His son. He’d looked down at the child, seen his tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth as he rolled up the string, his hair dishevelled, so much like him, and he’d felt, for the first time, a painful squeezing in the region of his heart and an inexplicable desire to see that light in the child’s eyes again.
For the first time in his existence, Julius, Duke of Aldingbourne, wanted to be a father. Not just any father, but a good one. He’d wanted to be the father he himself never had.
And this realisation shook him to the core.
He was feeling altogether too much, he decided, as the carriage drew up in front of the Arenheim home.
He wasn’t sure how to take that.
As Lena steppedinto the hall to greet him, his heartbeat increased.
She wore a pale green muslin gown, and her hair wastied back in a loose chignon, with strands of soft hair escaping from it. He watched her lips, and indeed, she pursed them to blow away the strands of hair, as she always did.
He swallowed.
She gave him a strained smile.
“I was in town.” It was an obvious thing to say, but all his diplomatic eloquence had left him, and for the life of him, he couldn’t come up with anything better. “I brought you this.” He handed over the box.
She cocked her head inquisitively, then her eyes widened. “Never say. Stockings?”
He cleared his throat. “I thought they were needed.”
She opened the box and stared at the contents. “And there is a pink pair, too…” she murmured more to herself. When she looked up, her eyes were bright.
He looked away. Was she crying? Dash it.
“It’s merely stockings,” he said gruffly. “Nothing special.”
“They must have cost a fortune. I thought we agreed—” She interrupted herself, gave a quick shake of her head as if she’d changed her mind about what she was going to say, then merely whispered, “Thank you.”
“The yellow pair is for Mona.”
“She’ll love them.”
Why was she standing there, staring at him with that odd look in her eyes? He couldn’t quite interpret it. It felt as though she was assessing, judging him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Thank you, Julius. This was very thoughtful of you.”Every time she said his name, a flush of pleasure ran through him.
He gave a curt, embarrassed nod.
“There’s a visitor in the drawing room,” she continued. “Waiting for you.”
“Not Metternich again?”
She shook her head. “Come and see.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The golden-haired Adoniswhom she’d met at the ball had arrived without warning and made himself at home in her drawing room. The children were out, as was the Duke, and Lena, still reeling from her newfound memories, was at a loss as to what to do with him.
He’d thrown his stick on the sofa, peeled off his gloves, tugged at his neckcloth, and collapsed into the armchair in front of the fireplace with a groan. She frowned as their eyes met.
“Join me, Catherine,” he’d begged. “Regardless of whether you remember me or not. I am in need of a friend. I am at my wits’ end. What am I to do?” He buried his head in his hands.
“First of all, coffee.” She’d brought in a tray and handed him a cup. “Now, tell me everything.”
And he had.
