He’d borrow Farring’s folly for now. As for Julia—he could only pray he would still be what she wanted when she saw for herself the true condition of his estate.
“Now may I go?” he asked.
James sniffed. “You are dismissed.”
“My liege.” He bowed his head and then headed for the corridor, seeking Julia.
His wife.
The time had come for reckoning.
In the distance, he heard her laugh—loud and heartfelt. The very opposite of the emotion she’d expressed when she’d hastened out of the bedchamber.
He’d missed something again, obviously.
In his defense, not many men could think clearly after being wrung dry by the person they adored…something he’d forgotten she didn’t have the experience to understand.
He headed toward the sound of her laughter.
But just because she was happy at the moment didn’t mean she’d remain so when he bared his heart. Everyone at Periwinkle Gate was happy—that was, after all, Mother Hatchard’s aim. And every one of the residents was equally responsible for each other’s happiness.
The place had always fascinated. Confounded, even. But he’d known them long enough—Theo in particular—to respect what he couldn’t always fully understand.
And, right now, he had need of Periwinkle’s magic.
If Farring had sat him down and saidtrust Julia, he would have scoffed. Instead, Farring had sent them here, a place where everyone stopped running.
He entered the orangery to find a tableau that would have shocked most of the toninto stillness. For Periwinkle Gate, it was just another Tuesday.
Julia conversed with a man in robes and a turban while absently stroking the wing of a bright blue bird. Mrs. Shillingham, the debutante housekeeper, rested her head on the shoulder of the Seven Dials fräulein. Had Theo and his wife been present, no doubt they’d have happily joined the quartet—in their usual position—Annette’s head resting in Theo’s lap.
But Julia probably would have recognized Theo’s resemblance to the other Maxwell-Hughes siblings. No doubt, she’d come to the correct conclusion. Lady Theodora, the eldest daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Shepthorpe, had disappeared long ago. Theodora was presumed dead, but Master Theo, formerly of the 88th Regiment, had come into his own and was very much alive.
At least he could leavethatexplanation for another time.
Then again—he watched Julia smile—Julia probablywouldn’task. She would—as usual—accept everyone as presented.
He’d called her foolish, reckless, and spoiled, which was, quite frankly, a mean-spirited translation of principled, persistent, and, simply, loved.
More loved than he’d ever been. Not that he’d been bitter early on. He hadn’t known what he’d been missing—not until all his substitutes for love had utterly failed.
Then, he’d been a mass of fetid contempt.
The only thing Julia had ever shown contempt for was hypocrisy and, more recently, him. Well—he swallowed—he’d have to change her mind.
He waited for her to notice him, but only the bird noted his presence.
“Danger,” Sir Tangle squawked.
He’d never liked that parrot.
“Oh!” Mrs. Shillingham sat straight and clapped. “How wonderful! James has outdone himself again.”
“Heisthe king,” said Fräulein Anna.
“Thank you, ladies,” Rayne replied.
Julia glanced over. Her smile quickly faded.
