Chapter Two #3
Julian nodded. “Five of them. Three sisters and two brothers, all younger than I, and not one of them beyond embarrassing me.” He chuckled.
“Or each other, come to that, though it is perhaps unfair to include my youngest brother in my accusation. Arthur is the quiet one. Then again, there are those who say, ‘beware the quiet ones’.”
“Five! How splendid.” Miss Fairfax’s curls danced as she shook her head. “I should imagine you have many tales to tell.”
Julian grimaced. “One or two, perhaps.”
She gave a soft laugh, followed by a wistful expression, there and gone. Then, “Your parents are still living?”
He nodded again. “They are, and both in good health, thank God.”
“You are fortunate, sir.” A sigh escaped her. “My father is quite ill, I’m afraid. Has been for some time.”
The response raised more questions, though Julian resisted the temptation to ask what ailed the fellow.
If the tone of Miss Fairfax’s voice was any indication, however, the ailment sounded serious.
He couldn’t help but wonder what would become of her if and when her father died.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied. “It must be difficult for you.”
“More so for him.” She gave a brief, cheerless smile. “He insisted I go out today to lift my spirits. My spirits, if you please! Yet he is the one suffering.”
“I’m sure seeing him suffer cannot be easy for you, Miss Fairfax, and I’m equally sure he understands.”
“No doubt. I’m fully aware of his motives and I’ll be sure to tell him the outing was very pleasant.” They turned onto her street, and her fingers, tucked into the crook of Julian’s elbow, tightened a little. “Which it has been.”
Julian gave the street sign a quick glance, which indicated more than Annabelle Fairfax’s address. It also indicated that his time with her was almost at an end.
Three more minutes. Maybe four.
“Which number?” he asked, eyeing the row of elegant townhouses.
“Twenty-nine,” she replied, gesturing. “The second house in from the far end, on this side.”
Maybe five.
“Right,” he muttered, falling silent as several different scenarios played out in his mind.
I suppose I have no choice but to leave her at the door and bid her farewell. Not sure why that bothers me. I know nothing of her, after all. Pity. I should like to know more. Not likely, though, since I’m leaving tomorrow. Besides, she might already be—
“I am very grateful to you, sir.” Her voice broke into his thoughts once more. “I trust the detour has not been too much of an inconvenience.”
“Not an inconvenience at all, Miss Fairfax,” he replied, and finished his contemplation. She might already be spoken for. The possibility of it darkened his thoughts. Once again, he regarded the lady’s bonneted head, but drew on the vision of her face he’d committed to memory.
Not even an hour earlier, he’d gazed upon the naked form, albeit a portrayal, of the Duchess of Rothbury.
Unquestionably, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
And he’d seen almost every inch of her. It had been a pleasurable experience, but he desired nothing more from it.
Beyond admiring her physical assets, he had no real interest in the lady, no compulsion to learn about any hidden beauty she might possess.
Yet he longed to know more about the young woman still attached to his arm. Her beauty might not be as remarkable as that of the duchess, but, for Julian, it held far more appeal. He yearned to solve the allure and mystery of her. And he had no time left in which to do so.
“Well, here we are,” she said, with a touch of finality. “I must thank you again, sir.”
Halting, Julian regarded the polished brass number on the door. Of course! I could always—
“Sir?”
Julian blinked. “Forgive me, Miss Fairfax. It seems my mind also has a propensity to wander.” He cleared his throat.
“I confess, I find myself unwilling to bid you a final farewell. That being so, and at the risk of being presumptuous, I wonder if you might be agreeable to an exchange of correspondence between us.”
Even as the words were spoken, he groaned inwardly. Bloody hell, Julian. Could you be any more pragmatic?
Those lovely eyes widened as they had earlier.
“Oh, Mr. Northcott, I…” She released his arm, looked past him to where her maid stood in silence, and then regarded him once more.
“I’m afraid it would not be appropriate, sir.
” A smile, regretful rather than joyful, came and went.
“You see, I am promised to another and due to be married in a fortnight.”
The response landed rather like a punch to his gut.
“Ah.” Julian barely managed to summon up a smile of his own as he absorbed the news, unsure of what pained him more, disappointment or embarrassment.
His cravat felt tight all of a sudden, and he suppressed an impulse to loosen it and to disappear, with all haste, back into the city streets.
Holding onto his smile, he inclined his head.
“In that case, Miss Fairfax, I apologize for my temerity and offer you my very best wishes for your future. I must also excuse myself from your company and allow you to continue with your day.”
“Mr. Northcott, please.” Gloved fingers touched his arm once more. “I feel compelled to tell you that, if circumstances were different, I would consider it an honor and a privilege to correspond with you. As it is, please allow me to thank you, again, for your chivalry. I shall never forget it.”
Julian gazed into Annabelle Fairfax’s eyes and wondered if Josiah would be able to capture their beauty on canvas. A random thought. Utterly pointless.
“I’m happy to have been of service to you,” he replied, regarding both women as he tipped his hat. “I bid you both a good day.”
Then, feeling overly warm and rather deflated, he walked away, taking several good strides before allowing himself the luxury of a hefty, and heartfelt, sigh.
He needed a drink.