“He should, and maybe when he realizes that you know the truth, he will be afraid. It seems that he holds all the power at the moment. He knows I am trying to protect my father and my family’s reputation. And he knows he can destroy both with the wrong word,” Ester replied.
“I know,” Julian muttered, “it is simply unjust.”
Ester looked into his face searchingly. “Is it too much? I would understand if it was. I am asking you to cut off your oldest friend, disrupt your business. All for a woman you hardly know.”
Julian barked a laugh. “Do not talk me out of it, Ester.”
When he noticed guilt wash over her expression, he sobered, looking into her eyes.
“You have not asked me for anything other than to be allowed to leave Theydon Mount with your father’s money. This course of action is my decision and I would make the same decision again a thousand times. I feel a fool and I can hear Doctor Hakesmere’s voice in my head telling me so. He was ever the pragmatist. You are right. I hardly know you. And you hardly know me. But I do not think it matters. Because something had drawn us together more than the usual trivia that two people look for when deciding on a match. I cannot explain it but I am a child of a mystic and learned long ago that there is much in the world that cannot be explained. I do not try to. I accept... Particularly when the mystery seems to be so favorable.”
He grinned boyishly and his reward was immediate as a smile bloomed across Ester's lips. When relief from her worries peeked out, it shone like rays of the brightest sunshine. Her joy suffused every inch of her, casting a radiant glow that Julian thought only the divine could possess. A sense of gladness blossomed in his heart, that he had been able to bring forth such a smile. That he had been able to lift the burden from her shoulders, even if only for a fleeting moment.
“So, let us be reckless together and enjoy it while we may,” Ester added, her smile unwavering. “I am sure that the world will force us to responsibility and proper behavior soon enough.”
Julian laughed. There was no doubt that he felt lighter when he was in Ester’s presence. It made him realize how much weight he had been carrying for his entire life. For so long that the burden had become unnoticed. That is until it was temporarily lifted from his shoulders.
That thought brought him back to the real world. He looked down at his bare hands, wondering if he dared to challenge the curse further. He could not risk innocent lives simply to prove a point. Crammond, Molly, even old Mrs. Grypes. If he touched them and they subsequently died, the guilt would be a raging forest fire within him that would consume him utterly.
The sudden, unexpected warmth of Ester's touch startled him from his reverie. She took his hands in her own, and pressed them against her breast, directly above her heart.
“I promise you, Julian. There is no curse.”
In answer, Julian captured her lips in a brief but fervent kiss, the taste of her lingering as he squeezed her hand. Then, with a quick glance around the corner, he flashed her a roguish grin. “Come on. Now or never,” he whispered, leading her down the steps toward the secluded door.
They slipped inside, the air turning cooler as they ascended a set of stone steps lined with a black, wrought-iron handrail. The passage opened into a cold, tiled corridor, several storerooms lining its length. Their footsteps echoed off the walls, blending with the hush of the castle around them.
“This corridor eventually descends to the cellars,” Julian explained in a hushed tone. “My wine cellar is down there, but Crammond has already brought up enough wine for seven dinners, and it is only he who ever ventures down...” He trailed off, his attention snapping to a sound rising from the darkened stone archway ahead.
Beyond, the arch stone steps descended into darkness. The unmistakable rustle of movement reached them, followed by the warm glow of an approaching lamp.
“Hide!” Julian reacted instantly, pulling Ester into the shadows, pressing her back against the cool stone, concealing her just beyond the arch.
Then, he descended the steps, making no attempts to hide.
At the bottom, the vaulted chambers stretched out before him, lined with racks of dusty wine bottles. The air was chill and dry, tinged with the scent of aged wood and cork. His eyes settled on the figure standing amidst the shadows—Kingsley's servant, Harper.
“Your Grace… you have returned,” Harper said, holding the lamp aloft, its light casting long shadows against the walls.
“I have, just,” Julian replied coolly, his gaze narrowing. “You have evidently been back for longer. Long enough to indulge in a perusal of my wine cellar. My man, Crammond, knows the contents of the cellar like the back of his hand. You could have simply asked and spared yourself the dust.”
“I have a fondness for the grape, and his lordship recommended your cellar,” Harper grinned childishly.
“Oh, he did, did he,” Julian murmured at the man’s audacity.
“Pardon, Your Grace?”
Smoothly, he donned his best smile. “Ah, might I ask, how did the search fare?”
“Regrettably, we found nothing,” Harper admitted with a grim set to his lips. “His lordship has ridden to the village to inform the magistrate, ensuring that the name of the miscreant is duly reported. He believes action will be taken more swiftly if the orders come from him personally.”
“And you are not accompanying him because?” Julian asked, one brow arching.
“Ah. I was instructed to return here to appraise Your Grace of the current status of our pursuit. I am confident the thief will be clapped in irons by nightfall,” Harper replied, tone filled with certainty. His eyes drifted downward, catching sight of Julian’s bare hands. Julian, noticing the glance, casually tucked them behind his back.
“Well, I have done so. I will take my leave, Your Grace. Maybe I will meet his lordship on the road.”
“Nonsense. You are fond of the grape!” Julian exclaimed, making every effort to keep the wryness from his tone. “Take your time and select any bottle you wish. I confess, my knowledge of wine is not what is expected from a gentleman. I grew up in a modest house where the ale was home-brewed and wine a rarity. Please.”
