Chapter 13 #3
Hyperia came down beside me in a heap or a huff.
“You would have offered for me, Jules. I never indicated that a courtship or an engagement would be welcome. We were friends, and I would rather be your friend than your neglected spouse. But you would not have neglected me. You were not Harry, or your father, or your uncle Thomas. You aren’t a Society blade. You were and are a decent man.”
A notably modest bar. “I might well have become that absently fond, negligent spouse who did not deserve you. I am a different person than I was before the war, Perry.”
I was less sociable, prone to ill humors, and impatient with protocol. I was not exactly happier, but I was more settled and more at peace with myself. I no longer gave my various ailments or losses much thought, which was doubtless progress.
“You are the same,” Hyperia said, “in the material particulars. So am I. I still do not want to be explained as the gentry outcross brought into the family to invigorate any aristocratic line from time to time. I do not want to be referred to as sound breeding stock. You have my permission to duel with anybody, man or woman, who refers to my ‘good set of hips.’”
Her heart was gorgeous beyond description and her mind a work of high art. Her hips were luscious, the envy of goddesses. I kept that observation to my idiot, male self.
“I did not appreciate you,” I said. “That is beyond question. Friends do not neglect each other, and I am guilty as charged. At no time did I feel you were unappreciative of me, Hyperia. I am angry that Harry charmed his way into your bed, but I am hopeful too.”
“Hopeful? Julian, are you having one of your spells? I slept with your brother, then tried to pretend it didn’t happen, then made up outlandish excuses to prevent you from sharing my bed because even I could not allow that to happen with such a deception between us.”
“Fear of childbirth is no more outlandish than a dread of pitched battle, Hyperia. Credit yourself that much.”
“Very well, I made up reasonable, dishonest excuses to keep you at arm’s length because my conscience tormented me, and I did not want to lose you.”
I gently bumped her with my shoulder. “Oddly enough, I am not lost. Befuddled from time to time, extraordinarily forgetful on notable occasions. Preoccupied with puzzles and mysteries, and unwelcome by some of the best hostesses, but I am not lost.”
My life did feel in some regards like a pitched battle, but when it came to my feelings for Hyperia, my heart was tranquility itself. I loved her. I wanted her to be happy, preferably with me, but if that wasn’t possible, then I wanted her situated in whatever manner best allowed her to thrive.
“Julian, I betrayed you.”
The words were gratifying, also untrue. “Harry betrayed us both, but he has been gathered to whatever reward Providence deems appropriate. You were under no obligation to me at the time you and Harry were intimate, Perry. You then kept the business to yourself at least in part out of consideration for me.”
“Some. Mostly consideration for one Hyperia West. And then you proposed, and I accepted your suit for myself too, Julian. I am very selfish.”
“So selfish that when given the opportunity, you have unburdened yourself of regretted past deeds and cleared the air with me. Might we try to put this behind us?”
“You are so logical.” A gratifying hint of exasperation shone through her self-castigation. “If Duquette hadn’t come along… and as to that, who else might Harry have boasted to?”
“I don’t care. Are you concerned about who might next accuse me of treason, Hyperia? I assure you, in the eyes of the law, treason matters a good deal more than a spot of recreational fornication between willing, albeit inebriated, adults. In the eyes of most sensible people as well.”
“I did not come up here to discuss this,” Hyperia said. “The ballroom is so lovely.”
“A transitory illusion.” Now illuminated by only the two chandeliers. The footmen would light the candles in the other two just before guests were admitted.
Hyperia leaned into me. “You are not transitory. You are… steadfast.”
A dull word, not very far from stodgy or stoic in either the lexicon or meaning, and yet, to be steadfast in Hyperia’s eyes, when all the world regarded me as dodgy…
I put my arm around her shoulders. “I am selfish, Miss West. I see a lovely, precious treasure, and I want her all for myself, for all time. You may depend upon me to fight fiercely to safeguard that treasure.”
We remained side by side on the bench, half embracing, the magical ballroom empty before us.
A peace came over me, the peace of having come safely back into camp after too much time alone in a perilous wilderness.
The wilderness was where I had done my best work, but without the haven of camp, where I had the protection of my own kind, the wilderness would have been the end of me.
“I must put on my finery,” Hyperia said. “Did you realize that Her Grace will have to dance the opening set with the baron?”
Small talk was another form of safe haven. “The duchess appreciates taller partners. Who will lead Lady Clotilda out?”
We discussed possible partners for her ladyship—the ranking male guest according to protocol—and realized the honor might well befall me.
“I will use the opportunity to thank her ladyship for her amazingly generous hospitality. I don’t know as Caldicott Hall has ever hosted such an impressive entertainment.” I rose and offered Hyperia my hand. “The baron must be out a considerable amount of coin.”
“It’s not his coin,” Hyperia said, getting to her feet and keeping hold of my hand. “Lady Clo has a free hand, and she pays the resulting bills, except for the punch. She claims that’s the tradition, but when the tradition arose only after the last baroness died, one questions the use of the term.”
“Some sort of revenge, you think? Shaming the baron with a forest of pine boughs and a fortune in chalk art?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care.” Hyperia hugged me, and I wrapped my arms around her. She gave a great sigh and tucked closer.
The sigh of a soldier who’d made it safely through the affray. I held her with the same sense of relief and gratitude. We had more to sort through, more decisions to make.
And we had a ball to endure, as well as a particularly bothersome mystery yet to solve, but I dearly hoped the worst of our personal fight was behind us.