.”
* * *
“Where do you think she took her?”
Horns blared as Sebastian, dressed in a duster and driving goggles, took a corner wide and crossed into oncoming London traffic. Nigel’s heart jumped into his throat. Despite the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears, he said, with forced sangfroid, “Bloody hell, Sebastian. You have to stay on the left side of the road.”
“This is the left side of the road.”
“Not in England, it’s not. Move over.”
“Spoilsport. It’s a lot easier to get through traffic when people are fighting to get out of your way. I’ll head for the 400 Club.”
Nigel did not doubt Miss Gifford had been able to ferret out the most popular dancing club in London. “No. Try Murray’s,” he growled. “On Beak Street.”
“Murray’s?” As usual, Sebastian took his gaze off the road to embark on a conversation. “How do you know about the jazz clubs in town, brother? You never leave Brideswell.”
“I know about Murray’s. Turn here.” He’d heard about it in letters from friends. From war comrades who didn’t understand why he was hiding away at Brideswell.
Sebastian swung the wheel, cut across traffic and made a hazardous left turn that aged Nigel by a decade. Having been shot at for four years, Nigel had no intention of dying in an automobile crash. “Pull over and let me drive.”
“You don’t drive,” Sebastian protested. “You’d be worse than me.”
“That would be impossible. Watch where you are going.”
Nigel had never been in a London dance club. The only club he frequented in town was White’s, which had been favored by the Dukes of Langford for almost one hundred and fifty years. Murray’s had the staid, imposing facade of a bank. Sebastian located the curb by hitting it with the tires. Nigel jumped out, and within moments, he stood at the bottom of the stairs in the massive ballroom, straining to spot Julia.
“There is my beloved.” At his side, Sebastian smoothed his slicked-back hair.
Nigel stared. “What in blazes is she doing? It looks like she is having a seizure.”
“Dancing, brother.”
Nigel watched Sebastian claim Miss Gifford. Her legs jerked behind her, kicking like a mule, and her hands waved wildly around her head like a drowning woman begging for rescue. Tall feathers showed every contorted motion of
The shadow darkened Julia’s eyes. “I do not think that’s possible. My fiancé, Anthony, was killed at the Somme. It is years ago now, but the loss...has not gone away. I do not think I could ever fall in love again. My mother and grandmother think me foolish, but I cannot marry without love.”
“My fiancé was killed in a plane crash. He was lost over the Atlantic Ocean. I do understand what you mean. I can’t—” But of course, she couldn’t tell Julia she understood it was impossible to fall in love again—Julia thought she loved Sebastian.
Women did survive—they did get over loss. Zoe knew it was possible. Just not for her. But it had to be so for Julia.
“I think you can open your heart again,” she said, making it sound like the gospel truth. “I did, after all. I met your brother Sebastian.”
“I do not think it will be that way for me.”
“Julia, do you do things for fun?”
“I have not felt very much like having fun.”
Zoe would not have survived losing Richmond at all if she hadn’t at least grabbed hold of life, rather than lock herself away to mourn.
Julia deserved to be happy. And after Zoe and Sebastian divorced, Julia would not listen to her scandalous former sister-in-law. If she wished to help Julia, she must do it now. “After your Women’s Institute meeting, Julia, we are going to drive down to London. It’s time you begin to have fun again.”
“I don’t think I could.”
“You can. Do you think the man who loved you would want to see you wither away in sorrow? The best way to make his sacrifice mean something is to live the life he was fighting for.”
* * *
“Where do you think she took her?”
Horns blared as Sebastian, dressed in a duster and driving goggles, took a corner wide and crossed into oncoming London traffic. Nigel’s heart jumped into his throat. Despite the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears, he said, with forced sangfroid, “Bloody hell, Sebastian. You have to stay on the left side of the road.”
“This is the left side of the road.”
“Not in England, it’s not. Move over.”
“Spoilsport. It’s a lot easier to get through traffic when people are fighting to get out of your way. I’ll head for the 400 Club.”
Nigel did not doubt Miss Gifford had been able to ferret out the most popular dancing club in London. “No. Try Murray’s,” he growled. “On Beak Street.”
“Murray’s?” As usual, Sebastian took his gaze off the road to embark on a conversation. “How do you know about the jazz clubs in town, brother? You never leave Brideswell.”
“I know about Murray’s. Turn here.” He’d heard about it in letters from friends. From war comrades who didn’t understand why he was hiding away at Brideswell.
Sebastian swung the wheel, cut across traffic and made a hazardous left turn that aged Nigel by a decade. Having been shot at for four years, Nigel had no intention of dying in an automobile crash. “Pull over and let me drive.”
“You don’t drive,” Sebastian protested. “You’d be worse than me.”
“That would be impossible. Watch where you are going.”
Nigel had never been in a London dance club. The only club he frequented in town was White’s, which had been favored by the Dukes of Langford for almost one hundred and fifty years. Murray’s had the staid, imposing facade of a bank. Sebastian located the curb by hitting it with the tires. Nigel jumped out, and within moments, he stood at the bottom of the stairs in the massive ballroom, straining to spot Julia.
“There is my beloved.” At his side, Sebastian smoothed his slicked-back hair.
Nigel stared. “What in blazes is she doing? It looks like she is having a seizure.”
“Dancing, brother.”
Nigel watched Sebastian claim Miss Gifford. Her legs jerked behind her, kicking like a mule, and her hands waved wildly around her head like a drowning woman begging for rescue. Tall feathers showed every contorted motion of
Similar Books
