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“I leave to others the decision as to the good or evil tendencies of my character.”

Giacomo Casanova

“You are my heir, Julius! You could have been killed!”

“You have Pierce if something happens to me. No need to fret about heirs,” Julius shot back.

Lord Stirling halted his pacing, his brows furrowing into a scowl of pain. Then, surprisingly, his features eased. “I meant to say … you are my son, and your loss would have been a terrible tragedy.”

Julius blinked, unsettled by this unfamiliar softness from the man who had returned from Paris with his wife. “Never say you would mourn my death? I thought I was an incorrigible lout.”

“Both can be true,” the earl replied with a hint of a snarl.

Julius grinned. “I am glad to hear you have not entirely lost your character, Father. For a moment, I feared Paris had tamed you into some domesticated pet.”

The earl’s jaw worked as if preparing a scolding, his blue eyes narrowing. He was notoriously adept at keeping his thoughts to himself, which Julius found infuriating. It was up to him, therefore, to provoke a genuine response now and again. One could not allow a man to solidify into a statue of cold marble, after all.

But instead of launching into a tirade, Lord Stirling stared at him for a long moment and, utterly unexpectedly, burst into a gale of laughter.

Julius stiffened, struck by the sound. It echoed of his youth, of better days, when his father’s laughter had not been so rare.

Catching his breath, the earl gave a hoarse chuckle. “I believe it is you who has been tamed, son.”

Julius groaned, half-growl, half-confession. “Nauseatingly so.”

Had his father not detained him just now, he would be on his way to making reparations to Audrey for his disastrous proposal. Since his realization on the terrace, he had been desperate to find her to apologize, to offer his heart rather than mere protection. But his father had waylaid him for this private discussion and, now here he was, trapped in the study and baring his soul like a man on the rack.

What if Audrey did not wish to hear it? What if she had accepted his offer solely out of necessity and desired nothing more than a marriage of convenience?

That thought struck deep, and not for the first time. His own feelings were a tempest he had yet to fully map. But one thing was certain, if Audrey did not want something more, he would be sorely, bitterly disappointed.

They had not spoken since breakfast, and the thought of her facing his father and their household alone made him uneasy. Had her meeting with the earl been distressing?

He caught his father watching him with a lifted brow.

Julius ground his teeth. “It is true. I am … partially tamed.”

Lord Stirling gave a smug smile. “It is more difficult than it appears.”

Julius gave a reluctant nod.

“I approve,” the earl said quietly. “Miss Gideon will make an excellent wife.”

He snorted. “‘Miss Gideon will make an excellent wife,’” Julius repeated with dry mimicry. “Audrey has lived under your roof for five months and you still address her as Miss Gideon. Dash it, I hate the formality of the peerage! You are such a stuffy lot.”

Lord Stirling sighed heavily, his gaze dropping to the intricate navy blue and red Aubusson rug beneath his feet. The weight of generations seemed to press upon his shoulders.

“We could stand to be less stuffy,” he admitted. “At least amongst family.” He drew a long breath. “Audrey will make an excellent wife. You have chosen well.”

Julius gave a sharp exhale. “There was not much choosing.”

His father’s lips twitched into a rare smirk. “I do not believe that is true. The gods themselves may have created her. She may be the only woman capable of moderating my rebellious heir. At the very least, she can stitch you up after your next misadventure.”

Julius twisted his signet ring in restless frustration. His father seemed far too amused by the chaos Julius had found himself in. Lord Stirling likely viewed this unexpected engagement as long-overdue justice for a recalcitrant son. The worst part was, he might be right.

He only hoped the gods would be merciful when he offered Audrey something better than the travesty of a proposal he had first made.