Chapter Seven
For a moment, Julian couldn’t even think. He’d come to Beth’s home in the hope that she might take a turn about the garden with him, or sit a moment in the sitting room. Something. Anything. He’d realized in the quiet hours of the morning that his sister’s evaluation of his feelings was right.
He did love Beth, with a steady and deep love built on years of friendship. He’d thought his distaste for Mary was the result of her undesirable company and little more. How wrong he’d been. Beth had claimed his heart, and he hadn’t even realized it.
“Did you hear me, Julian?” Mary interrupted his thoughts. “Elizabeth, quiet, bookish Elizabeth, fancies herself quite in love with you. Is that not the most diverting thing?”
He met her victorious gaze. “Why are you like this, Mary? You inflict pain with glee. You didn’t used to be this way.”
Her smile disappeared on the instant. “I only meant to share something amusing. Do you not find it funny?”
“Not in the least. For though I cannot approve of the way you went about it, hearing that there is even a chance that Miss Elizabeth might care for me is, perhaps, the most encouraging thing I have heard in this home these past three years.”
Shock began to give way to panic in Mary’s face.
He eyed Mrs. Gillerford but found himself with nothing to say to the lady. She’d allowed her younger daughter to be mistreated and hurt again and again, never protecting her, and never seeming to care. At times, she’d even participated in the cruelty.
“Mr. Gillerford, under the circumstances, I feel I should tell you that I am in love with your daughter. Not this one.” He motioned to Mary. “And should I be so fortunate as to earn her regard in return, I would very much like to have a conversation with you in the near future.”
Mr. Gillerford’s heavily creased brow pulled deeper. “We are speaking of Elizabeth?” He clearly didn’t think that possible.
She deserved so much better than this family.
“If you will all excuse me,” he said, addressing them as a whole, “somewhere nearby, the lady I adore is hurting, and that is a circumstance I cannot allow to continue.” He sketched a quick bow and turned to go.
“Julian, wait.” Mary caught up to him with alarming speed. “If I have offended you—”
“The one you ought to be apologizing to is your sister. And then, may I suggest you search inside yourself for the kindhearted girl you were when we were children. She got lost somewhere along the way, and you would do well to find her again.”
For once, Mary was speechless.
“Good day, Miss Gillerford.” He left her there with no more than that.
A short distance down the corridor, he came upon the housemaid who had accompanied them on the drive through Hyde Park. “I am looking for Miss Elizabeth.”
“She’s stepped outside, into the back gardens, sir.”
“Thank you.”
That is precisely where he found her, on a bench in a lonely corner of the manicured gardens, with her head in her hands and her shoulders shaking as she cried. She didn’t look up as he approached, though she must have heard his footsteps.
He sat beside her, unsure what to say.
She spoke first, her voice tremulous. “Can we please pretend this day never happened?”
But the day had been a revelation for him. For his part, he could not wish it undone. He set his arm about her and gently nudged her toward him. After a moment’s uncertainty, she accepted the unspoken offer and turned into his embrace, her face buried in his waistcoat.
Julian rested his head atop hers, marveling that he’d not sooner realized his feelings for Beth.
He’d embraced her and held her hand and sat near her before, and always he’d experienced a rare and almost magical sense of belonging.
But each time, he’d dismissed the feeling as nothing more than the result of their longstanding friendship. How blind he had been.
“I missed you last evening, Beth.” He surprised himself with his own candor. Mary’s words had given him hope and courage. “I am never as happy in anyone’s company as I am in yours. I wish you could have stayed for dinner.”
“Mary ruined that as well,” she said from within his arms.
“What else has Mary ruined, dear? Her words were meant to wound, but they missed their mark.” He stroked her back, wishing she weren’t so miserable.
A gentleman didn’t often pour his heart out.
Doing so whilst his lady love was weeping added an element of worry to the undertaking.
“Do you remember last evening when you asked Damion why I was in such a sour mood?”
She nodded against his chest, still not showing her face.
“Helene invited him with the hope that you and he would develop a fondness for each other.” He still flinched at the idea, despite having reason to believe that Helene’s efforts had been in vain. “That is why I was unhappy.”
“I don’t understand.”
Nothing for it but to make a full confession. “Your sister made a declaration just now. And while I don’t know the truth of it, I should like to make one of my own, if you will allow it.”
She pulled a bit away, enough to look up into his eyes. So much pain, so much misery filled her beloved face.
“Do you still have the handkerchief I gave you yesterday?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not with me.”
With a bit of maneuvering, he managed to fetch a square of linen from his coat pocket without fully releasing her. He gave it to her and allowed her to dab as necessary. Her gaze didn’t leave his face.
“What is it you want to say, Jules?” She looked equal parts hopeful and worried, no doubt matching his own expression.
He brushed away a lingering tear from her face with the pad of his thumb. “I love you, Beth,” he said, diving right to the heart of the matter. “I cannot say with any certainty how long I’ve felt this way. It came on gradually. But it is true. It is real and abiding.”
Beth seemed to be holding her breath.
“Was Mary being truthful? Did she have the right of it?” Now it was his turn to hold his breath.
Her voice was quiet when she answered at last. “I have loved you since I was eight years old. But you have always been meant for Mary. Even when it became apparent that you didn’t share her expectations, it hardly mattered.
I didn’t know who had your devotion, only that your heart would never be mine. ”
He cupped her face, his pulse leaping inside him. “Oh, Beth. It was always yours. I was simply too thickheaded to realize it sooner.”
She closed her eyes, breathing what could only be described as a sigh of relief.
He kissed her, slowly, savoring a moment which had, unbeknownst to him, been a very long time in coming. His Beth, his dear, wonderful Beth. How had he not realized the true state of his heart?
They sat there for a long moment, she in his embrace, as he inwardly shook his head at his own stupidity.
How fortunate he’d been that his idiocy hadn’t cost him her love.
What if she’d grown weary of waiting on him?
What if someone else had captured her heart after he’d inadvertently broken it again and again for years?
“Mary will be unbearable now.” Beth leaned more heavily against him. “Do you suppose she would ever find me if I simply refused to leave the garden?”
He hadn’t thought much about the repercussions of his declaration on her home life. “I’d wager your entire family will be impossible.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Let’s stay out here forever so I never have to face them.”
“I have an even better idea. Let us go pay a call on Helene. I’d wager she’d require little convincing to invite you to stay with her for a few weeks, perhaps even until the end of the Season.”
“Do you think she would?”
He kissed the top of Beth’s head. “I am certain of it. And I could come for Helene’s at-homes, and awkwardly take tea, and attempt to catch your eye.
Robert, I am certain, would enjoy playing the overprotective guardian, demanding to know my intentions and insisting I return you unharmed from every ride in the park. ”
He could feel her laugh, and it did his heart good. She’d been unhappy enough that day for a lifetime.
“It will not, perhaps, be a true debut in Society,” he said. “But I hope it will make up, in a small way, for your lack of a Season.”
“Promise to steal a kiss now and then, despite the watchful eye of my overprotective guardian, and I will consider myself well compensated.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek then settled into his arms once more. “You are the only reason I came to London these past three years. I wanted to see you.”
“I have been so unforgivably dimwitted, Beth.” He held her ever closer. “But I will atone for it. I promise you, I will.”