Tomorrow he would tell his friends and send a letter to Mr. Murdock. As much as he knew that he should return home, Julian wasn’t in such a hurry. Besides, the physician was adamant that Julian should not travel until the occasional dizziness and headaches from his head injury were gone.
He and his friends had been in a carriage accident nearly a month ago, and frankly, they were lucky to be alive. Unfortunately, nobody could tell him when his symptoms would finally go away.
“Bloody Hell! I am Viscount Rivers and will one day be the Earl of Shorewood.” A title that should have never been his. A title Julian had never wanted.
Julian folded the missive and placed it into an inside pocket.
Instead of returning to Harrington Manor, he turned away and strolled along the beach, glad to be alone with the only sounds disturbing the silence the cries of seagulls, seals, and the crash of waves. He needed more time to gather his thoughts and contemplate his future.
He had responsibilities now. An estate, as well as tenants and servants.
Of course, he had had responsibilities before. But few knew what they were. As far as Society was concerned, Julian was a rogue living off his quarterlies, without one redeeming quality. Not that he cared what Society thought. His biggest concern was that he may need to step away from the Devils of Dalston and resign from his position with the Alien Office, which was attached to the Home Office. No more befriending, drinking, gambling, and flirting with French émigrés and sympathizers to gather information, or coming to know those who may have their own revolutionary ideas for England.
Julian nearly snorted when he recalled how he and his friends became known as the Devils of Dalston. He and his fellow Devils all worked for the Home Office in one capacity or another and had taken a house on Dalston Street simply because they had not wanted Society to question or even notice why the ten of them gathered so often to share information. Further, the servants in the house on Dalston were trusted by the Home Office.
They had thought they’d go unnoticed in such a nondescript location.
Except, someone had, and it became a curiosity. Therefore, and given their reputations among Society, they exaggerated and fabricated rumors that it was a very exclusive and private club, closed to new members. A club where gentlemen supposedly indulged in all manners of debauchery such as orgies, the occult, an opium den, disorderly drunkenness, and gambling. Those were just a few whispers Julian had heard, though none ever proven. As a result, any gentleman associated with the house became known as one of the Devils of Dalston.
He would miss being a Devil. Once he was well enough to travel, which could still be a fortnight away, Julian would return to Norfolk, where the family seat, Ashford Place, stood majestically overlooking The Wash. He’d spent many hours along the shores of the large cove fed by the North Sea. A setting not much different from this, with a beach at the edge of the estate.
He and his brother, who was only two years older, had spent much of their youth at the water’s edge. They liked each other as children, but distance had grown once Grayson went off to Eton. It became worse once Julian also became a student. When they became adults, it was Julian who played the rogue, but Grayson truly was one. Worse than a rogue—spoiler of innocents, fighter of duels, arrogant and full of self-worth. As a wealthy heir, Grayson believed that he could do no wrong and Society would always bow to him because father carried so much power.
Staring out at the waves, a loss and longing like Julian had never experienced washed over him. His brother had been lost to him long before he died. Father had practically ignored Julian when he returned home on holiday and spent hours with his favored son, grooming him to be Shorewood one day. Julian had been born to be nothing but the spare.
He turned to go back the way he had come and noted movement further up on the beach and smiled. Seals were sunning themselves on the rocks. Such an innocent activity and Julian envied the creatures because all they needed to do was swim, eat fish and sun themselves. A simple, easy life, unlike the one he faced.
Julian paused and stared harder. Was that Miss Caitlin Doyle sitting amongst the seals? Was that even safe?
Chapter Two
“Do have a care, Miss Doyle. I hear the seals can be quite dangerous.”
Cait jumped at the rich timbre of a voice and turned to find the one gentleman she’d been thinking about.
“They would never harm me, Mr. Ashford,” Cait assured him.
He quirked a dark brow. “Is that so? How can you be so certain?”
“They are gentle creatures.” She rose from her seat and walked away from the seals.
“The housekeeper mentioned one had attacked a servant not long ago.”
“They must have been threatening in some manner,” Cait insisted. She’d heard about the servant being bitten and it was likely because they came too close during mating season, when seals can be a bit more aggressive. Not that she’d mention the possibility to Mr. Ashford, as it was not a topic an innocent miss should ever mention to a gentleman.
He looked around. “Is this where you disappeared to? You left the wedding celebration over an hour ago.”
Cait was surprised that anyone had missed her, especially Mr. Ashford.
“That is, I saw you leave with your sister. She returned, you did not.”
“Have you been watching my comings and goings, Mr. Ashford,” she teased when in her heart of hearts, she really hoped it was so.
He cleared his throat, and a slight color came to his cheeks. “I am an observant man,” he finally said.
Observant enough to know that she’d left. Cait didn’t want to read too much into his admission but couldn’t help herself. “What brings you to the beach?” Could he have been looking for her?
“I needed to be away from so many gathered in one place, I suppose.” He glanced away, not looking her in the eye, as if there was another reason. As much as she hoped that he’d come looking for her, Cait sensed it was something else entirely.
