Julia didn’t answer. She chewed her lip instead and screwed up her hands in the covers beneath her. She knew what she felt. It had come sharply into focus that night the moment Edward had bent down to pick up Lord Gillet’s glove off the floor, accepting the challenge of a duel.
I do love him.
Julia’s breath hitched as the tears began.
“Oh, My Lady.” Maria flung her arms around Julia and held onto her. Julia clutched back with a tight embrace, terrified to let go. For a minute, she indulged in those tears, letting them wrack her body with great shuddering breaths.
“I have done this to him, M-Maria,” she stammered through her tears. “I love him, yet I have drawn him to this moment. It was my doing, all because I could not stand the thought of marrying Lord Gillet. If Edward is hurt, it will be my doing.”
“Who says he is going to be hurt?” Maria said, pulling back from their embrace to look Julia in the eye. “Have you not thought that Edward could win this duel?”
“Perhaps in a fair duel, but…” She trailed away, not having to explain her thought, for Maria grimaced, showing she understood. Julia was quite confident that Lord Gillet was capable of bending the rules, so there would be no such thing as a fair fight. “I must stop this,” Julia whispered, sniffing and trying her best to halt her tears.
A tap disturbed the two of them. Julia glanced at the door, fearing they had been overheard, but a second tap showed it was not on wood, but on glass. She and Maria turned their heads to the window, where a figure made Maria yelp in surprise.
“Who is that?”