“I’d be happier if you hadn’t used your charm to extract a fortune from my aunt.”
Julian was in no mood to tolerate Percival’s endless parade of accusations. He rose to his feet. “Was there something in particular you wanted to speak to me about?”
“Yes. Calloway’s been gossiping about you and the mysterious lady who placed the advertisement.”
“I never listen to gossip.”
“But surely you’d like the opportunity to clear the air?” Percival asked.
“With you?” Julian raised an eyebrow. “Hardly.”
“I was trying to give you a friendly warning that your name might be dragged through the press, but, as usual, you are too proud to take the hint.” Percival took a hasty step back as Julian strolled past him, not bothering to answer.
Julian went into the entrance hall and asked for his hat and cloak. He’d rather his name was in the newspapers than Carenza’s, and that was all there was to it. Percival could whine as much as he wanted, as long as Carenza’s reputation remained unsullied.
Still, he didn’t like the association between Calloway and Percival one bit. They both disliked him and would love to see him fall from society’s graces. The worst thing was there was very little he could do until they showed their hands more openly. Why Percival couldn’t let the matter of the inheritance go after two years of whining and losing several court cases, Julian couldn’t fathom. Money, as his father had often mentioned, was the biggest bone of contention in all families, rich or poor.
He bade the porter good night and decided to walk back to his house. He’d agreed to take Carenza and her sister to meet the Cartwrights the following morning when he was due to give his speech. Miss Cartwright hadn’t seemed very enthused by the notion of a visit, but her brother had reminded her that they needed the goodwill of those able to finance their efforts, and she’d reluctantly agreed.
Julian was fairly certain that both sisters would heartily approve of the Cartwrights’ work and would be inclined to offer their assistance. As the treasurer and keeper of the books, Julian knew exactly how far Miss Cartwright squeezed every penny and admired her for it. He’d considered adding to his own financial contributions but didn’t want Miss Cartwright to feel any kind of obligation to him that might make her think his genuine admiration for her was tied to his purse.
He rarely met women quite like Miss Cartwright and Anna Mountjoy—ladies by birth who chose to work for the good of others rather than further enriching their families by making the right marriages. Society women often took up “causes,” but in his experience, they shied away from the reality of the actual work and quickly lost interest when something new came along.
But wasn’t he guilty of the same? He nodded at the night-watchman as he passed by and finally turned into his street off the King’s Road. He’d rarely interested himself in such matters until Mrs. Mountjoy had introduced him to the Cartwrights and he’d entered a whole new world. He had no intention of giving up his post on the board now even if he never succeeded in engaging Miss Cartwright’s interest. To be considered useful and to do something to help others was an eye-opening experience.
He paused to find his key and stared at his front door. He’d spent so many years cultivating the appearance of a man without a care in the world that he’d almost come to believe that was all he was. Carenza had reminded him that those who knew him well knew he was more than that—but was he?
The door opened, and his butler bowed to him.
“Good evening, Mr. Laurent.”
“Good evening.” He went into the hall and relinquished his hat and cloak. “I’m going straight to bed. Would you be so good as to send Proctor up to my rooms?”
“Yes, of course, sir.”
Julian went up the stairs and into his bedroom. For the first time he pictured Carenza naked and waiting for him in his bed and groaned. She was not manageable at all; in fact, she was quite the opposite, and worse still, part of him was enjoying it immensely.
“Is everything all right, sir?” Proctor inquired as he came in through the dressing room door.
“Yes, thank you.” Julian smothered a yawn. “I think I drank too much brandy.”
“Then you’ll sleep well tonight.” Proctor helped him out of his tight-fitting coat. “Any instructions for tomorrow, sir?”
“Yes, make sure I’m up by eight. I’m visiting the Cartwrights.”
Proctor bowed. “Then I’ll make sure to press and put out your fourth-best coat.”
“Perhaps you could make it my second best? I am giving a speech,” Julian said as he untied his cravat. “And I promise I won’t go near a single child.”
The next morning, despite dressing as plainly as he could, it still took Julian a considerable amount of time to get ready. He arrived at Musgrove House to find Carenza and Allegra awaiting him in the drawing room. Neither of them was prone to dress extravagantly, but he was pleased to see that they both wore simple gowns that would withstand the inevitable stickiness of the institution.
He apologized for keeping them waiting and escorted them down to his carriage. Carenza took the seat opposite Allegra, and Julian sat next to her.
“I don’t need to remind you to keep your wits about you, do I?” Julian said. “The only skill most of these boys excel at when they’re taken in is pickpocketing.”
“Don’t worry, I left my diamonds at home,” Carenza said. “And the Musgrove tiara.”
“Not the Smythe-Harding one?” Allegra winked at her.
