“You never tried to find her? When your wife died, that is?”
“I had no right. Besides, it was too late, she was gone.” He smiled wryly. “It seemed somehow as though events were coming full circle when you came into Harrison’s life and he fell in love with you.” He met her gaze. “There has not been a day since the moment I lost her that I have not regretted allowing your grandmother to walk out of my life, and I will not watch history repeat itself.”
“You do know what he did?”
“I do. Quite simply, it was wrong. However, while his methods were questionable, he was only trying to save me from scandal.” He leaned forward. “That kind of loyalty is commendable.”
“I suppose one could say—”
“Furthermore, at that point, he scarcely knew you at all and, in truth, owed you no allegiance whatsoever.”
“Well, yes, if you wish to—”
“And you must give him some credit for calling the entire thing off.”
“And I do but—”
“But what, my dear?”
“But …” She met his gaze directly and ignored the lump that lodged in her throat. “He wishes none of it had ever happened.” She drew a deep breath. “None of it would include me.”
“My dear Julia.” His voice softened. “You drive him quite mad. This is not the first thing he has said to you that was not entirely as he intended it, nor, I suspect, will it be the last. He is indeed miserable and confused. He has no idea what to do, which in itself is not the Harrison I know, and says a great deal about not only his state of mind but his feelings for you. He is beside himself trying to come up with some sort of brilliant idea to win you back.” He grinned. “God help us all.”
She chose her words with care. “It seems to me what someone says in the heat of the moment is often what one truly feels.”
“Does it?” He considered her curiously. “And it’s always been my experience that nothing said in the heat of the moment can be completely trusted. Words are both awkward and dangerous. And what comes out of one’s mouth might not be at all what one meant to say.”
She met his gaze. “Do you really think so?”
“My dear, no man who truly wished none of this had ever happened would be as unhappy as my son is today.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know …”
“You can certainly choose not to forgive him and never see him again.” He paused. “If that would make you happy.”
She heaved a heavy sigh. “Or I could forgive him, I suppose.”
“And allow him to spend the rest of his life trying to make amends.” Lord Kingsbury nodded. “It would certainly serve him right. Fit penance for his crimes I would say.”
“It does seem appropriate.” She thought for a moment. “Is he truly miserable?”
“I have never seen anything like it.” He nodded. “All he wants now is to make up for it all.”
“He did get me a dog.”
“Entirely his idea, I might point out.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “You’re lying, my lord.”
“But I do it so well. And it’s not a complete lie. A dog is not something I would have thought of. I tend to lean more toward jewelry as a gift of apology.”
“You should reconsider that. It’s not nearly as charming.” She cast an affectionate glance at the dog. “Why is he called Browning?”
“Robert Browning is Harrison’s favorite poet,” Lord Kingsbury said staunchly.
She laughed. “I doubt that.”
“He is trying to embrace poetry. For you.”
“Is he?” How very sweet of Harrison. In spite of his arrogance and annoying nature, there was something endearing about the man. But then she already knew that.
“He is indeed.” Lord Kingsbury nodded. “Admittedly, I am lending him a guiding hand. Browning is my favorite poet as well.” He thought for a moment. “'How sad and bad and mad it was—’”
Her grandmother’s voice sounded from the doorway. “'But then, how it was sweet.’”
Lord Kingsbury’s eye widened. He struggled to his feet and turned toward the door, his voice barely more than a shocked whisper. “Eleanor?”
She smiled. “Albert.”
He stared in disbelief. “I thought you were dead.”
“Not quite yet.”
“Very nearly everyone we once knew is.”
“Apparently, we are made of sterner stuff.”
“I assumed that you too … You seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth.”
“Admittedly a mistake on my part. One of many.” She shrugged. “And water under the bridge now as they say.”
He studied her for a moment. “Do you still wish me dead?”
“Goodness, you are an absurd man. I never wished you dead.” Her smile widened and her eyes twinkled in a wicked manner. “Simply dismembered.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Is it too late?”
“For dismemberment?” She glanced pointedly at his cane. “It scarcely seems necessary now.”
He smiled slowly. “You have not changed at all.”
“Nonsense.” She scoffed. “I have changed a great deal. Why, I am as old as time itself.”
“And yet just as lovely as I remember.” He gazed at Eleanor with a look that said he did indeed see the woman she once was.
How sad to think of all the years lost because she was slow to forgive and he didn’t know how to make amends. Julia’s heart caught.
“You didn’t answer me. Is it too late?”
“As we have both agreed we are still alive, I would say it’s not at all too late.”
“I have much to make up for,” he warned.
“We both have much to make up for.” While her words were directed at the older man, her gaze strayed to Julia. “I was a fool to have delayed forgiving you when it was only truly my pride that was injured. I have regretted it for thirty years.”
“Will you allow me to make amends now?”
“My dear Albert, we have wasted a great many years. I should hate to waste any more.” She moved toward him and held out her hand. “I would propose we go on from here.”
He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “My darling girl, there is not a day that I have not missed you.”
Eleanor fairly glowed with newfound happiness. “What a wonderful coincidence, my dear man.”
The two long-ago lovers stared into one another’s eyes and Julia realized her presence was not needed. She edged toward the door.
“If you will excuse me …”
“Before you go,” Lord Kingsbury began, “there is something I have wondered since we first met at Veronica’s.”
“Yes?”
“Although I am most grateful that you decided to sell Hermione’s memoirs, as none of this would have happened otherwise, I am curious as to why you simply didn’t sell your great-grandmother’s jewels.” He nodded at the pendant around her neck. “That necklace is most distinctive and I remember it well. It was given to her by a prince if I recall and is no doubt quite valuable.”
Eleanor sighed. “I told you to take it to a jeweler.”
“I haven’t had the chance.” Julia stared. “All of your treasures then? Are they all—”
“True treasures.” Eleanor lifted a shoulder in a casual manner. “Of course.”
“Mrs. Philpot said they were paste.”
“Goodness, darling, if one is going to allow the world to think one is mad, it’s best not to let anyone know the madwoman in the cottage has a king’s ransom in jewels.” She met her granddaughter’s gaze. “Although, as they are not my jewels, perhaps I am not the one you should be quizzing about this.”
“Perhaps not.” Julia nodded, exchanged a few more words then took her leave, closing the parlor doors behind her. It wasn’t as if Eleanor and Albert needed a chaperone after all. A girlish giggle sounded behind the doors and Julia grinned. Although perhaps they did.
A few minutes later,
she stood in the middle of her bedroom and drew a deep breath.
“I know you don’t do parlor tricks,” she said, “and Lord knows, you have never appeared on command, but I do need to speak to you. Now.”
“Very well,” Hermione said a fraction of an instant before she appeared, sitting in her usual spot at the end of the bed. “You called and I came.” She shrugged. “I do hope you’re happy but do not expect it to happen again.”
Julia ignored her. “I need to ask about, well, your legacy.”
“The memoirs you mean.”
“No. Money, jewels, that sort of thing.”
Hermione wrinkled her nose. “It’s really most impolite to discuss money.”
“You have my apologies.”
Hermione sighed. “Go on then.”
“What happened to your money? Why did you leave nothing of value when you died?”
She bristled. “I rather thought my memoirs were of value.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant and I did.” She shrugged. “The small fortune I inherited from my husband went to my son, as was expected. Unfortunately, while he did not squander it, he did not nurture it either and, as you know, there was nothing left when he died. My jewels, quite an extensive collection I might add, went to my daughter.”
“Real jewels?”
“Goodness, darling.” She sniffed. “How could you ask such a thing?”
“Then all this time that I have been juggling accounts and trying to determine what to do about my financial woes,” Julia said slowly, “the solution to all my problems has been in my grandmother’s hands the entire time?”
“So it would seem.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I don’t need to sell the memoirs then?”
“Not if you don’t wish to.”
“And there is no need to marry anyone because I need money?”
“Not at all.” She paused. “And the fact that Harrison has a tidy fortune has never played a part in how you feel about him, has it?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“His wealth has simply been a pleasant attribute, like dimples or curly hair. And much more attractive now that you don’t need it.” She studied her for a moment. “What are you waiting for, Julia?”
“What do you mean?”
Hermione heaved a long-suffering sigh. “To begin with”—she ticked the points off on her fingers—“you no longer need Harrison’s money now that you know the value of the treasures that are as much yours as they are Eleanor’s. So that aversion you have about marrying a man for his money is no longer relevant. You, my dear have independent wealth.”
A weight lifted off her shoulders. “And I have you to thank.”
“Think nothing of it.” Hermione waved away the comment. “Secondly, you have learned a lesson from your grandmother’s mistakes.”
“About forgiveness?”
“And balance as well.” She shrugged. “Forgiving an act that had nothing to do with you or something that was well intended even if ill conceived against a lifetime of regret.”
“I should forgive him.”
Hermione raised a brow. “I thought you already had.”
“What if it’s too late?”
“It’s not but to make certain you should waste no time.”
Julia stepped toward the door then paused. “But what about Miss Waverly? She is the type of woman he’s always wanted for a wife.”
“You needn’t worry about the proper Miss Waverly.” Hermione smirked. “I have it on very good authority that this morning, when her maid went in to awaken her, she discovered the young woman had run off with a footman.” She leaned forward in a confidential manner. “A very handsome footman I might add.”
Julia stared. “Veronica was right. Those least likely to bend …”
Chapter Twenty-two
“Julia,” he began. “My methods may have been questionable but I believed, at the time, the end result was worth the, well, more deceitful aspects … damnation.”
Harrison glared at the suit of armor positioned to one side of the fireplace. He’d had it moved here from its usual place at the foot of the stairs because it was nearly Julia’s height and provided an excellent substitute Julia. He was not about to speak to her again until he knew exactly what he wished to say.
He resumed pacing the parlor. While he realized it might seem too efficient to practice a speech of apology and affection it also seemed wise, given the last two times he had tried to speak with her. It might also be wise to face up to one’s own limitations. As much as he prided himself on his intelligence he apparently had no idea when to restrain from expressing every opinion he had ever had. He was not a stupid man, yet she made him feel somewhat stupid, a feeling only enforced by his actions. He had no intention of going to Julia until he knew exactly what he was going to say. Obviously, he could no longer trust his intelligence, or lack thereof, in her presence.
Harrison paced the length of the parlor, drew a deep breath then stopped before the armor.
“‘To err is human, to forgive is divine’. Alexander Pope.” He paused and cast the substitute Julia a knowing look. “One of Britain’s greatest poets, you know.” He groaned. That was bloody awful. He sounded like a schoolboy giving a recitation. He had no idea how to do this. How would Charles have handled this? Or his father?
“Listen to your heart and not your head.”
Very well. He drew a deep breath then addressed the suit.
“Julia, from the very beginning, I have behaved not at all like my usual self in some ways while in others I have been entirely true to my nature. I apologize for the absurd scheme I initiated with Mr. Ellsworth and I assure you nothing like that will ever happen again. I apologize as well for my interference with Lady Holridge however, while I cannot guarantee I will never again do what I think is appropriate under the circumstances, I do promise to try not to interfere and to attempt to take your concerns into account.”
That was good, that was very good. He thought for a moment then continued.
“As for the memoirs, if you wish to sell them for publication, I have no objection. I have learned there are far more important things in this life than preventing scandal.” He paused for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement in the mirror over the mantel that partially reflected the door. His heart skipped a beat. How long had she been there? His head said to stop at once and acknowledge her presence. His heart disagreed.
He smiled to himself and continued. “I know you value your financial independence, and if the sale of the memoirs will make you content in that regard so be it. For good or ill, they are your legacy.”
He didn’t dare look toward her reflection for fear of meeting her gaze. This was going entirely too well and there was one more thing he needed to say.
“You should know as well, that I did not love you the moment we first met. I found you obstinate and annoying and far too intelligent for a woman. But some time after I asked for your friendship … By the time I kissed you on the terrace, my fate was sealed.” He cleared his throat. “I cannot imagine living my life without you by my side. And should you agree to be my wife”—his gaze flicked to hers in the mirror—“I shall spend every day of my life trying to make you happy. And in doing so I shall be happy as well.”
“You will make a lovely couple,” Julia said, “you and the suit of armor, that is.”
“She’s everything I ever wanted in a wife. I simply didn’t realize it until I met her.”
“She seems rather less than the proper, correct, well-bred lady you wanted. Goodness, Harrison, her knees are showing.”
“But you must admit they are lovely knees although they could do with a bit of polishing.”
“Ah, but she does seem an independent type that might not wish her knees polished.”
He shrugged. “Her independence is what makes her who she i
s. I would not now change her if I could.”
“Even if she isn’t what you wanted?”
“She isn’t what I wanted only because I could never have imagined her. Now, I can’t imagine anyone else.”
“No?”
“I love her.”
“I see.” She considered him for a moment. “How long have you known I was here?”
“How long have you been here?”
Her brow rose. “Answering a question with a question? Very well then. I did hear you expound on the divine nature of forgiveness.”
“It’s poetry, you know.”
She bit back a smile. “I am aware of that.”
He grimaced. “I can’t say I shall ever love poetry.”
“Nor do I expect you to.”
“I have recently discovered I have a great many flaws and failings.”
“You are human after all.”
“Will you marry me then and correct all my flaws and failings?”
“No.”
His heart sank and he swiveled to face her. “No?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I have no desire to correct your flaws and failings. They make you who you are.” She smiled. “I would not change you even if I could.”
“But do you forgive me? My flaws and failings that is.”
“Well, you did give me a dog.”
He smiled slowly. “I did.”
“He’s a grand spirit. I already love him.”
“How could you not?” His smiled widened. “He is irresistible and named after a poet.”
“And I love you as well.” Her gaze locked with his. “How could I not?”
“In spite of it all?”
“No, my dear man.” She walked toward him. “Because of it all.”
He moved toward her and pulled her into his arms. “And I love you as I never imagined, never dreamed, I could.”
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