Julia swallowed and reopened the letter to read it out loud.
Miss Comerford, please do not delude yourself that you will get away with your poor behavior. Your involvement with my grandson was bad enough and happily ended. If you know what’s best for you, you’ll disappear so that your existence will no longer be a bane on your family. If you don’t, you may find yourself sorry about it.
Caroline snatched the letter from her hand and read it herself. “That’s horrible! You were the victim of his grandson’s machinations and yet he threatens you?”
Julia was having trouble forcing breath into her lungs, but she tried to continue doing so. She had known the earl wascapable of seeking revenge, of attempting ruination, thanks to Alexander’s warnings. She’d hoped she’d have a little time before she had to make final moves to protect herself. But now it was in black and white, the threats of harm to her, and perhaps even a veiled threat toward her sisters, her aunt.
“Laurence must be returning to London soon if Heathfield’s launching this attack,” she whispered. “Perhaps Castleton will already be married to his new, much more acceptable bride. The one he used me to obtain against his grandfather’s wishes. Of course they must try to obliterate me. His broken engagement to me will be a blight on his new union.”
Caroline grasped her arm. “We must tell your sisters and their husbands about this. To close ranks to protect you.”
Julia shifted. Her aunt wasn’t wrong. Thanks to Alexander’s intervention, she was fully aware of just how far this all might go. But once she told the family, the reaction would be swift and fraught. It would remove, at least for a while, all the choices she still had left. She’d be protected like a glass ornament. There would be no more trysts with Alexander.
She blinked at that thought. That couldn’t be her only reason for waiting could it? Surely the man wasn’t so important, no matter how good he was in bed. And as a person. No, she also cared about the impact this news would have on her sisters, especially Evie. The reminder of what men of violence could threaten would upset them both.
“I don’t disagree, auntie. But—but let me wait.”
“Wait!” her aunt repeated in disbelief. “Whatever for?”
“Evie is so close to giving birth, I don’t want to upset her and perhaps cause damage. And you know what Arabella is like. She’ll work herself into a froth to protect me. Let me handle it myself for the moment.”
Her aunt pursed her lips. “I don’t like that, Julia.”
“Please trust me,” Julia said.
“I do trust you,” Caroline said. “Idon’ttrust a man like the Earl of Heathfield. He’s a nasty bully, he always has been.”
“I think that’s obvious.” Julia held up the letter and then sighed. “I promise you, Iwilltell them. Let me just see if I can get further information about this before I do.”
Her aunt didn’t look certain, but she nodded. “I trust you to make the right decisions for yourself.”
“Now, let’s talk about something else,” Julia said, putting the letter aside as she took her aunt’s teacup and went to refresh it.
They transitioned into a discussion about Evie’s impending birth and what might be the next fashion trend in waist height, but even as the topics between them became less fraught, Julia couldn’t help but think about Alexander again. She’d have to tell him about this letter and if his grandfather was on the hunt, it might also mean ending the connection between them.
Alexander entered his breakfast room and smiled as he found his mother there, plate before her, a paper in her hand. “Ah, it’s good to have you home, Mama,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead before he moved to load his own plate from the small selection on the sideboard. “Did you have a good time with your friends?”
“I did,” she said, folding the paper and putting it away. “I stayed with Mrs. Hicks first. Such fun staying up giggling like schoolgirls with one of my oldest friends. And then, of course, I moved on to Cousin Octavia.”
“Ah, how is she?”
His mother laughed. “Still alive, somehow. And quite sharp despite being nearly ninety, if you can believe it. But as soon as I received your letter that you were returned to London, I couldn’tconcentrate on my visit.” She took his hand as he sat down beside her. “You were not home when I returned home yesterday afternoon and then out very late.”
He arched a brow. “Are you checking up?”
“No, I simply noticed. Dearest, are you well?”
The question should have been answered with a polite affirmative, but in that moment with her kind gaze focused on him, Alexander felt the weight of the last few weeks press down and become impossible to bear alone.
“I’m not, Mama,” he admitted softly.
She pushed her plate aside and leaned closer, entirely focusing on him. “Tell me, then. What happened out in the country, why do you look so troubled?”
He let out a long sigh. “You obviously know about Laurence’s engagement—we discussed it before I went to the country.”
“Yes. It was the talk of Society. The woman was…she was Laurence’s mistress, wasn’t she? A very famous courtesan?”
“Yes,” he said, and ran a hand through her hair. “Julia Comerford, one of an infamous family of courtesans. She is far more than that, though, and undeserving of judgment.”
