“Very good,” she managed to squeak out. “I’ll be right with him.”
The servant left and she looked in the mirror one last time. As she lightly pinched her cheeks, she caught a glimpse of Beatrice watching her from the bed. She sighed. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s only a man. He’s not mine. Once this is finished, I’ll never see him again. Stop being ridiculous.”
The cat yawned in response and Julia shook her head. Her words did nothing to help her feel better and she huffed out her breath at her image in the mirror before she hurried from the room to meet with him.
She took the short walk down and through the small house to the parlor. The door was open and through it she saw Alexander waiting by the fireplace, drink in hand. It was she who caught her breath.
Why did he have to be so damned handsome? Why did his hair have to fall just so and the angles of his jaw have to look so tempting along the edge of his cravat? Why did his arms have to look so strong even in all the layers of fabric that comprised his very proper evening clothes? And when he turned from the mantel and looked at her, standing like a ninny in the hallway, why did he have to have such kind brown eyes?
He swallowed hard as those same eyes moved up and down her frame and then he stepped toward her. “Julia.”
He breathed her name out in the quiet like it was a sigh of pleasure and her entire body clenched in response. Bloody hell.
She forced herself into the room and inclined her head. “Mr. Castleton. Thank you again for your assistance in this matter.”
A hint of displeasure rippled over his features when she called him by his proper name and not his given one. But he didn’t demand or question the action.
“I’m happy to be of some small service. We should likely head on our way, though. Danvers’ home is across London and with the busy streets, we might be waylaid. He’s a punctual person.”
With a nod, she motioned to the hallway and they walked together to the foyer where she said goodbye to Parsons. Alexander helped her into the carriage and she settled into the seat across from him. As they began to move, she smiled and tried to find her way back to the easy small talk that was as much a part of being a courtesan as sinful explorations had ever been.
“I think Mr. Danvers’ desire for punctuality may be a point we have in common.”
Alexander tilted his head. “Oh? I thought courtesans…and now that I think about it,ladies, were taught to enter a room fashionably late so that everyone might look at them.”
She pulled a face before she could stop the genuine reaction. “Oh, yes, we are. It’s all the rage, but do you know how difficult it is? More than half the people going to any event are trying to be seen and so everyone ends up late at the same time and no one wants to go into a room first. It’s exhausting. And if you’re planning an event? It’s bloody frustrating because you say to come at seven so that perhaps,ifyou’re lucky, everyone will be there by nine.”
“I’ve never planned an event, I admit, beyond a supper here and there with friends, but I can see how that would be draining,” he said, and his lips were twitching with a smile.
“It is,” she agreed. “I suppose that if I am drummed from the public eye as you claim your grandfather and Laurence wish, then that will be one thing I can look forward to. I can retreat to what would be my normal behavior, which would be to be punctual out of respect to the time of my hosts and myself.”
She heard herself, how animated she had become over the topic and heat filled her cheeks. “Forgive me, I’m talking too much about a very silly topic. I don’t mean to be ridiculous.”
His smile faltered a little and he shook his head. “Why would that bother me? I like that there are topics which inspire you to come out of the shell you create around yourself for public consumption and allow me to see…you. Whether that’s your affection for your sisters or a very small, and I thinkfair, tirade on punctuality, that fire is very attractive. It only makes you human.”
She bent her head because when they were so close in the carriage and he said something like that, something that was about her, herrealself, the one she’d been hiding from men for years now…it stirred something in her. And it wasn’t just desire. It did do that, how could anyone sit across from this man and not want him? But it also inspired a feeling of closeness.
“Thank you, Mr. Castleton,” she said softly.
They were quiet for a few moments and then he cleared his throat. “In the spirit of honesty and authenticity, I would like to say that I preferred it when you called me Alexander.”
“I’m sure you did.” She shifted in her seat, ready for the demands to come now. For the mask to slip.
Instead, he looked out the carriage window into the dimly lit street they were bobbing along at a slow pace. “I realize I don’t deserve that intimacy, nor any others.”
She tried not to let her treacherous mind slip to those other intimacies. She failed and was glad he wasn’t looking at her now. He was too clever not see.
“But…I-I don’t like my last name. I actually never have,” he continued.
That pushed the sensual feelings aside and she leaned closer. “No? The family name is respected, though. It labels you as part of a titled lineage and that matters in your world. In mine, too, I suppose.”
“Yes, it matters. And yes, it’s most definitely afforded me benefits, I cannot be so obtuse as to pretend it hasn’t.” He shookhis head. “But sometimes I wish I could be divorced from it. I suppose I will be after telling my grandfather I wouldn’t help him. That will likely end things between us, at least on any significant level.”
“I suppose you could change your name,” she said, and had to physically force herself not to reach across the carriage and cover his hand with hers in comfort.
“Don’t think I haven’t considered it. It’s not an inexpensive or easy process, and my grandfather would make it more so.”
She tilted her head, for she hadn’t thought he’d actually accept that suggestion. “You are so quick to reject your family,” she breathed.
