“I say, that’s hardly …” As Aragon spluttered, Julian placed Carenza’s gloved hand on his arm and walked into the shade of the trees. “Now, hold on a minute.”
Julian ignored him, and they continued on the path, Aragon sulking behind them. It was getting busier, and there was no room for them to walk three abreast. Julian acknowledged his acquaintances but didn’t stop to chat, his attention all on Carenza, who appeared her usual serene self. Aragon paused to speak to a horse-mad duke, and they continued on without him.
“Mr. Laurent.”
Julian stopped only because Lady Brenton was blocking the path, her expression determined. He bowed and recognized her companion at the last minute.
“My lady, Mr. Walcott, how delightful.” He wasn’t entirely happy to see his old mistress and his godmother’s grandson together, but there was little he could do about it. “Are you enjoying the sun?”
“It is very pleasant,” Lady Brenton said. She glanced up at Julian through her eyelashes. “We were just talking about you.”
“I’m impressed that I merited a moment of your time, my lady,” Julian said. “One might think you had far better things to gossip about.”
“Lady Brenton was expressing her sympathy as to the flagrant stealing of my inheritance,” Percival said. “She said she was not surprised at a certain person’s moral ambiguity, as she had experienced it herself.”
Julian met Percival’s gaze. “Be very careful what you say next, sir, because, as you already know to your cost, I am a strong believer in taking liars to court.”
“I mentioned no names, sir,” Percival said. “Perhaps it is your guilty conscience that makes you see an accusation when none is meant.”
“I think we all know exactly to whom you were referring, Mr. Walcott,” Carenza spoke up. “And I, for one, am more than willing to stand up in court and say so.”
Lady Brenton tittered. “I see that you’ve found yourself a new defender, Julian.”
Carenza raised her chin. “As far as I am aware, there has yet to be an occasion when Mr. Laurent has had to defend anything, ma’am, because the courts know his inheritance was completely legitimate. That ‘honor’ belongs to Mr. Walcott, who is prone to making accusations and he has lost every case.”
She inclined her head, and started walking again, her hand still on Julian’s arm. Lady Brenton had the sense to move to one side.
“Good morning,” Carenza said over the sound of Percival’s spluttering. She smiled. “I do hope you both have a splendid day.”
Julian waited until Lady Brenton and Percival were a good distance away before he spoke again. “You didn’t need to defend me.”
“Why not? You are my friend.”
“I am quite capable—”
“I’m well aware of that.” She stopped and looked up at him. “You always stand up for me. Why should I not do the same for you?”
He studied her indignant face. “This might sound ungrateful, but I’ve been attempting to distance myself from Percival’s accusations, and your defense of me in public might rile him up.”
“Oh dear.” Carenza bit her lip. “I didn’t think of that.”
He hastened to reassure her. “I doubt he’ll have the nerve to try the courts again, but seeing him today with Lady Brenton—someone who appears to sympathize with him and egg him on—wasn’t helpful.”
“Did I mention that they called on me?”
“Together?” Julian frowned.
“Yes, Olivia said she met them in the park and felt obliged to bring them with her when she called on me. But their appearance at my home felt more deliberate than that.” Carenza took a deep breath. “Olivia said Lady Brenton is your mistress.”
“Was.”
“Was what?”
“Lady Brentonwasmy mistress for a short and extremely volatile period before her irate husband tried to kill me.”
“I thought you never bedded happily married women?”
“She said she was a widow, and, as the esteemed Lord Brenton was never seen in society, I made the mistake of taking her at her word.”
