“Aunt Livie, is that you?” a small voice called.
“Papa, are you back?” another voice called out, before two small people walked into the parlor holding hands.
“What are you two doing out of bed? Where is Miss Lucy?” Dayton rushed toward the children. “Happy, Sunny, out this instant! Out!” The two tiny dogs ran out of the parlor barking madly.
Henry couldn’t believe his eyes. His niece was standing in front of him with his godson, the both of them in sleep clothes and bare feet. They should probably be in bed, but at that moment, Henry had never been so happy to see two people in his life. They were simply magnificent.
“Emmy, who they?” Theodore whispered to his cousin.
Henry suppressed a smile at the boy’s inability to form a complete sentence. His blond curls teased blue eyes identical to his father’s. Beside him, Emily blinked rapidly at Henry and Elijah.
“I don’t know, Teddy, but one has really pretty skin.” Emily’s tiny voice was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.
“Dayton, why aren’t you at the door?” Karrington’s deep voice carried into the parlor.
“Coming, Your Grace!” Dayton rushed out of the parlor with the speed of a man twenty years younger. “I do apologize. You have guests and the children have snuck out of bed, again.”
“Papa, you back!” Teddy turned and ran, leaping into his father’s arms as Karrington appeared in the doorway of the parlor.
He caught the boy and lifted him up, jostling him slightly before enveloping him in a hug. “What are you two doing out of bed?”
Henry was astonished by the sight of his friend wearing his finest attire while playfully lifting his son.
“Aunt Livie! I miss you,” Emily ran past Karrington and into the hallway.
“I missed you too, my darling.” The duchess’ sweet voice flowed into the parlor.
“And I guess no one missed me?” A sultry voice Henry would’ve recognized in the darkest of places floated to him. The sound pierced him straight through to his long-lost soul.
His body responded automatically It had been three years, yet the simple sound of her voice took him back to happier times. While they had not parted amicably, he hoped for a second chance with her. This is why he had come home. He would prove to her that he was worthy.
Karrington blinked slowly with disbelief. “Heartford? Dear God, you’ve returned!” He rushed over and wrapped his free arm around his friend. The little boy clung to his father’s neck and giggled at the sudden movement.
The hug was both different and exactly what Henry needed. He hadn’t seen his friend, no, his brother, in what felt like a lifetime.
“Since when do you embrace men?” Heartford couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the very un-Karrington-like behavior.
“Since there were times I wondered if you were dead or alive,” Karrington replied with a hint of strain in his voice, as if he had worried about Henry daily.
“Your Grace, what is going on?” The duchess entered and glanced from Elijah, to Henry, to her husband and son. Emily was in her arms twirling a loose strand of dark blonde hair.
“Good evening, Your Grace.” Henry stood to bow at the flustered duchess. She was more beautiful than he recalled, older and wiser. The years had been kind to her. Her welcoming smile made Henry feel immediately loved and accepted.
“Lord Heartford, w-what a pleasant surprise,” the duchess said while frantically turning to look behind her.
He could see the worry on her pretty face. She held his niece tightly in her arms, her eyes following the movement of the person behind her. The woman in question came into the parlor with a contented smile on her sensuous lips. His gaze fastened on Lady Julia St. John, drawn to her like a dying man in a desert, even after all these years.
She was splendid, even more so than his memory allowed. Her skin was pale and smooth. If he dared to close his eyes, he could feel the softness of her cheek against his lips.
The moment she saw him, her entire demeanor changed. She stood motionless, her crystal blue eyes wide and unblinking. A thousand emotions took over her lovely face in a span of seconds—astonishment, dread, and then, hatred.
Pure unadulterated loathing.
The lips from which he had adored stealing kisses thinned into a hard line. The eyes that had always sparkled at the sight of him penetrated him like tiny needles cutting through his skin. The rise and fall of her bosom matched his own uneven breathing.
He had seen her angry before, but this, this was something different. She wanted to kill someone, not someone—him. She wanted to end him.
He hadn’t thought he’d see her so soon, but here she was in a lovely gown that hugged her petite figure. Her fingers gripped at her skirts as if it was an anchor holding her in place. One slippered foot anxiously tapped the floor. The world ceased spinning for a moment before her gaze wrenched away from his, leaving him empty.
