Emily Hendrickson by The Unexpected Wife Page A

filter through his brain. If we are so in love, why were we living apart? Did we quarrel?” she inquired. “Mind you, he does not know all this at the moment, but someone may inadvertently tell him, people loving to gossip as they do.”
    “Lovers do quarrel, it is true. Perhaps we disagreed on the attentions paid you by some gentleman who shall remain nameless?” Alexander searched her face for a clue to her thoughts; his words appeared to upset her.
    “I doubt he would believe anyone would take offense at that,” she said forlornly. “My stepbrother has forever criticized my looks, my conduct, my dress. Nothing I did ever seemed to please him.” She glanced at the pretty clock on the mantel. “It will shortly be dinnertime. I had best change, although I suppose you need not. You look very splendid,” she concluded naively.
    “But I wish to impress that nasty stepbrother of yours,” Alexander said with a smile. “Randall shall do his best to make me look imposing.”
    Juliet gave him a considering look, then said, “I believe you would look imposing in your dressing gown—or indeed, in nothing at all.” Then she realized what she had said and blushed furiously. “Oh, do go away before you make me say something else highly improper.”
    Chuckling to himself, Alexander went through the connecting door to his room, shutting the door most firmly behind him. He had a motive for his action; he desired Marius Winterton to believe that the marriage was very real, that the connecting door between Alexander’s room and Juliet’s was often used. That it was a bit like putting a noose about his neck he considered, then discarded the thought. He was far beyond the point of return now.
    Juliet heard the door click shut, then took her hands from her burning face. How could she have uttered such words? Would she never learn to think before she spoke? She had meant to tell him that his clothes had nothing to do with his imposing manner, and look how it had come out! Stupid, stupid girl. And she had said a thought would take time to filter through Marius’s brain. She doubted she possessed one!
    Pansy scratched on her door, then hesitantly entered the room, carrying a pretty periwinkle silk dinner gown. It was simply cut with a shirred panel across the bosom and a neckline edged in white. Once dressed, Juliet hunted though her belongings for something that would go well with it.
    A rap on the connecting door brought her head up from the drawer she searched. Alexander entered, one hand held behind him.
    “I forgot—happy birthday. It’s a trifle late, but better that than not at all.” He crossed the room to hand her a small, neat box.
    “The ring and now this?” she inquired in a wondering tone. Upon opening the box, she found the lovely fan, white with a painted scene on it, and ivory sticks that were prettily carved. “Oh!” she cried with delight. “I have never had such a pretty fan, and it is just the thing to set off my gown. Thank you, dear Alexander.” She brushed a kiss on his cheek, mindful of the watching Pansy, then flicked open the fan to hold it before her. “Very nice, indeed. You spoil me, my lord.”
    “I believe you could do with a bit of spoiling if you think that extravagant,” he replied, then abruptly returned to his room, the door clicking loudly behind him.
    Although Juliet said nothing to her maid, she wondered if she had not been properly appreciative, or perhaps she had not thanked him correctly. He had seemed remote, almost bitter. Doubtless, Miss Pritchard could have told her, but Juliet was on her own now, and she would have to take greater heed of her words, not to mention actions.
    Upon leaving her room to go downstairs, she encountered her stepbrother. She gave him a questioning look as he barred her way.
    “I wish to talk with you before we go down, and not with Lord Hawkswood around.” He gestured to the door behind Juliet, indicating they should enter.
    Pansy took one look