Chapter 16

"The mind of a human being is formed only of comparisons made in order to examine analogies, and therefore cannot precede the existence of memory."

Giacomo Casanova

Audrey battled mixed emotions, watching from the drawing room window. Julius was to be driven off in Lord Filminster's carriage to visit the vicar Stone, along with two of the Johns disguised as footmen.

She had been awaiting his departure for some time, pacing alone in the room that faced the street below while she tried to sort through her feelings.

On the one hand, it was an immense relief that she did not need to flee the country under a cloud of controversy. Journeying alone to foreign lands was not enticing.

She was a little flattered Julius had sufficient appreciation for her to give up any aspect of his freedoms to offer her marriage. It had been unexpected, to say the least.

Acknowledging these truths did not change the fact that she was seething with unspoken resentments. Audrey had no desire for the type of marriage Julius had proposed. The offer of a babe was appreciated, but the rest!

Nay! It will not do at all!

If they were to be married, she wanted it to be a genuine partnership. The kind of partnership she had envisioned he would one day share with a wife by his side. She wanted to accompany him on his adventures, visit hitherto unplanned places, and build a family of wayward souls like that of her future husband.

She would not be discarded to rusticate in Stirling while her husband decided whether he could forgo other women!

It was sort of laudable that he intended to be candid about the whole thing, but … but … he wanted to have his wife and unfettered freedom. That was untenable! Did Julius have no notion what a marriage was?

That brought her to a sudden halt.

It was possible he had some odd ideas on the subject. Audrey was herself, by society standards, considered of the lower gentry. Her father had been a physician and landowner, and they resided in the countryside, where the values of a husband and wife differed from these high society types. She believed Lord and Lady Stirling might be estranged. Audrey had not seen the countess or her daughter in some time—a minimum of three or four years since either of them had visited Stirling.

Perhaps this outrageous plan to inform her of his possible intent to wander off with paramours had something to do with whatever arrangement his parents had? She could not be certain, but Julius had implied strained relations between him and his father. She had overheard them quarrel since arriving in London.

Audrey leaned a knee on a settee beneath one of the street-facing windows, nibbling on her lip as she craned her neck forward to see if the carriage had yet left. Two cloaked figures exited below, crossing to mount the waiting steps. The Johns unhooked the steps to put them away, then shut the door to take their places. Their demeanor was watchful, observing the surrounding street with sharp concentration while they went about their duties.

The carriage rolled forward and soon turned the corner to disappear. It was all the cue Audrey needed.

She and Julius had reached a temporary agreement at best. If they were to marry, Audrey had the chance to seduce Julius into a genuine marriage like the one she had imagined for him during their time at Lady Hays's.

But Audrey was not a skilled temptress who knew the art of beguiling men. She was a young country lass from a small village. Until very recently, she had been a maiden. This did not prepare her for what lay ahead—seducing her future husband into loving her.

The one skill she possessed was her ability to study and diagnose the ills that plagued a person. In order to do that, she needed to understand Julius.

Rising from the settee, she made for the door. Asking Julius what he was about would not reveal much. He would prevaricate if she tried to pry his justifications from him. One thing was evident about the unique individual he was—Julius was intensely private about himself. He showed one face to the world with his foppish garments and glib charms, but she knew there was a keen and calculating intelligence behind the mask he presented.

Julius had his reasons to evade a true meeting of the minds, but she would not be so easily cast aside. The past few days had proven the gentleman was loyal to his friends whom he must love dearly. She needed to tap into that loyalty if she wished to maneuver him into a happy marriage. Since he had proposed, she had concluded, he was now hers and hers alone. Audrey had every intention of holding on to him.

She knew of one person who might be privy to his guarded thoughts. The man whom Julius had implied he admired above all others. And Audrey knew of one place she might find that man—Casanova's memoirs would be in his bedchamber, and she was going to read them. Within those pages would be the clue to persuading her betrothed. It was time to employ strategy to forge the path she wished to walk with him.

Julius drummedhis fingers on his knee, watching through the carriage window as they drove through the busy London streets. His thoughts were on Audrey—again.

He did not wish to be the sort who wed and kept mistresses. Such behavior had always been repulsive to him. For all the faults of his parents' marriage, they had never engaged in such contemptible activities. He knew this because he had investigated it for himself. If Lord Snarling had kept a mistress, Julius would have found out about it by now.

For some reason Julius could not fathom, the situation with Audrey had brought up memories he did not wish to recall.

He had returned from his Grand Tour three years earlier, feeling worse for wear from his Channel crossing. Reaching his father's townhouse, Julius had been looking forward to reuniting with his mother and sister. He had always had a close relationship with Lady Smiling, and being gone for such an extended time from his family had been difficult. Letters from his mother had kept him informed of developments over the years, and he had kept all of them in his trunk, rereading them when homesickness had occupied his mind.

Little Penelope would be more grown than the little girl he had left behind to complete his education.

Lord Snarling would be ever more distant than he had been when Julius had left.

Lady Smiling would be vivacious and welcome him home with a cup of tea and conversation.

Except … Julius had reached home, bursting in to seek his mother and sister only to find that Lord Snarling was off to the Continent on Crown business. Nothing unexpected there. What had been a surprise was to learn from the butler, whom Julius had not previously met, that his mother and his sister had left for Paris two months earlier and not returned.

Julius had been flabbergasted, writing to his mother at his uncle's home to clarify why she was still in Paris. He had received a cheerful note in response that she would be remaining for a while yet. She was enjoying her time with her brother, who was attached to the embassy there, and Penelope's French was improving. Julius was not fooled. The note did not ring true, and he had known his mother was deflecting.

Subsequently, he had written frequent letters to urge his mother to come home. After several months, it became clear that Lady Smiling was not returning, and so Julius had buried himself in his pursuits. The gradual decline of his parents' marriage over the years had always been frustrating to witness, something which had infuriated him as a youth, but this development had affected him more than he cared to admit. It had been the final straw, leading to his vow to never wed.

Marriage is naught but an unhappy trap.

It was ridiculous that he could not board a ship to visit with his family, and he had attempted to do so twice, but his stomach had roiled at even the mild sway in the docks and he had quickly disembarked. Another crossing was an impossibility. He had cast up his accounts too many times before. The mere idea of boarding made him feel nauseated in the pit of his stomach.

Perhaps Audrey knows of a remedy?

Julius growled at the errant thought.

"Have you offered to marry her?" Brendan was watching him from across the vehicle.

"What?"

"Miss Gideon. That is what you are chewing on, is it not?"

Julius frowned. He did not wish to have his mind read. In fact, he had always gone to great lengths to be inscrutable.

"Why do you say that?"

Brendan shrugged. "I know of one subject that stirs my emotions to that degree. My wife. Her happiness. Her safety. How she will react to something I have done. Your expression was not typical."

"I informed her we will wed."

Brendan made a snorting sound. "And how did she respond to that?"

"Uh … she initially turned me down."

Brendan's lips quivered with suppressed laughter. "You were forced to persuade her?"

Julius shifted, uncomfortable to admit what had happened. "I was. And I did."

The baron leaned forward, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What precisely did you offer the young lady?"

Julius dropped his gaze to his gloved hand, his fingers still drumming on his knee. Looking back up, he realized he was revealing his tension. Julius was not someone who shared his problems with his friends, preferring to distract rather than expose his vulnerabilities. He rolled his shoulders and decided to try a fresh approach.

"Miss Gideon received a letter from that ghastly Lady Astley and was distraught, so I offered to marry her, which she declined. She did not wish to trap me and was thinking of leaving the realm to escape the gossip!"

Julius clenched his teeth, realizing he had given away much with the frantic tone of the last words.

Brendan cleared his throat. "And leaving the realm—that would be a bad thing?"

Julius raised his head to glare at his friend. "Yes!"

"Why?"

He continued to glare while trying to find an explanation. "Because …" An explanation did not arrive.

Brendan arched an eyebrow, awaiting his reply.

"Because I am responsible for the damage to her reputation."

His friend gave a hollow laugh, averting his gaze to the front window of the carriage. "I recall being a complete arse when I proposed to Lily. I even accused her of providing me with an alibi to trap me in marriage. It was not my finest hour."

Julius could not help himself—he winced. Brendan must have noticed within his peripheral vision, snapping his gaze back. "What did you do?" he demanded.

Julius squirmed like an errant schoolboy in his seat. "I may have … told her it was a marriage in name only."

"Which means what, exactly?"

Julius found the signet ring on his finger, awkwardly twisting it through the fabric of his glove in determined agitation. "I told her I could not promise I would not pursue other women in the future."

Brendan groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "You fool!"

"I do not know! I might. It was best to be direct and leave my options open."

His friend groaned again. "Julius … it is time for you to grow up!"

"I never planned to marry! At least I am offering her the protection of my name. She will have her independence to pursue her goals." Julius defended himself, even while appalled at how he was handling the situation. But Brendan did not understand how the idea of marriage made him cold with dread. It was futile to attempt an explanation.

The carriage drew to a halt, and Julius peered out to find they had stopped in front of the vicarage. Flinging the door open, he jumped down to the roadway without waiting for the steps to be put in place. He needed to walk away before he confessed his reservations about the arrangement he had suggested. There was nothing to be gained by discussing his muddle, and discussing any of it had been a mistake.

Leaping from the carriage had been dramatic, but impractical. He was forced to wait on the street for Brendan to disembark. Neither of them spoke. Brendan appeared to have something he wished to say, but his lips remained sealed while they approached the vicarage door.

Julius used the knocker to announce them. After a minute or two, the door swung open to reveal a buxom housekeeper of advanced years.

"May I help you?"

Brendan gave a bow, presenting his card. "Please inform Mr. Stone that Lord Filminster and Lord Trafford wish to meet with him."

The housekeeper's watery vision flickered with surprise, and she dropped into a hasty curtsy, clearly not used to such esteemed guests. "Milords."

She scurried down the hall, returning a few minutes later. "Please, milords, come this way."

They were shown into the study, which was packed with books and overstuffed chairs. Vestments were hanging behind the door, while Stone's weighty form was dressed in a dark gray coat with long tails. His breeches were an even darker gray, and his calves were covered in black stockings. The vestments were favorable, in Julius's estimation, in that they would forgive the rounded form they concealed. In his early fifties, Stone had a wide face, bulbous nose, and a full shock of white hair.

Julius watched him carefully, but Stone did not seem alarmed by their presence. The killer would know who Julius and Brendan were, so would be guarded if surprised by a visit from them.

Stone bobbed his head in quick bows, his expression amiable if perplexed. "Lord Filminster, Lord Trafford, welcome."

"Mr. Stone, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Julius considered the vicar while they took their seats at his desk. He was hearty and had enjoyed too many biscuits and cake visiting his parish, but there were no signs of strain regarding their visit. After a few minutes of preamble, Julius leaned forward.

"We have been most impressed with what we hear about your parish. Lord Filminster and I are here to make a donation to your church."

Brendan smiled. "Indeed. I have instructed my man of business to do so."

Stone blinked in surprise before clapping his hands in gratitude. "That is wonderful news, milords. The church is always in need of repairs."

Julius nodded, observing with attention. "We hear that you have a most esteemed connection. Is it true that your brother is Lord Harlyn?"

Stone smiled, revealing a full set of slightly yellowed teeth. "Indeed, Lord Harlyn is a patron of our little church here in London."

Brendan chatted about Harlyn and the Stone family roots in Cornwall for several minutes until steering to the purpose of their visit. "Were you so fortunate as to attend the coronation in July with your brother?"

The vicar shook his head. "Oh, no! That would have been a fine event to attend, but my brother could not procure an additional invitation. No, I am afraid we had a bereaved family in our parish that day. My wife and I attended them well into the night. Sad business."

Julius set his face into sympathetic lines, despite the triumph he felt. Now that they were confident in approaching Stone and Montague directly, it was going to be short work ruling them out so the investigation could focus on Simon Scott.

"That is terrible news. Is there something we can do to assist?"

Stone gave them an account of the merchant who had passed, and the wife and children he had left behind. It was, as he had stated, a sad affair. Brendan was quick to state that they would like to visit and deliver their condolences. Having secured the name and address of the alibi, Brendan and Julius bade Stone farewell with a promise that the donation would be delivered to the church within the coming days. It would be simple to confirm the vicar's presence the night of the coronation with the family he provided solace to.

They returned to the carriage, setting off to pay a call to Montague. Brendan placed his beaver on the bench seat beside him, pulling off a glove to rake his hair, a sure sign he was uncomfortable about what he wished to say.

"Julius … are you certain about this arrangement with Miss Gideon? She is a beautiful and competent young lady. Considering you will be wed, would she not make a good wife?"

Julius stared out the window at the passing traffic. He had been afraid Brendan might return to the subject. It was rare that he and his friends discussed such private issues, but Brendan was besotted with the delicate Lily since they had wed. "I do not wish to be wed."

Brendan sighed. "Why are you marrying her? You must care about what happens to her?"

He could not answer that question, even to himself. The idea of marriage filled him with dread. The thought of Audrey leaving England made him want to howl. Reconciling these conflicting emotions was proving impossible.

"I must protect her," was the reply Julius could give. They fell into a deep silence; the sounds of people and vehicles in the street outside, wheels hitting the beaten earth, filled in for any further conversation until they reached their destination.

Montague was fortuitously in, and they made their excuses for meeting. This time it was not quite so easy to ascertain where he had been on the night of the coronation, Montague being rather evasive, so they left without settling it. Discussing it on the way back to the Stirling townhouse, they agreed the man appeared to be more embarrassed than defensive about it. Brendan suggested that two runners working on the investigation might pay a visit to the physician's surgery. One could distract the doctor while the other took a peek at the accounts book which would list the specifics of Montague's visits for billing.

Perhaps Montague had received the same barbaric blistering treatment that Audrey had declared would incapacitate him. It would account for his unwillingness to discuss it. If that was the case, they could rule him out. It was unlikely Montague would have visited Ridley House at midnight to bludgeon the late baron if he were covered in painful blisters.

Now that matters were almost settled, and it was days until they confronted Simon Scott with his murderous deeds, Julius had nothing to distract him from the problem of his wretched betrothal. He wished he and Audrey could return to Aunty Gertrude's. Their time together had been genuinely diverting—the most fun he had in years. It had been far simpler when expectations and scandal had not imposed on their intriguing new alliance. He wished he could seek Audrey out to kiss her soft mouth, but he doubted such advances would be welcome after his dreadful proposal.