Cait did as they asked, though she glanced longingly at the doors that led to the garden. She was certain the path led to the stables where she could borrow a horse and escape this house party.
Bernadette gasped and grasped Cait’s hand.
She turned to see what had upset her friend only to find six of the Devils of Dalston standing beside their hostess, including Julian.
Her heart thudded heavily against her breast. It may have been five years, but he was just as handsome as before. More so even.
“Maybe the Home Office has decided to hire women,” Bernadette whispered, then giggled at the absurdity.
Cait would have laughed if she wasn’t so shaken to see Julian.
Chapter Thirteen
As Julian strode through the entry of his aunt’s drawing room, decorated in white and pale blue, and usually filled with the fragrances of the flowers cut from the gardens just beyond the glass doors, he prepared to be overwhelmed with the scent of roses or whatever was in bloom in June. Instead, he was brought up short by a room full of guests.
His friends, the other Devils of Dalston paused beside him.
This was not a normal gathering.
The furniture, usually arranged for conversation in front of the fireplace and beside the tall windows, was gone. Instead, there were two rows of chairs. In one row, five women were seated. The remaining six chairs were empty. At the end, the sisters Tilson were seated behind a library table. Beside the table was a single, cushioned chair.
“Aunt Agatha?” he questioned.
She may be a bit eccentric, but Julian had a fear that she may be attempting to bring back the inquisition. Though his aunt didn’t have a dungeon, at least not that he knew of, he feared what was to come might be just as painful if he did not put a stop to whatever nonsense she and her friends had gotten into their heads.
“You all know my nephew, the Earl of Shorewood,” his aunt announced as she sat “Now take a seat Julian.”
“All of you, take a seat,” Lady Priscilla ordered.
Julian and his friends took their seats. Tension hung in the air pressing down on them.
His eyes finally strayed to the women lined up across from them and he nearly sucked in a breath to note that one of them was Cait.
“Some of you acted out of honor. Some of you acted out of loyalty. Some of you put King and Country before your heart. Some of you also let pride, revenge and friendship get in the way.” Aunt Agatha glanced from one end of the row of gentlemen to the other. “But all of you broke a heart and turned your back on love. Whatever your reason, or what you believed your reasons to be, you are all fools.”
There were gasps from the women's row.
“Each of you have had the opportunity to rectify your mistake. Yet none of you have taken it. That is why you are here.”
Perhaps she spoke the truth, but Julian had not been free until six months ago. Given five years had passed since he last saw Cait, he assumed she had found someone else, married and was happy. Of course, had he visited Harrington Manor, he would have known the truth. But that was also assuming she was still a teacher. The reason he hadn’t returned to that area was because Julian knew that he would not have been able to stay away from Cait, which was unfair to her.
He also never asked his friends, especially Kilsyth, what had become of her because he didn’t want to endure the pain of knowing that she was happy without him.
Yet she was here, sitting across from him. Did he even have a chance to win her again? Or had they both changed so much that they no longer suited?
One thing that he did know was that the small part of his heart that had not been frozen began to swell and beat fiercely the moment he looked upon her face.
Cait was still beautiful with her golden hair, full coral lips, and a delightful sprinkling of delicate freckles across her nose. She also still held the ability to make his pulse race, even after not seeing her for five years.
Julian tore his eyes from her nearly emerald ones and looked at the group. He smiled and nodded to each young lady. Beside Cait sat Miss Bernadette Hamilton and he shot a glance at Pickmore. Julian never learned what became of the two, or why what appeared to be a courtship ended. It was something Pickmore never spoke of, and Julian never asked. Perhaps now he would learn.
Aunt Agatha banged a gavel against the top of the table and nearly everyone jumped.
Where did she get a gavel?
“The Court of Love can now begin.”
The women grew pale, and the gentlemen began to fidget in their seats.
