St. Clara quickly checked to see if anyone was nearby. “They had a liaison before she married Windchester.” He shrugged as if the subject of an affair was nothing of import.
Julia stiffened uncomfortably at the direction their conversation was heading. “I only met the woman on two or three occasions, but I don’t think she would return here. She’d be a fool.”
“Unless she has a motive.” He took her by the hand, a movement that stunned her and left her momentarily speechless. “Promise me you will keep an eye out for anything peculiar and let Karrington know right away.”
“Of course, but why would we be in danger?” Julia couldn’t understand why the former countess would care about any of them.
“Windchester feels that she may blame the duchess for her fall from grace.” His shoulder slumped and the worry on his handsome face filled her with apprehension.
“That’s preposterous. It’s not as if Livie chose for the countess and Bromswell to tie her and Lady Evers up, leaving them for death!” Julia raised her voice, her anger growing.
The former countess had nearly cost her one of the few people she loved and trusted beyond anyone in the world. She wouldn’t have survived the two monumental events in her life without her.
“I know, but someone so unstable that they would attempt to kill two women and an innocent child cannot be relied upon for common sense.” He stood, took out his pocket watch, and checked the time. “Karrington thinks you are all in danger, so just be careful.” He awkwardly patted her shoulder in slow, unsure pats.
“Really, St. Clara, it’s as if you care?” she teased him.
“I do care, little bird. I should’ve cared for Amelia before she died. The least I can do is help keep her daughter safe.”
“I know you cared for your sister.” She gave him a sad smile, knowing that, like Henry, St. Clara had his own regrets when it came to Amelia.
His bowed head, downcast eyes, the slight tremble in his shoulders informed her of everything she needed to know.
He did care for his sister, Lady Evers.
“I allowed my need for my father’s approval to dictate my relationship with Amelia. I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.” He shook his head slightly as if to rid himself of the thoughts. “Now I must go talk to my godfather.”
She took hold of his hand before he could leave. “St. Clara, some of us are flawed and foolish creatures. Our only saving grace is that we can change if we want to.”
“Amelia is gone. What good could changing do now?” he asked in a defeated voice that did not belong to the man she knew.
“Yes, but Emily is still here,” she whispered the last portion, trying not to upset him. “To be honest, I wasn’t very kind to your sister. And now I try to make up for it every day by showing her daughter the kindness I should have shown her mother.”
“Thank you, bird.” He squeezed her hand, bent down, and placed his lips to her gloved hand.
Julia smiled softly at him, the confession of her intimacy with Henry on the tip of her tongue, but for some reason, she couldn’t admit it to anyone, not even herself.
The Season is filled with notorious affairs. What sort of wicked things are happening in the dark? Several ladies have expressed their deepest desires for the Marquess of H. Form a line ladies! I believe Lady J is at the front.
Henry stood in the quiet library fifteen minutes after two in the morning. She wasn’t going to show. He could feel the despair threatening to claw at his insides, but he would not allow it. Things had changed between them, he felt it in their kiss. In the garden, they were so hopelessly engulfed in each other again. It was as if no time had passed between them.
Although they were no longer the young lord and lady that met years ago, the passion they discovered in each other’s arms still simmered. He had wanted to claim her right there on the grass, surrounded by the wild roses with the stars as their witness.
He couldn’t stop his mother from spewing those hateful words at Julia. He wanted to save her from his mother’s contempt. She didn’t deserve it. He understood better than anyone what his father’s infidelity had done to his mother, especially when the beautiful white-blonde, green-eyed girl appeared in society, but it did not give his mother the right to be cruel.
It was a rare day in his childhood that his parents were seemingly happy. They had all gone to Bath on vacation to improve his father’s failing health when he was ten years of age. They had attended a picnic of one of his parents’ acquaintances. When he ran around with the other children, he came face to face with a young girl who looked nearly identical to himself. He thought it was rather odd that a girl favored him so greatly.
The whispers of that day haunted him. He could still see the horror on his parents’ faces when the Duchess of St. Clara introduced little Amelia to Henry’s father. A hush descended over the entire garden. Beside him, his mother had stiffened as if she was a statue in a museum. Poor little Amelia had no idea she had forever ruined two families. The Duke of St. Clara stood to the side and watched his wife present his daughter to the marquess. There was no denying that the girl greatly favored Henry and his father.
After introductions were made, the duchess escorted the girl away as if nothing untoward had happened. Enraged, Henry’s mother had marched out of the garden with her hand clasped firmly around Henry’s small arm. As she practically dragged him away, his father rushed behind them calling after her, but she ignored him. After that incident in Bath, everything changed for the Livingstone family.
The door to the library opened. Henry’s eyes snapped open to find Julia quietly slipping inside. She pressed the door closed and locked it behind her. Yet she froze when she saw him, like she was shocked to find him waiting for her.
Her beauty stole his breath away. She had always been breathtakingly beautiful. Her unbound hair fell down her back in large dark brown ringlets. He had often stared at her hair for what seemed like hours, trying to decipher the color. It was so rich, so luxurious, a stunning mixture of browns with a hint of blonde. It was a color solely her own.
Julia’s robe was open, revealing that she had been in a rush to get to him. A heat of satisfaction traveled down his spine and filled him with need.
Without thinking, Henry strolled over to stand in front of her. His eyes drank her in as if he were a dying man in a desert and she was his oasis. She was perfect and everything he needed in that moment.
