Lady Evelyn snorted. “As difficult as it must be for you to recall five years ago while you and Julian were at Harrington Manor.”
Cait was certain that she could live to be one hundred and those days would always be fresh memories. She could just hope that they no longer caused pain as well.
Chapter Sixteen
Julian paused at the entry into the breakfast room and glanced at the occupants while looking for Cait. He found her sitting at the far end of the table in deep conversation with Evelyn. This was not good. Evelyn had known Julian her entire life. She was much like a sister and knew stories from his youth that he would rather she not share with Cait. At least not until he won Cait back.
On opposite ends of the table were Keegan and Darton. They did not speak last night, nor did it appear they would speak today. The two had been close friends at one time, but Evelyn had come between them. Not that she had intended to, but she had, nonetheless.
Julian blew out a sigh and crossed to the sideboard. He had his own relationship to concern himself with. Cait was all that mattered and not the rest of the Devils of Dalston who needed to resolve where they had erred.
He wanted her back. He had to win Cait back. Five years had changed nothing, and she still lived in his heart.
“If it was not for a promised pension, which I need, I would have left this atrocity,” Raphael Clark, now heir to Marquess Claremont, grumbled as he joined Julian who was filling his plate from the breakfast selections.
“Atrocity is rather strong for a house party, is it not?” Julian asked with a half-smile.
“It is when I am the one cast as being in the wrong.”
“Were you not?”
Clark gaped at him. “I most certainly was not.”
“What was it that you were to have done?” Julian finally asked.
His eyes hardened. “I did nothing.”
Pickmore took a seat beside them. “Nor did I, or any of our friends.”
Julian blew out a sigh.
It did not matter. None of the reasons anyone else was here mattered.
“Oh good, you are all here,” his aunt announced as Julian took a seat at the table.
“She is your aunt. You must do something about her and her intrusive ways,” Pickmore argued quietly.
“Were it possible to do so, I would,” Julian returned.
“I have a bowl with slips of paper. Each gentleman will draw one and that is how you will spend the afternoon.”
She walked to Julian and stopped before him and held out the crystal bowl. He dipped his fingers within and pulled out a slip of parchment. His aunt then presented the bowl to Pickmore before walking the length of table and up the other side, stopping before each gentleman except Lennox.
“Meet in the drawing room for further instruction after you have broken your fast.”
Julian opened the piece of paper he had drawn. “Boating.” At least in the middle of the lake Cait could not walk away from him.
“Riding,” Pickmore said beside him. “This could be difficult.”
“You are an excellent horseman,” Julian reminded him.
“Yes, well Miss Bernadette only appreciates the backside of the horse that is pulling a carriage. She will not ride one.” He chuckled. “Oddly enough, she did not mind riding a camel.”
“Does she have an objection to water or boats?” Julian asked.
“Not that I am aware.”
“Trade me.” Julian held his slip of parchment out to his friend. “Cait would prefer to ride above all else.”
