“Are you a virgin, Gussie?” she asked.
“Jule!”He blushed furiously. “Only you would even dream of asking a man something so—so absolutely outrageous.”
‘‘Well, are you?” she asked
“Of course I’m not,” he said “Good Lord, Jule, where did you grow up? In the gutter?”
“You are,” she said calmly. “I thought you were. You’re afraid to kiss me.”
“I’m not afraid—”
“You are blustering,” she said. “Actually it is not so much fear, is it, as embarrassment. I feel the same way. Ican’t quite think of you as a man, Gussie. Not in that way.And I am not being insulting. It is just that you are morelike a brother. The thought of kissing you quite puts me tothe blush. Why did you want to marry me?”
“Because I’m fond of you, Jule,” he said.
She sighed. “Everybody and his dog is fond of me,” she said. “Except Daniel. But why in particular? PrimrosePark?”
“I was thinking of you, Jule,” he said. “You need someone to look after you. I couldn’t do it without Primrose Park. We would have to live with Mama and Papa and Iwould hate that. But it was mainly you. Because I am fondof you and because I can’t see you being happy with any ofthe others.”
“Oh, Gussie,” she said on a sigh, “how kind you are. Oh, yes, you are. I believe you about your motive. And untilnow I really thought that you would probably be my bestbet. But it wouldn’t work, would it?”
“We could make it work, Jule,” he said. “We could be content to be friends for a while. And as for the other...”
“The other is an essential part of marriage,” she said.“Not just for children, Gussie, but for—oh, for completeness of life. For emotional satisfaction. I want the other.But I should die of embarrassment with you. As you wouldwith me. We cannot even face the thought of kissing eachother. How could we think of—well,youknow. It wouldseem a little like incest, wouldn’t it?”
He stared at her for a while. “It would rather,” he said eventually.
She smiled a little sadly. “I think we had better settle for being pals for the rest of our lives, Gussie,” she said. “Is itnot a pity? It would be fun to live together at PrimrosePark, wouldn’t it? To belong there. Just you and me. Butwe are not children any longer. And that other part of marriage is important to me.”
“Lord,” he said. “Don’t marry Freddie, Jule. No decent mama and papa will allow him within five miles of theirdaughters in London, you know. I don’t know anyone witha worse reputation.”
“But I like him,” she said.
“Of course,” he said. “He’s Freddie and we have known him all our lives. But your life would be hell as his wife,Jule. You would be better off marrying me.”
“We had better go down,” she said, “before Daniel has a head-of-the-family anxiety attack thinking we have thrownourselves off the battlements. I wish he had not come,Gussie. The last several summers have been bliss withouthim, haven’t they?”
“He is a decent sort, Jule,” he said. “At least he can always be counted upon to do what is right and honorable. A woman could look for worse in a husband.”
Julia pulled a face. “I hope you are not suggesting what I think you are suggesting,” she said. “Ugh!”
He grinned suddenly and looked like the old Gussie again. “Actually,” he said, “I wasn’t. He might be a goodcatch for you, Jule, but I would have to say you might be adisastrous catch for him.”
“Oh!” She aimed a punch at his disappearing back and scurried after him along the battlements. The others werestill down in the courtyard, most of them sitting on thegrass. “I owe you for that one, Gussie. I’ll get you for it,you may be certain sure.”
Augustus only laughed and raised his hand to wave to their cousins down below.
He should have stayed down by the river, the Earl of Beaconswood thought. If he had not got up to answerJulia’s challenge, probably no one else would have done soexcept Gussie and perhaps Freddie. And Les, of course, ifFreddie had. But everyone else would have stayed. And shewould have come to no harm with Gussie. Or with the others, either. There was always safety in numbers.
But no, he had had to follow her as he always had. There had always been Julia at Primrose Park, from his early boyhood on. Always madcap Julia and his strong disapprovalof her and his equally strong need to be there just in caseshe went too far one day and got herself into real danger.He could not explain that latter need. He never had beenable to do so. It had only ever brought him anger and frustration. And contempt from her.
Freddie was stretched out on the grass, basking in the sun, one arm thrown over his eyes. Viola and Stella sat beside him, talking. Les and Susan had strolled over to whereone low wall would give them a view out over the countryside on the opposite side from the river. No one else waspacing, worrying that she would lean against the parapetand it would give way from the weight of her body andplunge her to her death. No one else kept glancing at thedoorway into the tower after she and Gussie had been seento be making their way back down, worried that she wouldmiss her footing on the stairs and come plummeting downto her death.
Everyone else was fond of Julia and not one whit worried about her, he thought, clamping his teeth together. He hated the woman and could cheerfully shake the living daylights out of her for putting him through this anxiety—again. As she had always done. Always. If there had everbeen a tree in Julia’s path, it had been made to be climbed.Or a lake, it had been made to be swum. Or a horse, it hadbeen made to be galloped at a neck or nothing pace. Or adare, it had been made to be taken.
But she was not a child any longer. Or even a girl. Goddammit, she was a woman. A lady. The earl stopped himself when he realized that he was beginning to grind his teeth, and strode over to the tower. They were taking altogether too long to get down.
He heard her giggles long before he rounded the bend in the staircase that brought him in sight of them. It was a nervous giggle, he realized then. Three of the stairs were littlemore than rubble, the light from a slit arrow window slanting across them. Julia was on the stair above the rubble.Gussie was on the stair below it, trying to coax her down.
