“With our mother, who has expressly forbidden you from courting her?”
“It’s my house.” Aragon looked mulish. “I can invite who I damned well please.”
“I agree.” Julian nodded.
“With me?” Aragon’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a first.”
“You should invite both the Musgrove sisters,” Julian said. “And me.”
“Naturally. It’s still your home, brother, whatever Mother says.”
Julian met his brother’s gaze. “Thank you.”
“I’ll just inform the housekeeper, and she can tell Cook. Mother won’t need to know anything about it until the guests are arriving,” Aragon said happily.
“An excellent strategy,” Julian said.
“Do you really think so?” Aragon smiled at him. “I’ll send Lady Carenza a note, and as soon as I get her acceptance, I’ll arrange everything.”
“One thing before you go,” Julian said. “I’m thinking of organizing a small house party at my place in the country, and I wondered if you would like to come?”
“Me?” Aragon looked absurdly pleased. “You’ve never considered me worthy enough to grace your country retreat before.”
“Which was very remiss of me.” Julian paused. “Will you come?”
“Yes, please, but don’t tell Mother. She thinks you’re a bad influence on me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Julian assured his brother.
Aragon rose to his feet. “I must be off. I promised Cardew I’d visit a new gaming hell with him.”
“Please be careful,” Julian said.
“It’s not me you have to worry about, brother. I’m only going with Cardew to stop him from wasting his money.” He paused. “He’s an old friend of mine, and I do try to look out for him.”
“You’re a good man.” Julian looked up at his brother.
Aragon shrugged. “Least I can do. I’ve never enjoyed gambling. All those numbers make my head spin.” With a wink he departed, leaving Julian alone again with the realization that without his mother standing between them, he was beginning to like his older brother far more than he had anticipated.
“Good evening, Laurent.” Percival Walcott slid into the chair Aragon had just vacated.
“Walcott.” Julian sat back and waited to see what Percival wanted.
“Was that your brother you were speaking to?”
“Yes.”
“Last I heard, you two were estranged over your unexpected inheritance.” Percival paused. “It must have been as galling for him to be overlooked as it was for me.”
“Fortunately for me, he isn’t the kind of man to hold a grudge.”
“Yes, he’s remarkably easygoing, isn’t he?” Percival said with a sneer. “Not a lot of sense, but that hardly matters when he’s an earl.”
“Is it difficult?” Julian asked.
Percival looked flummoxed. “What?”
“Constantly carrying that chip on your shoulder. Does your tailor have to account for it when he makes your coats? It would certainly explain the lack of fit.” Julian stared at Percival. “Perhaps if you spent less time airing your grievances and more on bettering yourself, you’d be a happier man.”
