Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

ONE MONTH LATER

A month had slipped by since Julian had rescued Ester from the clutches of the lake. Four weeks had passed since Ester had returned to her father's house in Loughton Grange to help her mother tend to him.

Julian felt strangely naked as he left the familiar byways and shelters of Epping Forest. Rufus, his ever-loyal mount, carried him along a straight road that undulated through a patchwork of meadows and fields. Farmhouses dotted the landscape, their chimneys sending lazy spirals of smoke into the warm afternoon air, a signal of life amidst the rolling green expanse. To his right, a darker range of hills rose, their distant peaks cloaked in a soft, purplish haze. To his left, flat tranquil English countryside with the dark silhouette of Epping in the far distance.

The air carried a lovely warmth of early spring, and Julian wore his finest today—a new top hat perched smartly on his head, paired with a waistcoat of a rich purple brocade, over a crisp, white silk shirt. His cravat, in perfect harmony with the waistcoat, lay knotted impeccably at his throat. And his boots, polished to a gleaming finish by his newly hired footman, Mr. Christopher Harper.

Harper followed at a respectful distance on one of Julian's other steeds. So far, the man had proven himself both humble and capable, even managing to gain the approval of Crammond. Julian had not been easily persuaded to grant the man employment. But Ester, with her quiet and unshakable belief in the goodness of people, had swayed him. It had touched him deeply—how she could still put faith in someone, someone who by all accounts had seemed beyond redemption.

Julian flexed his hands on the reins, the leather slipping slightly between his fingers.

"Does something trouble you, Your Grace?" Harper's voice came from behind, steady and observant.

"Ever attentive, Harper," Julian murmured, not looking back.

"I try my best, Your Grace. It seemed that perhaps you were not… comfortable?"

"I feel bare without my gloves," Julian admitted, his tone laced with a touch of self-mockery. "Your former employer presumably versed you on my prior… fixation."

"He did, Your Grace. Though, I must confess, I hardly believed it."

"And I once believed it wholeheartedly," Julian continued, his tone growing softer, almost reflective. "I convinced myself that one event led inevitably to another—that if something followed, it was caused by what came before. I thought if I touched anyone or anything with my bare hands, calamity would follow. It does seem rather foolish now."

Harper seemed to hesitate. Finally, he built up the courage and said, "Your Grace, if I may speak freely?"

Julian glanced back over his shoulder and gave a curt nod.

"I once believed in my master's actions—when he was squandering your money and his own at the gambling tables, when he sought funds from your good lady. He was my lord, and I never thought to question his behavior or disobey him. I see now how narrow my worldview was."

Julian's gaze lingered on Harper, quietly assessing. He watched as the footman absently stroked his horse's neck, an act of instinctive care. A part of Julian still bristled with the urge to cast the man down—to see him hang for his part in Ester's ordeal. Yet, had it not been for that very ordeal—cruel as it was—Julian would never have met her. From every evil, there seemed to sprout some thread of good.

"I have not worn gloves in a month," Julian began, his voice steady. "Not since Ester helped me see the truth."

"And not since the young Miss placed her faith in me, Your Grace," Harper added quietly. "I shall mark the day for the rest of my life."

A month since Julian had severed ties with his oldest friend. A month of liberation from the curse that had shadowed him since childhood. It occurred to Julian then that it had also been a month since he had taken a direct hand in the management of his investments and business interests. Such matters had always been handled by Kingsley. Now, that tie was severed and Julian understood it wise to manage them himself until he could find someone he trusted.

"How deeply were you involved in Kingsley's finances, Harper?" Julian asked absent-mindedly. "Were you simply his manservant, or did you serve as clerk as well?"

"At first, only a manservant, until his lordship realized that I had an education and a talent for numbers. After that, I became more involved in managing his properties, acting as a sort of estate manager," Harper explained. "It was then that I realized how deep his lordship had fallen into corruption, but by that point, I was bound to him, too deeply to easily untangle myself. To my great shame."

"No shame, man," Julian said gruffly. "I must employ someone in that capacity myself. I make no promises, but if you are as capable as you claim and continue to prove your loyalty…"

He glanced at Harper who had crossed himself and seemed to be uttering a silent prayer. His eyes were closed and his lips moved soundlessly. When he was done, he opened his eyes and colored when he saw Julian watching him.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," Harper spoke, lowering his gaze. "A moment of thanks to the Lord Almighty for my good fortune."

"It has been a long time since I felt the urge to speak to Him," Julian replied, turning his gaze back to the road.

Ahead, perhaps a mile or two distant by his estimations, lay Loughton Grange . Current residence of the Fairchilds, and home to Ester. That thought alone made Julian's mouth dry, made his breath quicken. His hands, no longer as pale as they had been a month ago, tightened on the reins.

This was to be his first visit to Loughton Grange. His first meeting with the Fairchild family, and most significantly, the first time he would see Ester since she had left Theydon Mount to return home four weeks prior.

They had exchanged letters regularly, but Julian had yearned to see her every waking hour. Ester had insisted on maintaining a distance though, maintaining the appearance of respectability. Julian understood all too well the necessity of avoiding even the faintest whisper of scandal. It would render everything he had done and Ester had endured pointless to immerse themselves in scandal now.

The road crested a small rise and reached a junction. To the right, he saw Loughton Grange, nestled in a fold of land a mile distant. It looked to be a modest house of Jacobean design, standing proud amid its park but not in any way ostentatious. Suddenly keen to close the remaining distance as quickly as possible and see Ester, Julian spurred Rufus to a gallop. The road was level and straight, the surface even. Rufus relished the opportunity for speed and flew. Tall hedgerows flashed by him and Julian had to put a hand to his hat to keep it in place.

Loughton Grange loomed larger as he raced towards it, only reining Rufus in as they neared the granite gate posts that separated the road from the graveled drive leading through the park to the front door. Julian patted Rufus' neck as he guided the horse through and up the drive at a canter. The old fears no longer haunted him. While he remained conscious of what he was doing with his hands, as another man might not be, there was no hesitation.

The curse was gone. Had never been. Ester was hale and hearty.

If the curse were real, she would be long since dead.

As Julian approached the house, his heart leaped at the sight of Ester emerging gracefully from a shaded path that wound through the lush park. She was a vision—her white dress, light and airy, clung to her curves in the gentle breeze, while a broad-brimmed hat shaded her honey-glazed eyes and demure smile. A pink sash was tied about her waist and she carried a parasol over one bare shoulder. The sight of her took his breath away, and as Rufus drew up beside her, she glanced up, her lips flashing a radiant smile for the pair of them. Julian couldn't help but return the grin as he swung down from the saddle with a swift, practiced grace, eager to close the remaining distance between them.

"Ester, you have grown even more beautiful since last I saw you, I swear it," Julian said in awe.

A soft, melodic laugh escaped Ester's lips. "Do you truly think so? I cannot see how that could possibly be, but I shall accept your outrageous flattery all the same."

"Please do," Julian grinned boyishly, his gaze never leaving hers. "It is my sworn duty as your devoted suitor for today."

She extended her delicate hand to him, and without hesitation, he took it, lifting it gently to his lips. His kiss was intimate and lingered a touch longer than propriety rendered permissible.

"My father shall have observed your madcap ride along the road and will no doubt be watching us keenly now," Ester's teasing voice broke the spell.

Julian glanced towards the house, seeing no face at the windows. "I did not realize I had an audience."

"Oh yes," she added with a playful smile. "I had the perfect vantage and father misses nothing. But don't worry—he always appreciated a fine display of horsemanship. I daresay, you could not have made a better first impression."

Julian cast another fleeting glance over the frontage of Loughton Grange before returning his gaze to Ester. He could not keep his eyes off her for more than a moment. This meeting had been anticipated with such intensity, yet now that it was here, all he could think of was how much he wished they were back at Theydon Mount—alone, away from prying eyes. His heart pounded fiercely as her flowery scent filled his lungs. Her emerald eyes captured him, reaching into the very depths of his soul, holding him fast. The warmth of her soft fingers entwined in his was a sensation he never wanted to lose. He did not want to let go. Not ever.

Ester's cheeks blossomed with color when his grip firmed, and her lips parted delicately. Julian remembered their afternoon of sin vividly. It haunted his dreams, sleeping and waking. Now, taking in her flushed face, he could not help but recall that same face beneath him. Eyes wide, hands reaching for his, seeking and finding his body. Her memory of breathless moans, pleas for release, the sight of her pale, fragile, naked form. It seared into his mind, a vision he could never forget.

Ester's blush deepened and she bit into her lower lip.

Julian leaned in slightly, his voice hoarse with desire. "I must confess, I was thinking of our time back at Theydon Mount."

Her eyes flickered with something dangerous and delicious, as she whispered, "What a coincidence... so was I."

The sound of hoofbeats announced Harper's arrival. He was not the horseman that his new master was and was red-faced and puffing from the effort of remaining ahorse. The moment between them broke as Ester turned, her lips curving into a soft smile.

"Good day to you Mr. Harper," she greeted warmly. "I hope it is finding you well."

Harper, still catching his breath, nodded gratefully. "Exceedingly well in my new circumstances, thank you, my lady!"

A male voice suddenly hailed them both from the house. Ester had just opened her mouth to speak but now closed it again. She smiled, tight and forced.

"Coming, Papa!" she called back to the man emerging from the house. "I suppose we should introduce you to my father."

Julian narrowed his gaze, following her eyes to the figure limping along the drive toward them. He leaned heavily on the arm of a servant and had a walking cane in his other. A thick blanket fell draped over his shoulders, and his head was bowed beneath thin, fiery red hair that matched his beard. His face was pale, nearly ashen, with the fragility of someone long burdened by illness.

Julian steeled himself, offering his arm to Ester perfunctorily. He felt no little nervousness. This was no ordinary meeting—this was her father, the man whose approval he would need if there was ever to be a future together someday for him and Ester. Taking a deep breath, Julian strode up the drive to meet Lord Kendrick.

"Well met, Your Grace. Welcome to Loughton Grange," Lord Percival Kendrick greeted him, his voice gruff but carrying the weight of authority. "It is not mine, of course. My true lands lie in the north, but for now, I am the current custodian of this place."

"A pleasure, Lord Kendrick," Julian replied with careful formality, extending a respectful bow. "The Grange is a fine estate. You are doing a sterling job as its current custodian. I, too, find myself in a similar position. Custodian of a southern property, though my ancestry lies further in the north."

"Indeed, Windermere, I have gathered. I have, of course, consulted colleagues in the Lords about your lineage," Percival muttered, unabashedly.

Julian's lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile. "Then I am certain they seized the chance to regale you with all the gruesome legends that surround my northern lands."

The old man gave a weak but dismissive wave of his hand. "Bah. They tried to fill my head with that fairytale nonsense. I was a Colonel in the recent dispute with the French, East Cheshire Horse. You can't be taking on a French Lancer with a head full of legends," Percival grumbled.

Julian's smile was sincere. "I am very glad to hear it. I have grown rather weary of the fanciful legends myself. You strike me as a very practical man."

"Papa is," Ester agreed, "always thinking of solutions."

"Ah, yes, and speaking of solutions," Percival interrupted breathily, "I believe I have yourself to thank for remedying the situation that drove us from the north in the first place?"

Julian inclined his head, modestly. "I merely did my part to assist a lady in distress."

"Nonsense!" Percival scoffed, waving his hand again. "You used your influence to rid us of that rogue and his dastardly schemes. And while I doubt we shall be able to return to Cheshire anytime soon, at least my family can sleep soundly, assured the threat of scandal won't follow us here. My lovely daughter Helen—her prospects will not be tainted. Come inside, Your Grace, for that alone, luncheon is merited. My better half is eager to meet you also."

With a nod, Julian fell into step beside Ester, her hand resting lightly on his arm as they followed Lord Kendrick crunching across the gravel drive toward the entrance of Loughton Grange.

For Julian, it should have been a moment of unbridled joy. One in which he gained fresh insights into the woman he had chosen, meeting and winning over her family. Yet, as he walked beside her, a bittersweet pang tugged at Julian's heart. This was more than just a meeting of families. It was the first time since leaving the harsh household of Doctor Hakesmere that he found himself on the cusp of truly belonging .