Chapter 18 #2
The countess played several more arias before rising and declaring it time for bed after such long travels. Audrey joined her new kin in the corridor and ascended the stairs, parting from them in the upper hall to return to her chamber.
Julius had not appeared. She wondered where he was but did not yet feel comfortable enough to inquire.
She had not seen him since morning, when they had reached their unsatisfactory accord.
It had been a long day. Her nerves strained from her meeting with the earl, her mind wearied by the accursed German memoirs, and her body ached with exhaustion from a sleepless night.
She longed to see Julius again and to speak with him, yet at the same time, she was relieved to find solitude. To sink into the softness of her pillow and hide from the ache in her heart.
Sleep claimed her swiftly, pulling her into its dark embrace.
Yet even slumber seemed as belligerent in its affection as Julius had been.
Her dreams were troubled—visions of wandering alone through the echoing halls of Stirling, of standing mute in Lady Astley’s drawing room as cruel whispers of scandal twisted her name.
She stood once more in the earl’s study, bracing herself for censure.
And then, as if summoned by longing itself, the one person never present in her dreams called her name.
“Audrey?”
Audrey looked about the study, but Julius was nowhere to be found. It was always the same in her dreams. He was absent while she yearned to see him, to ask where he had been, only to stumble upon him in the arms of some trollop who had stolen his adoration.
“Audrey?”
She wandered into the hall, ignoring the echo of the earl’s stern lecture, calling out softly, her voice catching. No sign of him.
She hesitated for the briefest moment before launching herself up the stairs. She flung open door after door in the family wing. He had to be here somewhere! Surely, he would have informed her if he meant to abandon her so soon
“Audrey?”
Her eyelids fluttered. The dream shifted, her heart pounding as reality nudged at the edges of sleep. A candle flickered somewhere. She was in bed.
She blinked, her eyes dry and gritty. She turned her head and let out a sharp cry.
Julius was crouched beside her bed, his face just inches away.
“Good! You are awake.” He stood, still dressed exactly as he had been at breakfast.
“I am now.” She pulled upright, her voice still raw from sleep. “What are you doing in my room?”
He pressed his lips together. “You do not wish to see me?”
“I … wish to see you,” she said quickly, her fingers clutching at the bedclothes out of habit. Then, realizing the impropriety of the gesture between betrothed, she let them fall. “I am only surprised.”
“I know the hour is late, but I could not wait until morning. I needed to speak with you. I have news.”
A lead weight sank in her stomach. He had found another solution. This was it. He had come to call off their betrothal.
She could barely breathe. All she had needed was time. Time to learn the secrets of Casanova and master a plan to win his heart. It was not fair.
Her eyes filled with tears. A lump formed in her throat.
“Your father’s journals,” he said. “I have found a solution.”
Her breath hitched. Wait—what?
It was exactly as she feared. He had—
“My father’s journals?” she repeated, confused.
He did not wish to retract their betrothal?
“The guild will not budge,” he said, frowning. “I leveraged several members, but they will not allow it.”
“Allow … what?” Her mind reeled. Perhaps she was still dreaming. Perhaps this was a new torment disguised in his voice.
“Your membership.”
Audrey pushed a hand through her braid. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“What? No!” He stepped closer, startled. “Sweet heaven, no! Audrey, listen … what I mean is—” He cut himself off, running a hand over his mouth. “Let me begin again.”
She blinked at him, heart thundering.
He dropped to one knee beside her bed, in urgency. In earnestness.
“I was thinking about how much you wanted to publish your father’s works to help people better understand their health.
I was hoping I could help, but it was to no avail.
Father says he will see what he can do on your behalf, but he does not know anyone at the guild, so he must find a connection that can help. ”
“I … see.” She blinked, still trying to make sense of what he was saying.
It was clear Julius wished to help her. Perhaps he meant to balance the scales after she had risked so much for him.
Yet gratitude was a poor substitute for what she longed for.
She did not desire his obligation. She desired his love.
“When I failed to make progress,” Julius continued, “I reconsidered the problem. You can still treat people. No one will stop you. But that did not solve the problem of your father’s journals that you wish to publish his works.”
Audrey’s heart fluttered, unsure where this was going.
“Father provided me with the names of several physicians whose methods are akin to your father’s. He hopes to persuade one of them to move to Stirling. I sought out each of them this very evening and one, at least, is willing.”
“One of the doctors is moving to Stirling?” she asked, trying to clear the fog of sleep from her mind.
“No. That is Father’s part to arrange. But—listen—I found someone willing to add their name to your father’s research!”
She sat bolt upright, every drowsy thought vanishing in an instant. “What?”
“Dr. Hawley. I showed him one of your father’s journals. As it turns out, he has dabbled in similar theories. He said that if you can assist him in compiling and organizing your father’s work alongside his own, he will publish it and credit your father.”
The words struck hard. Alarmed, she sprang from the bed and hastened to her dressing table, where her valise lay open beside the precious stack of leather-bound volumes. Her gaze swept over them and her breath caught. One was missing.
She turned, pale with alarm. “Where is it?”
Julius’s face pinched in concern. He reached into his coat and withdrew the worn leather-bound notebook. “It is here. Did I … did I make a mistake?”
Audrey stared at the notebook, befuddled. She had panicked when she believed it was gone, but now that she knew it was safe, she was gradually gathering the threads of what Julius was trying to tell her. He was usually more lucid, but the hour was late, and he must be weary after such a long day.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Julius’s face relaxed in relief. “You will like Dr. Hawley. He put me in mind of Dr. Gideon. Indeed, he put me in mind of you. We spoke about the barbaric practices still rife within the field. I told him what you had done for me, and he was most impressed. He examined my sutures and said it was some of the neatest work he had seen. He thought my wound had healed remarkably well.”
Her lips parted, tentatively excited. A discussion with a fellow healer was a tempting prospect, and the idea of securing her father’s legacy stirred something deep and quiet within her. That this Dr. Hawley had not dismissed her skills outright was a promising sign.
“Why did you do this?”
Julius stepped forward, closing the small distance between them. He returned the journal to its place on her table, then shifted to gaze down at her. Reaching out, he tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that robbed her of breath.
“It is my apology,” he murmured.
His nearness made her dizzy. She had yearned to see him all day, and now here he was in her bedchamber, with no one to interrupt.
If she moved just slightly, she could put her arms around him, rest her cheek against his chest, and listen to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.
But it felt ill-advised to appear needy, even if her heart cried out for that very thing.
Instead, she drew a thready breath. “What are you apologizing for?”
“For being a complete dolt.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. And what she saw there astonished her. Julius was gazing at her with such affection, such sincerity, that she could not help the dangerous swell of hope that bloomed in her chest.
“And why do you think you have been a … dolt?” she asked, voice uneven.
“This morning, I proposed to the most ravishing woman in London … and had the temerity to suggest that I might, in future, be tempted by any of the mere mortals treading the earth when I am to marry a veritable goddess.”
Tears threatened, her heart no longer able to contain itself.
“Am I dreaming?” she whispered.
“You are not,” Julius said, his voice firm and clear. “I deeply regret my proposal this morning. It has bothered me every second since. After speaking with Ridley and my parents, I concluded I was fighting my very destiny.”
“Why?” Audrey asked, aware the question was inelegant, yet utterly enthralled by the implication they were fated to be together. “Why were you fighting destiny?”
“I suppose …” Julius exhaled. “I was enjoying our time together, and I feared what would happen if I committed to something more. I did not wish to be trapped in a terse marriage. My parents have been unhappy for many years, so I thought it inevitable that we, too, would grow apart.”
He took her hand and raised it, pressing a brief kiss to her knuckles. “But then I remembered what you said, that I am my own man. I am not my father, and you are not my mother. We can forge our own path. Together. Which is why I would like the opportunity to restate my esteem.”
Audrey swallowed. “Esteem?”
“It would be my great privilege to wed you, Audrey Gideon. Not because of scandal, or because it is the honorable thing to do, but because I want to. I do not wish to offer you a name so I may chase other women. I wish to offer you my name because no one else shall ever carry it. You are the truest soul I have ever met, and I wish to wake by your side for the rest of my days.”
He reached up, tucking another errant lock of hair behind her other ear.
“Fixing your hair,” he added, “listening to you rant about the follies of ignorant medical professionals, and bussing that poor abused lip of yours better after you have nibbled it without mercy.”
She winced, realizing she had been doing exactly that as his gaze dropped to her mouth.
“I … would like that very much,” she whispered.
It was a weak response, perhaps, but Audrey was too overcome to summon better words. Her dreams were coming true.
“We have much to consider,” Julius said. “I do not wish to live in Stirling all year round, but I thought perhaps your work with Dr. Hawley might occupy some of your time?”
Audrey grinned. “We can work something out that is mutually acceptable. So long as you are by my side.”
Julius smiled in return, lowering his head.
“Always, my love,” he promised, before their mouths came together.