"My lord." She practically sighed the word, her hungry gaze fastened on the duke as if he were a sweetmeat. "Miss Rosemont." There was clear distain in her voice when she addressed Julia. "I had no idea you would be in attendance this evening."
"There is a lot of that going around," Julia muttered under her breath, not that Henrietta paid much attention. All of her focus was on the Duke of Radcliffe. Who, Julia had to admit, looked particularly dashing this evening.
As Henrietta prattled on about something silly and meaningless, Julia took a moment to really study Benjamin. For all that she had said that he did not listen to her, she was not much better. She did not truly see him, either. Oh, she saw the attractive duke, but did she see the man beneath? At the moment, she decided she did not, which was a pity because there was much to see and appreciate.
He was a strikingly handsome man. There was no question about that, with his raven black hair and pale complexion, lightened only by those magnificent violet eyes. Still his looks alone did not give him that air of chilly distain and thinly veiled anger than he was noted for possessing. Rather, it was his entire person, taken as a whole.
Broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, indicating that he worked his body to perfection. Yet she would not call him overly muscular but rather tightly wound, wiry almost. Yet that, too, failed to capture the true essence of him.
It was more in the way that he moved, like a panther she'd seen in the zoo, all sleek grace and predatory, skill mixed with a dash of hunger that could not be denied or contained. He laughed often, but the humor did not always reach his eyes, other than when he was with her or Nicholas. Those were the things she always saw when she looked at Benjamin.
Yet tonight, she saw more.
She saw the careful cut and fit of his evening clothes, indicating that he was wealthy, but that he didn't want to be ostentatious. She saw the perfectly knotted cravat that bespoke of good breeding and the jeweled stickpin that adorned it, the perfect accent without making him appear a fop or a dandy.
His hands were strong, with just a hint of roughness, indicating that he was not a complete man of leisure, something that spoke to his character. There was a small scar under his jaw, indicting that he had stories to tell, things that made him interesting. He was not perfect, though in Julia's eyes, he was nothing less than a god.
It was his eyes, though, that truly gave the impression that he was not to be trifled with. They were hard, at least at first glance, the violet hue so deep sometimes that it was almost amethyst or even plum. Unforgiving, she'd heard them described by a woman he'd rejected. But if one looked beneath, the way she was now, there was also pain and a thousand secrets mixed with intelligence and a sharp with that was almost caustic at times.
It struck her than the for as well as she knew Benjamin, there was still a great deal she did not know. She had known the boy and later, the young man. Then she'd gone to Sussex and he'd grown fully into his manhood, visiting her and her mother only briefly during the summer months. This man, the Duke of Radcliffe, was a man she did not know. At least not the in the same way she once had.
But she would. For at his heart, he was still Benjamin, and if nothing else, she would not return to the country without discovering who he truly was. For all that he'd given her, it was the least she could do in return. She could know him, see him for who he truly was. She was certain that no other woman could offer him that. If she did that then perhaps, just perhaps, he would not forget her when she was gone.
Chapter Five
"I heard that Miss Henrietta Cartwright made a proper cake of herself last night." Benjamin looked up from his breakfast to find Nicholas standing over him, newspaper in hand. "It's in all the scandal sheets."
Without a word, Benjamin grabbed the paper from his friend and quickly flipped to the gossip section. "Damn it! This is all wrong! This is not how it happened!" He quickly scanned the rest of the column. "I don't know where this author, this 'Society's Lady,' came by her information, but I did not have an intimate conversation with Henrietta Cartwright. I was with your sister the entire night before I brought her home, all properly chaperoned by Lady Berkshire's minion. The chit and I exchanged a few pleasantries at the refreshment table. Nothing more." He tossed the paper aside in disgust. The rumors had started already. He had hoped the gossipmongers might have waited another day or so before printing their lies.
"There's another one." Nicholas held up a second paper, holding back a grin, this one a bit more light-hearted. "This one has the infamous Lady X column. It's much closer to the truth." He held out the paper. "See for yourself."
When Benjamin snatched the second paper to read it, Nicholas helped himself to some of his friend's breakfast. It had always been this way since they had been children, one stealing from the other's plate or something similar. He couldn't imagine a time when they would not do this. Then again, things changed. He of all people knew that.
"This one is the truth," Radcliffe admitted, putting the paper down and folding it neatly. "I have no idea who Lady X is, but she has the right of it. Landover approached your sister. I chased him way and we danced. We sought refreshment afterwards and were assailed by the very chatty Lady Henrietta. I left with Julia and the chaperone. End of story."
Shrugging, Nicholas tossed the paper aside since it had served its intended purpose. "I don't much care. Neither does Julia. Nothing worse can be written about us than what already has been." Benjamin knew his friend was referring to the rumors about Julia's scars, and Benjamin's own clandestine meetings with an unknown woman several years before. "But do you care, Ben? I'm asking you not as my friend but as the Duke of Radcliffe. You need a wife. Any more on-dits like this, and you might have trouble finding one that is suitable. Then again, with your fortune, you may not need to worry."
In truth, the only thing that Nicholas cared about was making both Benjamin and Julia see what was right in front of their faces. Nick could not have the woman he loved, but these two could have each other and bask in their combined love for each other. If only they would open their eyes and stop being so stubborn.
"I'm only thirty. I have time yet." In general, Benjamin had never much thought about finding a wife. He knew he needed to fill a nursery eventually, but families, at least in his experience, came with nothing but trouble and pain. The Rosemonts were an exception. Not to mention that a wife meant no more Nicholas or Julia. They were his family, and he was not ready to give them up as of yet. He had all the family he needed.
"So this doesn't bother you?" Nicholas looked at where the first paper had landed on the floor.
"Not particularly." There was no sense lying about it. Like Rosemonts, Benjamin had endured far worse. He would do so again. This little implication was nothing.
"What if they linked you romantically to Julia? Implied that you were seriously courting her."
That made Radcliffe scoff in disbelief. "They would not." Then he paused, realizing what he'd said and whom he'd said it to. "Would they? No offense, of course, for you know that I love Julia as a sister."
Nicholas nodded, not bothering to become worked up. "None taken." Then he reached down and picked up the offending paper. "It's not in the papers as of yet, but the word is going around the clubs. Speculation is that you're doing it just to keep her away from Landover. Or to deflower her and win the bet at White's."
Benjamin said nothing, uncertain how to phrase his reply that would indicate his lack of concern without angering his friend. "I'm not. You know that. On either count. Remember that it was my idea to spend time with Julia. Landover didn't enter into things until later. As long as the three of us know the truth, about everything, that is all that matters."
"Are you really not concerned?" Nicholas asked, his brow furrowing a bit in disbelief. He'd never known his friend to be this unconcerned in the past, especially when it came to the continuation of the Radcliffe dukedom. "What about your future duchess?"
Radcliff sipped his tea and shrugg
ed. "Whoever she is, I have clearly not yet met her, so it is of little consequence." Then he softened a bit, seeing Nicholas' obvious distress. "My only concern is Julia. She has always been my primary concern and always will be. If I find that this gossip is hurting her, then I shall change our arrangement. I do not want to cause her more pain. I have done enough of that."
"Ben, it's not your fault." There was a sincerity in Nicholas's tone that Radcliff couldn't miss. "None of us blame you. We never did."
"I will not hurt her." The fierceness Radcliffe was known for crept into his voice. "Never. I shall remove from London before I cause her distress. But I also will not allow a man like Landover to hurt her just to exact some ill-thought revenge on me." He stood abruptly. "She is my concern, even more so than any duchess that may or may not exist in the future."
As Benjamin stalked away, Nicholas watched him go, wondering not for the first time why his best friend could not see what was plainly in front of his face. There was no question that Julia and Benjamin were in love and had been for a very long time. Then again, there was precious little he could do about it. He was only her brother, not her matchmaker.
After leaving the club, Benjamin's first stop was to a florist where he placed an enormous order to be delivered to Candlewood House as soon as possible. Both Landover and Lady Henrietta were problems that needed to be dealt with swiftly, and to his mind, the best way to do that was to make society believe that he was truly courting Julia. If people believed he was serious about her, they might be left in peace to enjoy the rest of the season. The best way to do that, at least for now, to ensure that the servants talked, as he knew they would, would be to send flowers. Lots of them.
He knew that Julia would, of course, understand that the gesture was meant to inspire gossip. She was an intelligent girl, after all. However in case she didn't, he would explain it all in private when they attended the theater that night. He'd meant what he said when he promised to give Julia the season she had thus far been denied. To that end, he had scheduled a veritable whirlwind of events for them over the next few weeks.
The traditional end of the season was always marked by the Cheltenham's grand ball. It was a difficult invitation to obtain, but he'd managed it year after year, mostly because of his enormous fortune. He knew that the Rosemonts had never been invited and would be unlikely guests this year as well. That needed to change, though he wasn't certain how to make it happen. Julia had admitted that the marquess' daughter, Amy, had been kind to her on occasion this season, so perhaps he could convince the young lady to speak to her parents. It was a plan worth considering, so long as Miss Cheltenham did not get the wrong idea about him and his intentions. He admired the Marquess of Evanston greatly, but he did not wish to marry the man's daughter.
He was so busy mulling over his plans that he didn't notice when another horse, a familiar honey-hued stallion, pulled up beside him. His nose, however, took note of the sickening scent of bay leaves, and he looked up just before Landover appeared, horsewhip in his hands.
"I'd put that thing down if I were you," Benjamin said lazily, giving an overall air of malaise, though he was coiled to strike if necessary. "Your horse is a fine animal and does not need to be abused in that way." Then he gave the other man a slow perusal. "Do not make me remove him from your possession."
Landover sneered at Benjamin, his expression twisted and ugly, much as the man himself probably was inside. "If I had wanted to hurt you, old man, I would have."
Raising an eyebrow at the remark about his age, Benjamin simply sighed, as if he was tired of suffering young fools like Landover. Which, to be fair, he was. "Do you need something, Landover, or are you just out to annoy the frail and infirm such as myself?"
"I'm here to deliver a warning," the other man corrected, and Benjamin could see that his eyes were bleary and unfocused, a sure sign that he'd been drinking already that day.
Waving a hand in the air, Benjamin sighed again, knowing that it annoyed the other man. "Well get on with it then. I do have a busy day ahead of me, you know. Naps to take and what not."
"I will hit you where it hurts the most." Landover's words were slightly slurred, but there was no way to mistake the anger or pure hatred in them. "You stole Catherine from me, made her love you and then discarded her as if she was of no consequence. So I shall do the same to you."
Now Benjamin was on alert, not liking the direction this conversation was taking. "I did not steal Catherine from you. You were only eighteen, Landover, and she nearly five years your senior. She did not love you, and I did not love her. She knew that."
"You lie," the marquess hissed, his fetid breath almost overpowering the duke's sense of smell. "You toyed with her affections, convinced her that I was a cad, and then, when you refused her, she ran off rather than consider another suitor."
"You are a cad," Benjamin countered dryly, wishing he could hold his breath so he would not have to smell the stench coming from the other man. "Lady Catherine had her own issues, which I will not discuss with you. She chose to leave of her own volition. I had naught to do with it."
Landover snorted, and his horse began to fidget. Apparently the horse didn't care for his owner any more than Radcliffe did. "You lie. But no matter. For now I know what you do care about. And I will have her, and then I will destroy her, both in truth and reputation. Then you will know what it feels like to lose that which you love most, just as I did."
"You will not touch Miss Rosemont." Benjamin's own temper flared to life, and he had to stop himself from leaning over and throttling Landover. "She is an innocent and has no part in out quarrel."
That only caused Landover to laugh, giving Radcliffe pause to wonder if the man wasn't a touch mad. It did happen, after all. He'd seen it himself many years ago. "You cannot stop me. The chit is meek and mild, despite the rumors. It will not take much for me to seduce her. To ruin her. And you know I will do it." An evil glint came into his eyes. "And when she sees how you have failed her, how you no longer care for her when she is no longer innocent, then I shall have my revenge."
"You do the lady much discredit," Radcliffe seethed, knowing that if he killed the marquess now, he would probably be hanged. Even if society as a whole would be better off without the man. "She is far more clever than that, and we have been friends all our lives. You cannot destroy something that has endured for so long."
"I can," Landover retorted, a nasty smile twisting his face. "I know your secret, Radcliffe, and when she learns it as well, things between you will end." Then he pulled back on his horse and started to turn away. However he paused a moment and turned back to Benjamin. "I do think it interesting, however, that you never once denied loving the chit. Perhaps this will hurt you far worse than I had originally thought. All the better, I think." Then he was gone, dashing off through the park and disappearing into the bustle of London.
Benjamin sat astride his horse for a few moments both calming himself and gathering his wits. The threat from Landover was bad enough but the other man had implied that he knew Benjamin's secret. No one knew. Or at least he didn't think anyone did. Those that had known, save for one, were dead. Most of them had been gone for many years. So how could Landover, someone nearly five years Benjamin's junior, know what had transpired that day? He couldn't. The marquess would have barely been out of leading strings or, at the very least, short pants.
Still, the way he'd said it, the phrases he'd used - words like "failing Julia" - implied that Landover knew. Or thought he did. Either way, the implications were not good. That meant that, after all of these years, he now had to find a way to tell Julia the truth about their past, as well as keep her safe from Landover. Even if she ended up hating him when she learned the secret, Benjamin would not allow the marquess to take her innocence.
He also pondered what Landover had said about Benjamin loving Julia. There was no reason to deny it, really. They were old friends. He did love her, but only as a brother. That was all. That was all it ever cou
ld be. There was no room for any other kind of love in his life, especially not with his best friend's sister. And especially not if she ever learned his secret.
Chapter Six
"Are you feeling well, my lord?" Julia asked Benjamin later that night as they took their seats in his theater box. When he didn't reply and instead continued to scan the other boxes, clearly looking for someone, she tried again. "The flowers were beautiful. Thank you. The roses were my favorites, even if they were inappropriate." Still no response. "After the performance tonight, I shall go seek out some random costermonger and ask him to ruin me."
That got his attention. Just as she'd planned. "What did you say? Good God, my lady, do not even jest about such a thing!"
Laughing, she settled back into her seat, happy to have brought him out of his mood, if only for a moment. "At least I am now certain that I have your attention, my lord. A lady does not like to be ignored."
"Point taken," he said sheepishly, trying not to laugh along with her. That could not lead to anything good. "Still, we must be careful after this morning's articles. There is someone out to do you harm, and I told you already about my encounter with Landover in the park this morning." He had, of course omitted the part about his secrets. He did not need Julia to know about that.
She opened her fan and began to swish it lazily in front of her. "Oh, pooh. You know as well as I that there is little that can be done to me that my scars have not already done." In that moment, she was very much Society Julia and not the Country Julia that he had known for so long. Strangely, he found that he couldn't take his eyes off her. Nor did he want to. She was truly captivating.
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