The Abandoned Bride by Edith Layton Read Free Book Online Page B

however much she might be blameless in their cause. On the precise day to a year after she had arrived to companion Lady Wingate (Julia was sure of that reckoning, as she had kept track with a pen on a calendar upon her wall, just as any other prisoner might), she offered up her resignation. Surprisingly, her dreadful old ladyship had written a perfectly unexceptional reference as well, perhaps because she had been amazed that any employee could have stayed on with her for that long a time.
    Lord Wycliffe and his despicable actions, Julia thought, as she resolutely fastened up her largest traveling bag, did not bear refining upon. And so, even as she began to carefully wrap and stow away the last of her possessions, Julia could not find it within her to blame Mrs. Bryce. For, on the face of it, she supposed that she might well appear to be a mercenary, conniving, husband-hungry opportunist. Yet, even if she could explain all these things away, there still was one basic truth that was unalterable and inexcusable.
    When she was seventeen, she had gone off unchaperoned with a wealthy young nobleman to be wedded to him, and had returned the next night, accompanied by a different gentleman, still very much unwed.
    It could not matter that she had not cared a jot for his riches or title, or that she had gone with the full cognizance and approval of her family, or even that she had vowed that she had returned, as she had left, a maid. The thing that was not done had been done. Her good name was as lost to her as her betrothed clearly was. Her family had rallied around her, and it made no difference. Both love and guilt impelled them to support her. Though Mama had wept for her daughter’s distress and her own shortsightedness, and the other children had stoutly defended their sister, Papa had blamed himself the most.
    He had no word of censure for Julia. For it had been he who had listened to the sincere young nobleman when he had come to ask permission to pay his addresses, and it had been he who then, had weighed all the risks of an elopement and had finally agreed to it. How easily Robin had brushed away his doubts, admitting in straightforward fashion that, yes, his family might protest or have an eye on a more equal match for him, but that nonetheless he was resolved to wed only where his heart lay. How plausibly and convincingly he had added that as his family loved him, they would come in time to accept his choice of bride, and come to love her as well, but only after the wedding.
    Robin had insisted on elopement, explaining reasonably that he would not have his family think his new in-laws in any way coerced him to his decision. However much Julia’s papa shrank from the idea of a run-away wedding, foremost in his mind was the question of how he could deny his daughter happiness with the handsome and clever young gentleman. But deep in his heart, clouding his clear judgment, there also arose the question of how he could ever hope to obtain a better match for her. She was a mere estate-manager’s daughter, and to see her securely wed to a member of the nobility, even if the thing had to be done in secrecy, was more than he had ever dared envision.
    Ill-advised as it was, young as they both were, it was this secret dream of advancement for her that decided him. It was, in the end, simply too good an opportunity to ever come again. But if it was greed for his child that caused h is acquie sc ence , it was the remembrance of that greed which was to torment him later.
    But who could have resisted Robin? Julia wondered now. Light and laughing Robin, who had sworn to Papa with earnestness evident in every word and gesture, that as he loved and respected his daughter, he would so care for her throughout her life. And if he had conquered practical Papa, he had completely swept away Mama and overwhelmed all the children of the house, herself included.
    At seventeen she had known no real beaux, though it was said in the neighborhood