Today, she had tilted her head, her rosy lips curved in a smile. The entire day Julius had been unable to shake the thought of how much he’d wanted to kiss her.
Why the devil hadn’t he?
She was his wife, after all.
Would they taste as sweet as he remembered?
What was he waiting for?
“Your Grace,” Castlereagh repeated for the third time, his voice laced with amusement. “The proposal?”
He blinked, startled. “Ah yes.” He cleared his throat, heat washing up his neck. “The proposal. Of course.”
As wholesome as the walk was, the crisp air did little to cool the feverish heat that seemed to have taken over his entire being. He felt as if his blood had turned to honey mead, oozing hot and slow through his veins. As he reached the bustling Graben, where carriages and pedestrians crowded the wide street, he paused. Perhaps he ought to visit that hosiery shop again to pick up another pair of stockings. No, this time he ought to buy her something less ordinary.
A piece of jewellery perhaps. It occurred to him that other than the family heirlooms, he’d never given her any trinket. Something personally made for her. Something that reflected the colour of her eyes. They lit up when she smiled, like sparkles in a diamond.
He walked happily down the road ruminating on her eyes, when he was interrupted by a familiar voice calling from across the street.
Julius looked up and there she was, as if he had conjured her from his very thoughts.
She stood at the other side, waving. But not at him, no.
In front of him were the children gathered near the house.
An unexpected feeling of elation washed over him.
He had a family now.
Not only Catherine, but a son, and the otherchildren, too. A surprising warmth bloomed in his chest. He had to confess he’d miss them if they were ever to part now.
Lena called again, waving at the children as she began to cross the street.
Julius saw the coaches coming.
Two of them, barrelling down the street at a reckless speed. Lena, her focus entirely on the children, had not noticed them.
“Mama!” the children screamed.
“No!” It broke from him.
The scene unfolded in a blur of chaos. Shouts, screams, the shrill whinny of panicked horses. The deafening crunch of splintering wood as the two carriages collided, and there—caught between them—was Lena.
Julius was running before he even realised it, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached her in what felt like an eternity.
Her pale arm lay on the ground and her hair spread across the cobblestones—streaked with blood.
Chapter Thirty-Four
It was happening all over again.
A horrific accident.
His wife.
Limp and broken in his arms.
Dead.
