They couldn’t be serious? How was she going to stay in the same home with the man she detested more than anything or anyone else?
“How long are they staying?” Julia crossed her arms, peering at the besotted couple. She rolled her eyes at her cousin, who blushed when the duke kissed her hand. Heavens above, she needed to get them out of her room.
“I’m not sure, but if it is too much for you, perhaps you could go stay with your aunt and uncle for a while.” Remington wrapped his free hand around Livie’s waist and pulled her closer to him.
“I won’t leave my home. I live here Remington!” Julia seethed, stamping her foot. “He’s the intruder.” She flung her arms wildly, not believing the nerve of her cousin’s husband.
Why would she leave? Henry was the one that should go, he had the audacity to show his face after all these years.
“Don’t forget, you’re New Julia,” Livie reminded her gently, one of her fingers absently playing with the buttons of her husband’s shirt.
Julia had forgotten herself for a moment. Livie was right. New Julia wouldn’t have a tantrum. “Forgive me, you’re right of course.” Her gaze went to Remington, who was giving her a rather bored look. “I will not leave. I have not lived with Aunt and Uncle in two years. Besides, you and the children would miss me.” She paused, her eyes narrowing at her cousin.
“Yes, we would miss you immensely. Who would walk with me, pick ribbons with Emily, draw with Teddy, and tickle Freddy?” Livie listed each task as if it was the most important thing in the world.
To Julia they were, especially tickling Frederick’s little feet.
“Are you forcing me to leave?” She placed a hand on her hip, feelings of indignation coursing through.
How dare he?
Remington shook his head. “Of course not. This is your home for as long as you want it to be. I just thought you would be more comfortable staying with the Hempsteads while Heartford stays here.”
Julia smoothed out her skirts, streaking them with charcoal. “I thank you for your concern, but surely we can withstand each other’s company for a day.” She plastered on a forced smile, one day wouldn’t kill her.
Remington cleared his throat, looking from Julia to Livie. “Yes, well it may be a little longer than that.” He pulled his wife out of the room before Julia could question him about his last comment.
Livie’s giggles followed them out of the room and down the hall. Julia stared at the door, her mind trying to comprehend exactly what he meant. Longer than a day? He planned to have the man who ruined her stay in the same house as her for how long exactly?
Goodness, she couldn’t be under the same roof as him. She should leave. She should pack up her things and allow him to stay. But why should she leave when he showed up uninvited? No, she wouldn’t allow him to chase her away from her family. He was the one who needed to leave, not her. She was done allowing him control over her life, her choices, her decisions.
She would stay and make him regret that he ever returned to London.
Henry couldn’t sleep. In addition to his usual apprehension during the night, he found himself plagued with worry over his lost fortune and Julia. He walked through the quiet house, intent on borrowing a book from Karrington’s vast library and having a drink to soothe his tormented nerves. He was wound tight, his body feeling like he would explode at any moment.
Seeing the absolute loathing in Julia’s blue gaze was unexpected, he knew that she would be upset but he never expected to see that look on her face directed at him. In the past, she had lit up like a falling star whenever he was around. Her cheeks would bloom in color and her eyes would sparkle with the depth of their secrets. Their love was innocent, wild, and full of white-hot passion, but it had not been enough.
It couldn’t withstand the pain and loss of a sister. It couldn’t last through the guilt of failure.
Perhaps he should’ve known her character and disposition better, but after the fire, when his grief was fresh, they had exchanged words that propelled his decision to leave London. The fool of a constable had informed Henry that they needed more proof before they apprehended his sister’s murderers.
The utter feeling of hopelessness from not being able to save Amelia had consumed him. His body had ached all over, his hands were freshly wounded and bruised. It had taken him years to realize that Amelia dying was not his fault, yet he still did not return to London.
Until now.
Henry walked into the library, a loud gasp had him looking up into the angelic face of Lady Julia.
Julia stood in front of the large window, a sketchpad in her hand. She looked like she was sent from heaven as the moonlight casted an angelic glow over her. She was wearing nothing but a night rail that left little to the imagination. Her long hair flowed down her back in silky waves.
He had never seen her without clothes or an elaborate hairstyle. Seeing her like this made him instantly regret his decision to leave. If only he would’ve stayed, this version of her would’ve greeted him every morning and night. But she, of course, would be smiling and not glaring at him.
Her features instantly hardened when she realized it was he who had disturbed her peace. “What are you doing in here?” Her cold voice slammed across his flesh.
Julia quickly put on her dressing robe that laid discarded on a chair, covering up as Henry stared at her.
“I came for a book and a drink. Would you care for one?” He walked deeper into the room.
This was his opportunity to admit why he was back in London. He needed her to know that he was now worthy of her. That after years of wandering the world, he began to feel whole again, but he was not complete, not yet.
