It was peculiar, the melancholy Florian felt as they left Bartholomew’s home. The chief magistrate had been called to the scene, and they had spent an hour or so thereafter explaining what had transpired. Naturally, the magistrate had not been pleased to discover the wrong person had been hanged while the true criminal went on with his life as if nothing had happened. It would likely result in lengthy apologies having to be made, unfavorable articles in the papers and the public questioning the justice system’s efficiency.
Climbing into a hired hackney, Florian sat down across from Raphe, who’d claimed the seat next to Juliette. This was expected and yet it still grated. After all that had happened, the only person he longed to be near—to hold and to touch—was her. Yet he was being denied such liberty because of a long list of truly annoying rules. So he folded his arms across his chest and tried not to miss her.
She was right there, after all, alive and well, no more than a few feet away. But it still felt like a wide expanse had been placed between them.
“Do you mind if I accompany you to your home instead of returning to my own, Huntley?” he asked as they plodded along. “There is something I wish to discuss with you as soon as possible. I would rather not wait.”
“I’m sure you would not,” Huntley said with raised eyebrows. He sounded amused while Juliette’s cheeks, Florian noted, turned a charming shade of pink. “There is an excellent brandy in my study that I would be happy to share with you.”
Satisfied with this answer, Florian spent the rest of the carriage ride thinking of what lay ahead. It was curious how drastically his life had changed. He’d gone from being a physician, with no intention of seeing himself wed, to a duke who could scarcely get married quickly enough. All because of the good-natured woman who’d entered his life with purpose and shown him he could have so much more than he’d ever dared dream.
With Juliette in his arms, he’d realized what he’d been missing, what he had been willing to throw away. She’d humbled him with her kindness, her generosity and steadfast resolve to do more than what was required of her.
They were good together. Their common interest in caring for the sick had forged an initial bond that had steadily deepened as they’d become better acquainted with each other. And then there were the kisses. Daring a glance in Juliette’s direction, Florian could not help but study her lips. They were perfectly shaped and capable of delivering the most passionate responses.
Huntley cleared his throat and Florian’s gaze darted to his. The duke shook his head ever so slightly, though his eyes showed a touch of humor. Chastised with the reminder that he had no right to be ogling Juliette, Florian turned to look out the window. The meandering progress he was presently forced to endure was not the least bit conducive to the haste with which he was hoping to become affianced.
When Juliette climbed out of the carriage in front of Huntley House, Raphe ushered her straight up the front steps, preventing Florian from offering escort. “I wish you would stop being so fussy,” she murmured.
“Impossible,” her brother replied, “considering all the rumors surrounding your extended stay in Florian’s home. And besides, you are my sister. It is my duty to safeguard your reputation to the best of my ability.”
She supposed that was true, however inconvenient such safeguarding happened to be.
The front door was opened by Pierson, who instantly remarked on how glad he was to see her safely returned. Behind him stood Gabriella, who’d come from the parlor as soon as they’d entered the foyer.
“We were so worried about you, Julie. I cannot tell you how good it is to see you are safe from harm,” Gabriella said. She turned to Pierson. “Would you please ask one of the maids to bring up some sandwiches and a fresh pot of tea?” She eyed Florian briefly before adding, “And have my husband’s valet pick a cravat for the Duke of Redding to borrow.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Pierson went to take care of the refreshments.
As soon as he was gone, Raphe gave Gabriella a quick account of what had happened before addressing Florian. “I believe our brandy awaits,” he told him. To Gabriella he said, “If you will excuse me, dearest, this ought not take long. But I fear Juliette and Florian are both very anxious for certain matters to be resolved, and considering all they have been through, they deserve a positive turn of events. I dare not delay them further.” Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek and then waved for Florian to follow him down the hallway and into his study.
The door closed, leaving Juliette alone with Gabriella. A moment of silence passed while Juliette fumbled with the ribbon holding her bonnet in place.
“Well?” Gabriella stared at her expectantly. “Will you tell me what that was about?”
A length of satin slipped between Juliette’s fingers, undoing the bow. She tried to refrain from smiling too broadly but failed miserably. “Florian intends to ask for my hand.”
“Oh but that is wonderful news!” Gabriella was suddenly hugging her. “I always knew the two of you would end up together.”
Juliette stepped back. “You did?”
“The air always seemed to spark when you and Florian were in the same room.” She hugged Juliette again and grinned. “I am so incredibly happy for you. For both of you.”
“Thank you. I...” She swept the bonnet from her head. Gabriella gasped, and Juliette suddenly remembered how she must appear. She raised her hand to stroke the downy softness of her head. “My lack of hair must be shocking for you.”
“No.” Gabriella’s initial surprise seemed to vanish. “Sarah did mention it but I had forgotten.” She gave a sly smile. “It is not exactly fashionable, but since turbans are in vogue—”
“I will not be wearing a turban!”
“Very well.” She linked her arm with Juliette’s and led her toward the parlor. “Mama raves about them, but frankly, I find them hideous.”
“Besides, my hair will grow back in no time at all.”
“Of course it will,” Gabriella agreed in the most unconvinced voice ever.
Juliette grinned in response. The only thing that mattered to her was how Florian saw her. And there was no doubt in her mind that he found her beautiful no matter what.
“There is something I need to be absolutely certain about before I allow you to marry my sister,” Raphe said while pouring two glasses of brandy. He handed one to Florian and gestured for him to take a seat.
