Chapter 28
Before they confronted Eastclere, Julian needed to hold one conversation.
That with his uncle Charles.
James, always one to have all the information, knew where Charles was staying, and Julian found his uncle in a modest set of rooms in a respectable part of London. He wasn’t staying with the family, which spoke volumes about the rift that still existed.
Charles looked up from his newspaper when Julian entered, surprise evident on his face. “Nephew. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Uncle.” Julian nodded, removing his hat. “I hope I am not interrupting.”
Charles gestured to a chair. “Not at all. Your timing is interesting, however. I was just thinking about your wedding.”
Julian took the offered seat, studying his uncle. Charles had always been the more handsome of the brothers, with a charm that could win over even the most stubborn. But now lines of regret etched his face, and his eyes held a sadness that hadn’t been there before.
“What brings you here?” Charles asked, dispensing with any pleasantries.
“I wanted to speak with you about your relationship with Verity’s aunt, Lady Mabel. About what you asked her to do, and how that has affected both of you.”
Charles sighed and looked down at his hands before meeting Julian’s eyes. “How do you know?”
He didn’t look upset. Just… tired.
“I heard most of what you said to her at the wedding,” Julian said. “I shouldn’t have listened to your conversation, but it was difficult not to. You’ve been carrying this burden for far too long, Uncle. I know the secret is important to keep, but at what cost?”
Charles sighed, setting aside his newspaper. “I’ve made so many mistakes, Julian. I thought I was protecting her by pushing her away. Instead, I destroyed both our lives.”
The raw honesty in his uncle’s voice surprised Julian. This wasn’t the polished, controlled man he remembered from his youth.
“She never married,” Julian said cautiously.
“No.” Charles’s voice cracked. “I hadn’t realized that. I took away her chance at happiness because I was too proud, too stubborn to face the truth.”
“And what truth was that?”
“That I loved her more than I feared my family’s disgrace.” Charles stood, pacing to the window. “Your father and I… we were so concerned with protecting the family name that we never considered what it would cost us. What it would cost me.”
Julian watched his uncle’s back, the tension evident in his shoulders. “Uncle Michael—”
“Your uncle made his choices.” Charles turned, his expression hardening. “He chose to involve himself with Norwood’s treason. I chose to push the woman I loved away. And for what? To protect a family name that turned out not to mean more to me than happiness ever did.”
The room fell silent. Julian thought of Verity, of how close he had come to losing her because of his own secrets and pride.
“Don’t make my mistake, Julian,” Charles said softly. “I watched you with your new wife at the wedding. I saw how you looked at her. Don’t let pride or fear keep you from being honest with her.”
Julian felt a tightness in his chest. “It’s too late for that advice, Uncle. I’ve already made the same mistake. We’re married, that will never change, but I’m not sure that we can return to the same path we were on before.”
“Fix it.” Charles’s voice grew urgent. “Don’t waste fifteen years as I did. Don’t watch her from afar, knowing she’s the one you should have fought for.”
Julian stood, moved by the raw emotion in his uncle’s voice. “She forgave me. But I’m not sure I’ve forgiven myself.”
“Then you’re smarter than I was.” Charles moved closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not too late for you.”
“You’re right,” Julian said, looking him in the eye. “But neither is it too late for you, Uncle.”
And with that, he took his leave, hoping that both of them could find the peace and love they wished for.
* * *
“Your wife isn’t going to like this,” Damon muttered as they tried to blend in with other passersby, making their way to the same shop Julian had entered just a few weeks ago in his quest to find and stop Eastclere.
But today he would find answers to all his questions. He was sure of it.
“Likely not,” Julian agreed grimly, “but my main priority is to keep Verity safe, and it would be much better if I’m able to convince Eastclere this is a bad idea before the women arrive.”
“How did you convince her that you could go alone?”
“I didn’t. I told her I would meet her here, while she accompanied Asher’s wife.”
“Hmm,” was all Damon said, his expression grim as they stopped in front of the door. They exchanged a glance.
“Ready?” Damon said.
Julian nodded. “Let’s put an end to this.”
He was ready to move on with his life. With his marriage.
The bell above the door jingled as Julian pushed it open, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet shop.
The jeweler—Mr. Hendricks—looked up, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Julian and Damon.
Two noblemen weren’t common here. Julian gave him a polite nod, his gaze immediately sweeping the shop.
No Eastclere yet.
“Lord Julian,” Hendricks said, setting down a small tool. So he remembered him. “You’ve returned.”
“I have.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t received any new pieces since your last visit.”
Julian maintained his casual demeanor, though his heart hammered against his ribs. “No matter. We’re actually here to meet someone. Would you mind if we wait?”
Hendricks’ expression flickered with uncertainty, though Julian wasn’t sure if he was remembering his previous questions or aware that his next appointment was someone with unsavory motives that he’d rather Julian not witness. “Of course, my lord.”
Damon, tinkerer that he was, examined a variety of clocks with interest.
Julian positioned himself near a display case of pocket watches so he could see both the front door and the rear entrance.
Damon abandoned his study momentarily to lean against the wall beside him, his posture deceptively relaxed as he ignored Hendricks, who was quite obviously trying not to stare at Damon’s scar.
The minutes dragged by. Julian’s mind kept returning to his conversation with Charles. His uncle’s regrets, his warnings about letting pride destroy what mattered most. Julian couldn’t lose Verity—not over this diamond, not over Eastclere, not over any of it.
A door opened, but without the jingle of the bell, for Lord Eastclere stepped through the back door of the shop, carrying a small leather case. The minute he saw Julian and Damon awaiting him, his face contorted in fury.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the tense silence. “Hendricks, I told you this would be a private meeting.”
“I’m sorry, my lord, they just entered—”
“I think we’re beyond private meetings, Eastclere,” Julian said, keeping his tone light despite the anger boiling beneath his surface. “You’ve been selling pieces of the diamond you claimed was stolen. A crime against the Crown, I believe.”
Eastclere’s eyes narrowed. He was cornered, and they all knew it. Julian had seen cornered animals before—they were always the most dangerous.
Damon moved to block the back door, his scarred face impassive. “Let’s not make this difficult.”
Eastclere clutched the case to his chest. “I will have your heads for this interference.”
“Will you?” Julian asked, his voice dangerously soft. “I think you will be more concerned about explaining why you’re selling pieces of a diamond that’s supposedly missing.”
Eastclere narrowed his eyes at Julian.
“I told you to stay out of this. It is not your business.”
“You are wrong. It became my business the moment my name was tied to the diamond theft, which also threatened the Duke of Ravenscar.”
“There’s an easy way out of this for both of us,” Eastclere said, light entering his eyes.
“You’ve always been a little hard up for cash, haven’t you, Hartford?
I make this sale, and I’ll give you a little piece of it.
No one will ever know what happened—about my involvement, or your own family’s role in hiding the truth of the past. We all come out on top. ”
For a moment—a very brief moment, Julian thought of what he would gain by taking the money. He could return the entirety of Verity’s dowry, and they would have all the fortune they would ever need to move to a bigger townhouse, so they would not have to worry in the future.
But how would he explain it to her? And worse, he would spend the rest of his life knowing what he had done. What it had cost him.
His dignity. His pride. His loyalty.
“No,” he said, shaking his head at Eastclere. “I won’t do it. I cannot.”
He’d find another way to accomplish all of the things he needed to. A way he could feel good about.
The bell jingled again, and Julian’s heart sank as Verity, Evelyn, Asher, Lady Seraphina, and Lady Thalia entered the shop. So much for keeping Verity away from this confrontation.
“Julian,” Verity said, her eyes widening at the scene before her. “You said you would wait for us.”
“I’m sorry, luv,” he replied, not taking his eyes off Eastclere. “I thought it best to secure the situation first.”
“I heard what you said. You denied Eastclere’s offer,” Verity said, blinking at him. He could only hope that she hadn’t realized just how long he had paused when considering it.
“Enough of this,” Eastclere cut through. “I am here to consult with the jewelry dealer—privately. You can have your conversation with him later.”
“We need you to surrender the diamond,” Asher said, his eyes hard on Eastclere.
“You have no proof of any of your accusations,” Eastclere said, though his confidence seemed to waver.
“Actually,” Seraphina stepped forward, her green eyes steady as she considered her guardian, “I have detailed records of every transaction. Names, dates, amounts.”
Eastclere’s face darkened as he turned to her. “You treacherous little—”
“That’s enough,” Asher cut in, his voice like ice. “The diamond has ties to the Crown, Eastclere. Its ownership is, as yet, unclear. You have no right to break it apart and sell it.”