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“By recollecting the pleasures I have had formerly, I renew them, I enjoy them a second time, while I laugh at the remembrance of troubles now past, and which I no longer feel.”
Giacomo Casanova
Brendan’s guards escorted Julius to the front door, waiting for him to enter before departing. As the heavy door shut behind him, he paused, sensing something was different. There was a new energy in the air—charged, unsettled. His eyes landed on a pile of trunks stacked neatly in the hall.
A vibration of tension rippled through him, and he exhaled sharply, as if breath alone could banish it. He strode down the corridor, his gaze narrowing as he reached the open door to his father’s study.
Julius groaned under his breath, berating himself for the flutter of unease in his chest.
Lord Snarling was back.
Rolling his shoulders, he stepped into the doorway.
“What is the meaning of this, Julius!” the earl barked, standing rigid beside the fireplace, a sheet of paper crumpled in his grip. His scowl was formidable, his voice brimming with accusation.
Another letter, no doubt. Likely from that venomous Lady Astley. Julius should have anticipated a second missive and made a sweep through the study to destroy it. But he had been … well, distracted.
“It is a letter,” Julius replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in deliberate defiance. “As to its meaning … that, I imagine, is subjective.”
Lord Snarling’s face hardened. “You ruined Miss Gideon?”
Julius tensed, though he had braced for precisely that charge. “Ruined,” he echoed, “is such a … nebulous term, is it not?”
The earl’s jaw worked. “Did you or did you not disappear with Audrey Gideon for over a week, when a narrow-minded chaperon with a fondness for gossip was meant to collect her?”
Julius met his father’s furious gaze. How, precisely, was he to explain the improbable series of events that had compromised Audrey’s reputation beyond repair? Or that they were now engaged to be married?
“There were mitigating factors,” he offered finally, his usual arsenal of quips proving uncharacteristically barren.
“What could possibly justify this?” The earl shook the letter in the air, the crinkle of paper as sharp as his tone.
Julius opened his mouth and closed it again. For once, he understood his father’s fury. They both cared for Audrey. Perhaps, in his own way, the old man was simply trying to protect her too.
“She accompanied me in a bid to save my life,” Julius said at last, his voice quieter. “My … circulation was compromised at the time.”
The earl dropped his arm, the letter sagging in his hand. His scowl shifted to a puzzled frown. And then, astonishingly, his gaze moved to the doorway behind Julius, and his entire face transformed.
He smiled.
Julius blinked in disbelief. Lord Snarling smiling? Surely not.
“I hate to hear two of my favorite men quarrel so.”
That voice.
Joy surged through Julius like a flame catching dry tinder. He spun around, the world narrowing to the figure framed in the doorway.
She was radiant.
Wearing a fashionably cut gown in the latest Parisian style, her fair hair swept up in a graceful coiffure that revealed touches of blonde and artfully hid hints of brown, she smiled with effortless warmth. Her moss-green eyes sparkled in the light, just as they had in his childhood memories.
Julius gripped the back of the armchair, staggered by the sight. His knees felt strangely unsteady.
“Mother,” he breathed.
Lady Smiling tilted her head, her expression alight with affection and amusement. It had been far too long, but in that moment, it felt as though she had never left.
