asked.
“Wife-hunting,” Julian replied. “I assure you a wife is the last thing I seek at this juncture in my life.”
“I see,” Lady Cheswick replied with a nod. “Then you have come to town to see your mistress.”
Julian responded with a choking sound.
Henrietta hid a giggle behind her gloved hand. The old bird positively lived to play these entrapment games. Julian’s reaction was precisely what she sought, but Henrietta had always seen through the ploys.
“So we have the truth at last!” the dowager chortled and reached for the bell.
“I came to London take care of some matters of business , my lady,” Julian insisted, his color suddenly rising. Henrietta’s giggle ceased. Had the old woman hit close to the mark? The footman quietly entered with the tea cart.
“Come now, my dear, there’s no need to be coy,” Lady Cheswick cajoled. “We both know how young gentlemen prioritize their affairs . Sit beside me, Julian.” She patted the cushion. “Humor an old woman. While Henrietta pours tea, you will tell me all about the good Duke of Wellington. And none of this rubbish from the papers. I want to know the true cut of the man.”
Henrietta watched them through her lashes as she poured steaming hyson into three delicate Sèvres porcelain cups. Julian had a mistress? She didn’t understand why the revelation came as a shock. Of course he would have one. Yet knowing it for a fact gnawed at her insides. Her ire rose that a man in his position would throw away money he could not spare to keep a woman for his pleasure. Was that why he’d sold his commission? She wondered what kind of woman she was. Dark and sultry-eyed? A voluptuous redhead? She had no clue what manner of beauty appealed to him. But why did it even matter to her? She served Lady Cheswick and then turned to Julian, stifling the powerful urge to dump the hot tea in his lap.
Julian’s brown eyes sought hers with an inquiring look. She frowned back. His dark expression said he divined the direction of her thoughts. She resolved to give him a very large dose of thoughts once she had him alone again, but then she feared she might not get the chance when Julian rose to take his leave.
“Surely you aren’t leaving us already?” Lady Cheswick remarked disapprovingly.
“Needs must, my lady,” Julian replied. “I have a number of pressing matters.”
“When will you call again?” Lady Cheswick voiced Henrietta’s silent question.
“I’m not certain, my lady, but I will be sure to send word.” Julian made another bow and then took Henrietta’s hand. “Good-bye, Hen.”
A surge of panic struck Henrietta at the finality of his tone. Was he leaving for good?
“Why the rush?” Lady Cheswick asked. “That’s the trouble with this generation. None of you take the time to smell the roses. And there are some lovely blooms in my walled garden. Why don’t you take Henrietta for a brief turn before you leave?”
Henrietta glanced nervously out the window. They’d not been alone together since he’d kissed her at the inn. “I doubt Julian can spare the time,” she remarked, still stinging from his rejection.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Julian replied. “Of course I can spare time for a short stroll. Would you care to join us, my lady?”
“My dear, ’tis bad form to discuss one’s maladies, but these old knees are not what they used to be,” Lady Cheswick replied. “In my day, none could curtsy more gracefully or dance a more elegant minuet, but I fear those times are long past.” Henrietta wondered what the old lady was playing at. Last she knew, her aunt’s cane was a mere affectation she employed purely to intimidate. Lady Cheswick waved her hand in a shooing motion. “You both go along and enjoy it for me. It’s the hour of my afternoon repose anyway.”
***
H enrietta guided Julian through the morning room and then onto the terrace overlooking the parterre gardens that were so popular in the last century.
“Wife-hunting,” Julian replied. “I assure you a wife is the last thing I seek at this juncture in my life.”
“I see,” Lady Cheswick replied with a nod. “Then you have come to town to see your mistress.”
Julian responded with a choking sound.
Henrietta hid a giggle behind her gloved hand. The old bird positively lived to play these entrapment games. Julian’s reaction was precisely what she sought, but Henrietta had always seen through the ploys.
“So we have the truth at last!” the dowager chortled and reached for the bell.
“I came to London take care of some matters of business , my lady,” Julian insisted, his color suddenly rising. Henrietta’s giggle ceased. Had the old woman hit close to the mark? The footman quietly entered with the tea cart.
“Come now, my dear, there’s no need to be coy,” Lady Cheswick cajoled. “We both know how young gentlemen prioritize their affairs . Sit beside me, Julian.” She patted the cushion. “Humor an old woman. While Henrietta pours tea, you will tell me all about the good Duke of Wellington. And none of this rubbish from the papers. I want to know the true cut of the man.”
Henrietta watched them through her lashes as she poured steaming hyson into three delicate Sèvres porcelain cups. Julian had a mistress? She didn’t understand why the revelation came as a shock. Of course he would have one. Yet knowing it for a fact gnawed at her insides. Her ire rose that a man in his position would throw away money he could not spare to keep a woman for his pleasure. Was that why he’d sold his commission? She wondered what kind of woman she was. Dark and sultry-eyed? A voluptuous redhead? She had no clue what manner of beauty appealed to him. But why did it even matter to her? She served Lady Cheswick and then turned to Julian, stifling the powerful urge to dump the hot tea in his lap.
Julian’s brown eyes sought hers with an inquiring look. She frowned back. His dark expression said he divined the direction of her thoughts. She resolved to give him a very large dose of thoughts once she had him alone again, but then she feared she might not get the chance when Julian rose to take his leave.
“Surely you aren’t leaving us already?” Lady Cheswick remarked disapprovingly.
“Needs must, my lady,” Julian replied. “I have a number of pressing matters.”
“When will you call again?” Lady Cheswick voiced Henrietta’s silent question.
“I’m not certain, my lady, but I will be sure to send word.” Julian made another bow and then took Henrietta’s hand. “Good-bye, Hen.”
A surge of panic struck Henrietta at the finality of his tone. Was he leaving for good?
“Why the rush?” Lady Cheswick asked. “That’s the trouble with this generation. None of you take the time to smell the roses. And there are some lovely blooms in my walled garden. Why don’t you take Henrietta for a brief turn before you leave?”
Henrietta glanced nervously out the window. They’d not been alone together since he’d kissed her at the inn. “I doubt Julian can spare the time,” she remarked, still stinging from his rejection.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Julian replied. “Of course I can spare time for a short stroll. Would you care to join us, my lady?”
“My dear, ’tis bad form to discuss one’s maladies, but these old knees are not what they used to be,” Lady Cheswick replied. “In my day, none could curtsy more gracefully or dance a more elegant minuet, but I fear those times are long past.” Henrietta wondered what the old lady was playing at. Last she knew, her aunt’s cane was a mere affectation she employed purely to intimidate. Lady Cheswick waved her hand in a shooing motion. “You both go along and enjoy it for me. It’s the hour of my afternoon repose anyway.”
***
H enrietta guided Julian through the morning room and then onto the terrace overlooking the parterre gardens that were so popular in the last century.
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