Chapter 20
Julian needed help, and it took him a moment to figure out just who to turn to.
His brother would want what was best for his family.
His uncle could no longer be trusted.
Asher was biased because of his marriage to Evelyn.
Most of his other acquaintances were not close enough for him to ever consider sharing something as intimate as he needed to share.
There was only one man he could think of who could help him. A man who he had been close enough to at one time to understand him, a man who would never share his secrets. A man who would carefully consider his dilemma and all of the implications, and give him very honest advice.
Lord Greymoor—Damon Ashby.
Son of a viscount, he had been friends with Julian and Asher in their youth. He had been too much of a perfectionist to follow along with all of their schemes, but he’d been interested in having some fun from time to time.
Until an accident had changed everything, leaving both visible and invisible scars that had only led to his withdrawing from society’s unkind scrutiny.
Now, he was something of a recluse, coming out only for events such as masquerades or in the dark shadows of night, where his scars were not particularly obvious.
Julian and Asher both visited him time and again, although not nearly as much as they should have.
Julian just wished that Damon would see that he shouldn’t care what anyone else thought—but Damon would do as he pleased, with no regard for Julian’s opinion.
Damon’s butler, one of the two servants in his small townhouse, led Julian into what once had been a back parlor but now served as Damon’s workshop.
Tables were set throughout the room, every surface littered with a multitude of mechanical objects—clocks, gadgets, wheels, all of the little pieces that Damon had taken apart with what Julian assumed was the purpose of putting them back together again, although how he would go about doing so, Julian had no idea.
“Lord Greymoor, there you are,” he said, taking a few steps into the room, careful not to disturb anything. While the pile of items appeared random, Julian knew that Damon would have a precise organizational system, knowing where each piece was and what its purpose was.
“Julian,” Damon greeted him, not looking up from his place in the corner. He sat in front of his workspace, using a small instrument to slowly, carefully, turn a screw into the item he was working on. “What brings you here?”
“Do I need an excuse to come see my friend?”
“No, but you always have a reason. Usually, to try to convince me to attend some event or another with you.”
“That’s true,” Julian conceded. “But I will not bother you with any of that today, although you know that you are always welcome to accompany me to any outing, whether it be one society would consider proper or not.”
“Thank you, Julian.”
Damon actually used to be much chattier than he was now. Julian remembered those days fondly.
“I came for another purpose, actually,” Julian said slowly, taking a seat on a stool resting between two of the other tables. “I came for some advice.”
That captured Damon’s attention. He lifted his head and slid his glasses down his nose.
“From me?”
“You are rather good at dispensing it, even if you’d never take any from someone else,” Julian said, and Damon nodded.
“True.”
He set down the piece he was working on and leaned back, crossing his arms over his beefy chest. Julian hardly noticed his scar anymore, as it had just become a part of his friend now.
“So? What is this life-altering advice you need?”
“I never said it was life-altering.”
“Is it?”
“Somewhat.”
Damon just sat there, waiting patiently. He knew Julian well enough to know he’d get to the point eventually.
“It’s about a woman,” Julian began, and Damon nodded, scratching the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.
“I figured it would be a woman or gambling.”
“It is somewhat both.”
Damon nodded. He might be judging him, but at least he didn’t make him feel like an idiot for it.
“It all started with a diamond theft,” he began, and Damon leaned forward, suddenly much more interested.
Julian recounted the story, giving him a brief overview of the diamond initially being stolen from Lord Eastclere, of Evelyn determining who the culprit was and why Lord Norwood had been after the diamond, and of the theft of the diamond once more from Asher’s possession.
He glossed over the details of why he had wanted to see the letters Verity possessed, telling Damon that he was simply interested in investigating to help Asher. Damon narrowed his eyes as if he guessed that Julian was lying, but he didn’t comment upon it, allowing him to continue.
Julian then told him of Verity’s proposal—to show him the letters if he would teach her the art of flirtation.
Damon finally interjected.
“That’s when you just couldn’t help yourself.”
“Correct,” Julian sighed. “I’ve always been a sucker for a challenge, and this one sounded rather fun. But then I discovered something else. Do you remember the woman in purple at the masquerade?”
“Of course. I danced with her. Everyone was talking about her, and as far as I know, no one ever discovered her identity.”
Somehow, Damon always seemed to keep up on society gossip, despite hardly ever leaving his house.
“She was Verity.”
Damon had been leaning back in his chair, and now fell forward, the front two legs of his chair crashing into the ground.
“What? Lady Verity? Daughter of Lord Camden?”
“She’s the one.”
“I would never have guessed.”
“Neither did I,” Julian admitted. “In fact, it took me far longer than it should have to realize it was her.”
“How did you come to the realization?”
“I kissed her.”
“Lady Verity? Or the woman in purple?”
“Both. That’s how I realized it was her. Well, that, and she made the same gesture as Lady Verity that she had as the lady in purple. It all clicked into place, but I certainly felt a fool, especially considering that her eyes are the most unusual shade.”
“That is something, Julian. And now?”
“Well, in the meantime, she used the flirtation skills I taught her to try to become closer to Lord Eastclere, in order to discover information about the diamond. He’s fallen on some hard times, you see, and we think he might be trying to receive the value of the diamond instead.
Because of the diamond’s history, it might otherwise return to the Crown. ”
“What does that matter?”
“The diamond was in Asher’s possession. He could be blamed for the loss.”
“I see.”
“To make matters worse, now Eastclere wants to marry her. Again. Apparently, she turned him down the first time he asked a few years ago.”
Damon was shaking his head. “Let me guess. The idea doesn’t sit well with you.”
“No. But what am I supposed to do about it?”
Damon stood and began pacing back and forth, but did so slowly, contemplatively. He stopped for a moment to stare at Julian and direct a question his way.
“Why do you care so much?”
“I suppose because Verity and I have become friends. She doesn’t seem particularly inclined to marry Eastclere, and I don’t want to see her hurt.
I also don’t like the idea of a man marrying her for her dowry, which is exactly why Eastclere is interested.
She deserves someone who will marry her for her, who will give her all the care and affection she should receive. ”
“You feel nothing more than friendship for her?”
Julian closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back to that night they shared together. Of what it was like to touch her, of what she had done for him, and how much he truly wanted to do it all again.
“I… I suppose I feel desire for her. And affection.”
“So why can you not be the man for her?”
“No,” Julian immediately shook his head. “I cannot. You know me, Damon. I’m not that man.”
“Why not?”
“I saw how my father has always treated my mother, the same as my grandfather did my grandmother before him. They lived their lives as they chose, and their wives were left to take care of the house and the children, but were also… cast aside, I suppose. Ignored. I know that’s often the way, but I always vowed to never make another feel as my mother did. ”
“Your brother is married, and he seems to treat his wife with a great deal of respect.”
“He does. I’ll give James that. But I don’t want to be like my brother and sit at home every night, reading by the fireplace. That would bring me no joy.”
“So you choose to be single instead.”
“Correct.”
“And meanwhile Lady Verity…”
“Is in my life for now, and I want to protect her and be there for her, and show her fun. But I cannot marry her.”
Damon studied him carefully.
“Do you know for certain that she doesn’t want the same as you? To live a life of social engagements and fun and pranks and whatever else you do?”
“She is much more respectable than I am.”
“Yet she dressed up as someone else and was the center of attention at a masquerade.”
Julian had no response to that.
“I know you don’t like Eastclere,” Damon continued. “But what if someone else courted—or married—Lady Verity? What if I did?”
“Since when do you have any interest?” Julian asked, his fists tightening and his blood boiling at the thought. “I—”
Damon started laughing, holding up his hands. “I have no interest in Lady Verity. I hardly know the girl. But I think I have my answer.” He leaned forward. “You’re in love with her.”
“I am not!” Julian blustered, gaping.
“Are you certain about that?”
“Of course I… I…” Dear God. He was not certain.
He had never thought himself capable of love, but with Verity…
He considered her smile. What she looked like when she was happy, when she was upset, how he wanted to keep that smile on her face and be the one to solve all of her problems, to learn about her good days, to be there for her bad days.
“I think I just might be,” he practically whispered, and Damon grinned, the scar in his cheek slicing through the right side of his face.
“You have your answer, then,” he said, putting his glasses back on and picking up his tools. “Looks like you didn’t need me after all. You knew the way forward the whole time.”
Julian left Damon’s in something of a daze. He had been looking for advice, yes, but he had never thought he would be walking away, considering making a decision he had always promised himself he would avoid.
Did he truly love Verity?
He felt more for her than he ever had for any other woman, that was certain, and yet…
There was still the problem of the secret between them.
The one that he hadn’t told Damon about, that he hadn’t told anyone about.
Only his brother knew—and Uncle Charles, it seemed.
Which meant that the mysterious letter writer in Verity’s family might have been privy to the very scheme his own family had employed to bury the treachery.
Julian was well aware that if Verity discovered the identity of the letter writer, she might find out what he was hiding from her and hate him forever.
Before, he wouldn’t have cared if a woman had written him off.
But with Verity, he did.
Everything was different with her.
And he had to decide what to do about that—before it was too late and the decision was taken away from him entirely.