“And what did she say to that?”
Aragon raised his eyebrows. “She said she would look forward to it. What else would she have said?”
To Julian’s relief, Mrs. Mountjoy received the news about the article as calmly as the Cartwrights. After showing them around—Aragon had been curious about the accommodations after his tour of the Cartwrights’—Mrs. Mountjoy invited them into her parlor and asked Bridget to fetch them tea.
“I’ve heard it all before, Mr. Laurent—the insinuations that I’m saving these girls only for my own despicable purposes, that I’m selling them into brothels, or worse.” She poured them all some tea.
“Doesn’t it bother you, ma’am?” Aragon spoke up. “I would be furious to have my good intentions twisted in such a vile way.” He glanced at Julian. “And I deeply resent the implication that my brother would involve himself in such sordid matters.”
“Your belief in your brother does you credit, my lord.”
Aragon blushed. “I wouldn’t go that far. He’s damnably annoying most of the time. Got to protect the family name and all that nonsense, so my mother says.”
“I intend to visit the newspaper offices and see if I can find out who wrote the piece,” Julian said.
“And then what?” Mrs. Mountjoy looked at him. “Do you intend to take them to court? I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“I’d prefer to deal with the person in my own way,” Julian said.
Aragon nudged him. “I’ll stand as your second if it comes to a duel.”
Mrs. Mountjoy barely restrained from rolling her eyes.
“Thank you, but I have no intention of calling out Walcott,” Julian said firmly.
“Walcott?” Mrs. Mountjoy set down her cup. “You think Percival Walcott is behind all this?”
“He’s failed to beat me in court, so I suspect he’s willing to try to blacken my reputation using any means necessary,” Julian said.
“He’s a most unpleasant man,” Mrs. Mountjoy agreed.
“You know him?” Aragon raised his eyebrows.
“I danced with him at my coming-out ball. He trod on my toes and then commented loudly to his friends that despite my dowry, I was far too plain to be married to anyone.”
Aragon stared at her. “You had a ball?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him. “Did you ever dance with me?”
“Quite possibly.”
Aragon slapped his thigh. “I thought you looked familiar! But I didn’t want to say anything in present company, in case we’d met at a brothel or something.” He laughed heartily.
Mrs. Mountjoy didn’t take offense. “An easy mistake to make, sir.”
“I don’t think you’re plain,” Aragon blithely continued. “In fact, you’re a very handsome woman, Mrs. Mountjoy.”
“Thank you.” She looked over at Julian who shrugged. “Your brother is quite an original.”
“Yes,” Aragon said. “Because I was the heir, I was kept in separate quarters. I had to learn all about the estate and how to be an earl. I hated every moment of it.”
Julian studied his brother. He’d never thought about the way they’d been brought up from his brother’s point of view before. All he’d known was that he and Anton weren’t important enough to receive attention and Aragon was.
Aragon tapped his head. “I’m not the one with the brains in the family. A lot of knowledge had to be beaten into me, and it still didn’t stick.”
“I think your heart is in the right place, sir,” Mrs. Mountjoy said. “And that is the most important thing.”
“That’s a good point, and to be truthful, because I’m an earl, it doesn’t seem to matter that I’m a noddlecock,” Aragon said cheerfully as they stood up to leave. “Mother says I can leave all that nonsense to her.”
