“Yet it seems this aunt of yours provided you with shelter and comfort during a difficult time.”
Her brow furrowed slightly as she regarded him. “Yes, it seems she did.”
He couldn’t help but ask. “Which, with respect, leads me to wonder why you cannot recall the whereabouts of her house.”
“That is because my aunt also passed, and not long after Mama, so I was still a child. My father does not like to revisit the events of that time, so we have never spoken of it at any length. Actually, till today, I have not thought about it for many years.” She slowed her step and glanced over her shoulder. “Do you happen to remember where it was, Hattie?”
“I remember you being sent away, of course,” the woman replied, “but I was otherwise preoccupied with caring for your poor mama. True, ’twas a dreadful time. Hardly surprising your father does not care to visit the memories of it.”
Julian frowned at what he perceived to be a hint of evasiveness in the maid’s response. Perhaps he imagined it. Miss Fairfax, meanwhile, dropped her gaze to the pavement, effectively hiding her face beneath the brim of her bonnet. “Even so,” she said, quietly, “I believe I shall ask him about it upon my return home today.”
She fell silent and Julian sensed her continued chagrin, as if she’d somehow misspoken by voicing her innermost thoughts and memories. In an effort to ease her discomfort, he decided to do the very thingthat had led to hers, and take a slight step beyond the formal boundaries to share some insight into his life.
He regarded her. Or rather, the top of her bonneted head.
“How are you feeling now, Miss Fairfax?” he asked, hoping she would look at him again. She did, her fingers tightening in the crook of his arm as he gazed into those pretty eyes once more.
“Much better, Mr. Northcott, thank you,” she replied.
“Good.” Julian focused on committing the vision of her face to memory. “You’re certainly not as pale as you were, I must say.”
“Which is likely due to a persistent sense of embarrassment,” she replied, with a wry smile. “But I feel quite well, otherwise.”
“Your embarrassment is not warranted. Not at all.” He dared to probe again. “If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any siblings?”
“Regrettably, I do not,” she replied. “Do you?”
Julian nodded. “Five of them. Three sisters and two brothers, all younger than I, and not one of them beyond embarrassing me.” He chuckled. “Or each other, come to that, though it is perhaps unfair to include my youngest brother in my accusation. Arthur is the quiet one. Then again, there are those who say, ‘beware the quiet ones’.”
“Five! How splendid.” Miss Fairfax’s curls danced as she shook her head. “I should imagine you have many tales to tell.”
Julian grimaced. “One or two, perhaps.”
She gave a soft laugh, followed by a wistful expression, there and gone. Then, “Your parents are still living?”
He nodded again. “They are, and both in good health, thank God.”
“You are fortunate, sir.” A sigh escaped her. “My father is quite ill, I’m afraid. Has been for some time.”
The response raised more questions, though Julian resisted the temptation to ask what ailed the fellow. If the tone of Miss Fairfax’s voice was any indication, however, the ailment sounded serious. He couldn’t help but wonder what would become of her if and when her father died. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied. “It must be difficult for you.”
“More so for him.” She gave a brief, cheerless smile. “He insisted I go out today to lift my spirits.Myspirits, if you please! Yet he is the one suffering.”
“I’m sure seeing him suffer cannot be easy for you, Miss Fairfax, and I’m equally sure he understands.”
“No doubt. I’m fully aware of his motives and I’ll be sure to tell him the outing was very pleasant.” They turned onto her street, and her fingers, tucked into the crook of Julian’s elbow, tightened a little. “Which it has been.”
Julian gave the street sign a quick glance, which indicated more than Annabelle Fairfax’s address. It also indicated that his time with her was almost at an end.
Three more minutes. Maybe four.
“Which number?” he asked, eyeing the row of elegant townhouses.
“Twenty-nine,” she replied, gesturing. “The second house in from the far end, on this side.”
Maybe five.
“Right,” he muttered, falling silent as several different scenarios played out in his mind.
