Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

L eaving Islington Hall was harder than Juliet had anticipated.

Given how long it had taken her to become accustomed to her new way of life, it was surprising how difficult it was to detach herself from the place she had grown to love.

Maybe it is because of all the hopes and dreams that I had nurtured here

She had really tried to trust in her situation and had let her desire to make the most of it be born from less than palatable moments. She had taken things in stride and held onto the belief that one day they could learn to live together like a real family, despite the circumstances that brought them together.

As she stared down the corridor that led to his study, she realized the error of her ways when she found his door locked.

“What a fool I have been,” Juliet sighed, fighting back tears.

“Please, Your Grace, let me go with you,” Leila had pleaded since Juliet had asked for help packing her things.

“No, Leila, you cannot.” Juliet shook her head tiredly. “I understand that you wish to help, but St. Catherine’s is no place for you. From what I have gathered, things are much worse than when I had left them. I cannot promise you that it would be easy to survive there.”

“I don’t care,” her maid said defiantly. “I do not care for my own well-being. I am meant to serve you. I do not want to let you go off on your own.

“No.”

Judging by the look on Leila’s face, Juliet’s voice had come out harsher and colder than she had intended.

She needed to let this girl know that she couldn’t simply throw her life away to be in a place that was equivalent to hell on earth for the sake of someone else.

“I appreciate your concern, Leila. I really do. I am thankful for all the care you have shown me until now, and I wish I could have done more for you in return, but you cannot follow me to the nunnery. I am returning because the girls there need my help and assistance. I do not have much to offer, but I still wish to do whatever I can whilst I am there. It would be better for you to stay here where you are safe.”

Leila’s cheeks were filled with pink, and she shrunk in embarrassment, making Juliet feel responsible for her discomfort.

“I really do appreciate all that you have done for me. I am thankful that you offered your assistance, but I will be fine, all right?”

The younger woman nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. It has been a pleasure serving you thus far. I shall be here, awaiting your return.”

Could I even come back? Would Hector want me to? Or would he come to the realization that I am more trouble than I am worth and choose to stop things from going further?

Devastation flooded Juliet’s chest, and she exhaled deeply, managing to muster a smile for her maid.

“Take care of yourself, Leila.”

Outside, Estella was waiting by the carriage with a gloomy expression on her face.

“Your Grace …”

“I do not wish to burden you with anything more. I am sure it must have been a trying task, looking after me. But I would like to ask you to take care of Hector. His work seems to be rather consuming as of late. Ensure that he eats and gets proper rest. He is stubborn—you know that better than anyone—but he will cave if you push hard enough.”

The elderly woman’s eyes filled with anguish as she nodded.

“Safe travels, Your Grace. We will eagerly await your return.”

Numbly, Juliet nodded and climbed into the carriage. All the emotions and thoughts within her melted together, but a part of her prayed that Hector would come for her and ask her to stay so that they could solve their problems.

After a minute of silence, the coachman asked, “Where to, Your Grace?”

The words felt like sand in her mouth, but she spoke them all the same “Home. St. Catherine’s convent.”

“She is gone, Your Grace.”

Hector paused momentarily, his eyes fixed on the papers scattered across his desk but not seeing a thing written on any of them as his mind tossed around the words he had just heard.

The truth of the matter was as plain and as simple as the words that had been provided to him.

“I see,” Hector muttered, picking up some of the papers in an effort to keep his hands busy.

She had really done it. She had said she would, and hours later, she had left him, left their home, and suspended their marriage.

He did not think the fault was hers, but he still couldn’t shake off the heaviness that covered his heart.

He waved his butler away when it became clear that the man had nothing else to tell him. Hector returned his attention to his work.

Matters might now move much more smoothly since I have no further distractions.

Even though his daily life had simply returned to what it had been before, he knew he had done what he could to fulfil his sister’s dying wishes.

It will be fine, he told himself. In time, everything shall be as seamless as it once had been.

Hector bowed his head and committed himself to his work.

It had taken a week for Juliet to arrive at St. Catherine’s.

All the while her heart had been in a state of unrest. She had hoped that no one had succumbed to their illnesses and passed. She prayed that a savior had appeared at the nunnery during her journey and the state of affairs had significantly improved.

She also took a moment to pray for Hector’s well-being. Despite how much he had hurt her, she still wanted him to be all right.

It was a blessing when she finally arrived at the nunnery and all thoughts of her husband disappeared from her mind

Without speaking to the coachman, Juliet quickly left the carriage and headed inside, her heart sinking at the sight of everything around her.

Sick girls were shivering and coughing, and the halls did not echo because the building was actively falling apart, losing chunks of walls and ceilings that were steadily crumbling.

“No,” she gasped, horrified.

“Juliet?”

Juliet whirled around, coming face to face with the Oblate Beatrice.

She was one of the gentler nuns who was particularly good in taking care of girls who had mastered the art of hiding their pain—Juliet being one of them. Beatrice was a quiet reassurance, and her graceful nature had warmed Juliet’s lonely heart on several occasions. She was also the one who had sent Juliet the letter concerning the state of St. Catherine’s all those weeks ago.

“What are you doing here? I mean…Your Grace,” the young woman tried to curtsey, only to stumble over a chunk of rubble.

Juliet’s hands darted out to steady her as worry flashed in her eyes.

“Juliet. Please call me Juliet. I will always be just Juliet here.

“What happened? How did things get this bad so quickly? I know it has been nearly two months since you sent me your letter, but I had hoped things weren’t this…dear God.”

Juliet glanced around helplessly, her eyes filled with emotion.

“It was not as bad as this when we wrote the letter. When you did not reply, we assumed it was your way of saying we were on our own. With the constant rainy weather, the walls just keep falling apart. The sick have gotten much sicker, and while no one has yet passed yet, I am not sure how much longer they can soldier on. It is truly awful.”

Juliet felt guilt gnawing at her insides.

She had intended to reply, but there was nothing positive she could say. With Hector’s business problems, she did not know when they could afford to be of assistance to the girls of the nunnery.

And so, she had simply waited and prayed for her husband to return with good news.

Now, she was here, bearing nothing but the little food that was left over from her journey.

“I am sorry. I did not have the means to help, so I did not want to send back sad news or false promises. Honestly, I was not able to bring much with me, but we can use the little I have to make things somewhat better,” Juliet replied.

She quickly returned to the carriage to get her things, surprised when she noticed an extra bag packed alongside her belongings.

“What is that?” she asked the coachman, confused.

He glanced at the bag and nodded in acknowledgement.

“Mrs. Harris was worried that you were going so far from home, Your Grace, so she had the maids pack some extra supplies to ensure that you would fare well,” he explained.

Extra supplies? Quickly , Juliet opened the bag, shocked to find not only food but some blankets as well.

“She said they had recently replaced some of the estate’s blankets, and since the old ones were going to be given out anyway, they may as well go to people who truly need them.”

Juliet blinked back tears. For all her opposition to Juliet’s wants, Mrs. Harris still listened to her. She knew how important the girls of St. Catherine’s were to the Duchess, and she had gone out of her way to prepare something for Juliet to help the girls gain some footing until Juliet had formulated a plan. Juliet had tried not to take anything from Islington Hall because she hadn’t wanted to owe Hector more than she already did, but someone else had provided her with the things she’d needed anyway.

“Thank you,” she said in quiet gratitude to Estella.

She turned to Beatrice, urging her along quickly.

“Let us take this inside and prepare the girls something to eat. Then we shall clear some parts to ensure that there are safe areas for us to rest.”

It did not matter what had happened or what she could do. Juliet was here now and determined to do what she could to ensure that these girls survived.

“You still have not found out who is responsible?”

Barry reluctantly shook his head. “The source is still quite unclear because many people are coming forth to claim they know more about you and the Duchess. With so many variations and so many tales…”

“It is almost impossible to track down who started this mess, especially if there were already rumors right after we were married, long before the scandal sheet was published,” Hector finished, rubbing his temple in hopes of easing his growing headache.

It had been two weeks since Juliet had left, and although he had buried himself in his work, it didn’t help him keep his thoughts off his wife.

Hector had not realized how deeply Juliet had interwoven herself into his life until he raised his head one evening and wondered if he should take a break from work to have dinner with her.

Then he remembered that she had left, and the dismay that unfurled in his chest shook him to his soul.

He was not only trying to save them from financial ruin but also doing all he could to clear her name. However, the odds were stacked heavily against him, and just when he thought it was over, just when he had started to believe that he had finally gotten a handle on the situation, it had all fallen apart once again.

Hector felt disappointed in himself, and every day that passed served as further proof that she deserved someone much better and more competent than he was.

“Your Grace, please,” Estella had begged him a few nights ago. “You have barely eaten or slept in days. The Duchess would not want to see you like this.”

He had laughed, hollow and enraged, as he said, “She did not want to see me at all, regardless of whatever state I was in, and that is why she left, in case you were not aware.”

He had returned to his old drinking habits, not necessarily finding comfort at the bottom of a bottle but still gaining some moments of peace when the drink took its effect.

Juliet haunted his dreams: her warm embrace and her sweet lips brushing over his as she whispered words of encouragement to him. Each morning that he awoke alone, he cursed his existence.

He tossed the rest of the drink back in a single mouthful, grimacing as the drink singed the back of his throat.

Because what use was he now? He had failed his mother and had failed Juliet.

He had let down his sister. He did not realize how ill Lydia had become until it was much too late to halt the progress of the disease. He couldn’t uphold his promise to take care of her friend and couldn’t even treat her properly, even though he cared for her deeply.

He had failed as duke and would eventually lose everything he had to his name.

His father would have been utterly disappointed and ashamed of him which was a different standard of disappointment on its own because there was nothing like disappointing one’s dead, awful father.

Just as Hector had begun to think that he couldn’t feel any worse, the doors to his study opened, and Marcus walked in. He was the last person Hector wanted to see at that moment.

Marcus took one look at his disheveled appearance, made a face of utter disgust and declared, “Dear cousin, you look like the devil’s own arse spat you out.”