Chapter Eight

January 14, 1861

Welwyn Manor

Hertfordshire, England

C hristmas had come and gone with its excitement over his cousin Yule's engagement to Penelope St. Claire, giving Julius the perfect excuse to quit his London digs and return to his grandfather's estate. Ostensibly, the move was to lend support to his cousin in the days leading up to the wedding—something the entire family agreed Yule needed after their cousin Tom almost ruined the proceedings. A mere hiccup, according to Tom, but enough to make their grandfather call on all members of the wager to gather and make sure the wedding went off without a hitch.

This summons suited Julius royally. Appearing in Hertfordshire ahead of the festivities would allow him to continue wooing Lady Augusta. He'd not been able to see her at all during the holidays, so this seemed a God-given opportunity to continue his suit. When he'd discovered that Lord and Lady Tilney had been invited to the wedding and were in fact guests of his grandfather's, nothing could have pleased him more.

To this end, he'd inveigled his brother to travel to Hertfordshire with him for the express purpose not only of bucking up Yule, but of helping Julius figure out the next step in his courtship. They'd scarcely left their parents' townhouse, where Francis still lived, when Julius pounced on his twin.

"Francis, I need your help with something."

His brother gave him a long-suffering look. "You are the one with the courtesy title, an estate in Norfolk, and the larger allowance, Jules. Why would you need my help?"

"Not with money." Julius stared out the window as the fashionable townhouses of Mayfair gave way to shops and various other businesses on their way to the train station. "With Lady Augusta."

His brother, riding in the backward facing seat, leaned forward excitedly. "You don't mean to tell me that you've gotten Lady Augusta to say yes?"

With a sigh, Julius sat back and shook his head. "No, not yet, although my hopes are high for the coming week at Grandfather's."

"Why?"

"Her family will be guests of Grandfather's for the wedding, so I'll have Lady Augusta close to hand." Julius shivered with anticipation. "I was this close, Francis," he held his index finger and thumb up with only a speck of distance between them, "at the Kastners' party. After we went for the sleigh ride, I think if I had proposed, she might actually have accepted me."

"Then why didn't you?" His twin sounded exasperated.

"Because I couldn't be positive her interests in me had changed." Although her reaction to their kiss had been most encouraging. The memory of those erotic moments in the sleigh always made him hard. "It was just a feeling I had and I wasn't about to bet the bank on a feeling."

"You have with every other wager you've ever made." Francis sounded grumpy. He'd lost many a wager to Julius's intuition.

"This was too important to leave up to a feeling ."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that, brother." Francis raised his eyebrows. "But perhaps you are correct. The feeling about your chess game at the Kastners' was anything but accurate."

If looks could only kill, Julius would be a twin no longer. "Her king's knight came out of absolutely nowhere. I swear she'd hidden it somewhere and sprang it on me at the perfect moment."

"So that makes your tally two losses and two draws against her?" His brother grinned gleefully. "No wonder you don't want to trust your feelings. You really should arrange a rematch after the wedding. We'd all love to watch her beat the stuffing out of you again."

"Your entertainment is not my main concern at the moment." If he managed things correctly, he and Lady Augusta could make war over chessboards for the rest of their lives. "I have only one chance, Francis. One more proposal. If she doesn't accept me the next time, she never will. I have to make certain she understands the kind of man I am, the kind of husband I will be."

"Why would she think you would be anything other than the gentleman you have already shown her you are?" Truly puzzled, Francis frowned and cocked his head.

"The lady has reservations about the kind of life I must provide for her. Unlike so many young ladies who are quite literally champing at the bit to become a countess or marchioness, Lady Augusta has told me she eschews that kind of life. If given her choice, she'd marry a gentleman with no title or property who would allow her to roam the world with him."

His brother's face was agog with the news. "She told you that?"

"Not in those words, but the sentiment came across perfectly."

"And you never told me this before?" Francis looked more perturbed than Julius had expected. "Do you not suppose, brother, that this is the reason she refused you so many times?"

That brought Julius up short. Why had that never occurred to him?

"And makes your continued pursuit of her unwise." The concern on his brother's face was genuine. "I know you would not cause harm to the lady intentionally, Jules, but if you manage to persuade her to marry you against her own good judgment, would you not be doing you both a grave disservice?"

That very notion was the thorn in the plan for their life together. One he'd managed to push to the back of his mind in his mad pursuit of the woman he had come to love. Instead of redoubling his efforts, it now occurred to him he should withdraw entirely from his surreptitious courtship of Lady Augusta. Even if she agreed to marry him in the heat of a moment, like the one in the sleigh, would she not come to resent him when she had to eventually take up the official duties of countess? Would an all too brief happiness lead to inevitable dissatisfaction and utter misery?

He stared across the carriage at Francis, a wave of bleakness washing over him. "Have I been mistaken in my pursuit of the lady all along, Francis?"

His brother shifted uncomfortably. "If the lady has told you she does not desire the only kind of life you can offer her, Jules, do you even need to ask that question?"

Stunned, Jules sat staring out the window, seeing only Lady Augusta's beautiful face. How could he have been so blind as to let this happen? If he truly cared for her, he absolutely could not pursue her. His one consolation was that it would be his heart and not the lady's that would bear the brunt of his folly. If she had begun a nascent affection for him, it likely would pass away quickly. And if she did not, in the end, receive an offer from Mr. Burton, he was certain another gentleman existed who would be most willing to take Lady Augusta on the adventure of her dreams, without the encumbrance of a title.

The carriage rolled up to the train station and Julius descended, feeling as though the weight of the world had crashed onto his shoulders. In a daze, he headed for the first-class coach.

As though he understood his brother's turmoil, Francis saw to the loading of their bags, then joined him in the train carriage. "Everything's taken care of, Jules."

"Thank you." Staring out the window at the grimy station walls, Julius sighed then closed his eyes against a world that was no longer kind. The coming week, one he'd so looked forward to, had just become a prospective hell on earth.

*

"Well, Yule and Penelope have reached London without incident." Francis entered the library at Welwyn Manor where Julius had retreated to brood about his decision to cease courting Lady Augusta.

Today had been especially hard for Julius. He'd had to sit and look happy while his cousin married the woman he loved more than anything in the world. Now that Julius had decided he shouldn't marry Lady Augusta, such a joyous event was no longer possible for him. All morning and afternoon, he'd managed to put a good face forward, even when he'd had to laugh and talk with Lady Augusta at the wedding breakfast. That had been excruciating, but Julius had excused himself as quickly as possible and hidden in the study with his cousins the rest of the afternoon. When they'd grown too rowdy, he'd retired to the library, believing his solitude secure there. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"That is good news, brother, although I had no idea we feared for their safety. This is, after all, England during peacetime and the journey a matter of a couple of hours." Julius picked up the volume of Emerson's The Conduct of Life with which he'd attempted to lose himself after coming to the dismal decision not to propose to the lady again.

"Uncle Hugh expressed a doubt they would make the train in Digswell because they left so late." Francis sauntered in and took a seat in the soft brown leather chair opposite Julius. "You know how train schedules run, so there was some trepidation."

"Our cousin is on his wedding trip. He should not be held to a schedule." Julius propped his head on his hand and looked askance at his brother. "Besides, the station at Digswell is only three miles from here."

Francis shrugged. "You know how Uncle Hugh has always been about timetables."

Julius nodded, all too familiar with their uncle's foible. The man couldn't abide the idea of missing a train or ship to the point of obsession. He'd once made his entire family arrive at the train station half a day ahead of time in order to make absolutely certain they did not miss the train to London. Yule had told them this when they were boys and he and Francis had privately marveled that their uncle cared so deeply about such things. Their own father had shown such a lack of interest in punctuality that their mother eventually had to take over all travel arrangements whenever the family traveled together. "Then I'm certain Uncle Hugh is happy now. I've just never understood how he can get so worked up over a train schedule."

"Neither have I." Francis grinned and picked up Julius's book. "I mean, there will always be another train coming along if you miss the first one. What's this you're reading?"

"Ralph Waldo Emerson's book of essays." Julius slumped in his chair. "I was trying to clear my head."

Francis glanced at the tome and shook his head. "And this is the book to do that? I'd have thought Dickens or Trollope, perhaps would have fit the bill better." His brother peered more closely at him. "Are you still upset about your decision regarding Lady Augusta?"

"It's not something I took lightly, Francis." This was exactly why he'd been hiding in the library. He needed time and quiet in order to come to terms with this decision. "I'm very much in love with the lady and now I'm quite certain I'll never be able to marry her." He glared at his brother. "Do you have even an inkling how that feels?"

A smile played around Francis's mouth. "More than you might think, brother."

His brother's serious tone caught Julius's attention and he sat up, interested in something other than his own woes for the first time today. "What do you mean? Does this have to do with the mysterious lady you are secretly courting?" Until Francis had mentioned it in September, he'd not known his brother was interested in anyone. "You've said you have a lady in mind—but that's all you've said. Are you now telling me you've proposed to her and she's refused you?"

Francis sighed, sadness filling his face. "Yes, the lady I told you about before is the one I wish to marry." Francis got a faraway look in his eyes. "She is my rock and my strength when I am despondent. My best companion who never judges or faults me for anything. Quite simply she is the best person I have ever known, besides you, Jules."

Julius sat back, flabbergasted. "I had no idea, Francis. You've said not a word about her since… I still know nothing about her. What is her name? Who is her family?"

Francis paused, then shook his head. "I cannot say more of her. Not yet. I am trying my best, as you did with Lady Augusta, to persuade her to marry me—with as much success. I have managed to keep my life private, because we both wish it. So until she accepts me, I must keep her confidences and her name to myself. But I hope…I pray every day I can find the words to make her change her mind."

"What reason does she give for refusing you?" His brother might not have a title, still his character was unimpeachable and their family linage pristine. Francis was a very eligible parti .

Francis's face turned somber. "It is a matter having to do with her family. I cannot speak of it so I beg you not to ask." His pleading look went to Julius's heart. "I do not know what I shall do if by the time the wager is due, she has still not agreed to marry me, Julius." The agonized misery in his brother's face smote him, as Francis gripped his arm. "I cannot imagine living a single day of my life without her."

Julius patted his brother's arm, and sat back, sorely grieved by Francis's obvious distress. He was totally sympathetic to his brother's plight. At least Francis still lived in hope of persuading his lady to marry him, while Julius had to cease his attempts when he believed himself on the threshold of success with Lady Augusta. Fate was a cruel mistress, no doubt.

"Have you spoken to Lady Augusta?" Francis's voice was hesitant.

"Briefly, at the breakfast. She seemed eager to speak to me and I…I couldn't…" Julius had to stop a moment to get himself in hand. Lady Augusta's surprised expression when he excused himself after exchanging little more than "good afternoons" with each other was like a knife twisted in his heart.

"Perhaps you should find a way to tell her you are ceasing your pursuit." Francis suddenly seemed very interested in the dark-maroon leather covering his chair. "That might make it easier when you meet in public. To end things in a civil manner, so she won't be hurt or offended."

"She already believes I have ceased to court her, or at least, ceased to propose. Still…" That kiss might well have given her the idea that he was still interested in her. Which was true. And was why he'd done it. And if it was the only kiss they would ever share, he'd not be sorry he'd done it. But he should make it clear to her that he would not be renewing his addresses to her. "How can I do that without seeming cold or distant? I can't simply say, ‘Lady Augusta, I will not be attempting to court you anymore.' Less than a month ago I told her I wanted us to be friends."

"Then what can you do to show her you part as friends?" Francis sat with his head leaning on his hand, brows furrowed in thought. "Some kindness?"

"Do you mean give her flowers?" That seemed rather mundane. Julius shook his head. "If I am going to part with Lady Augusta, I want her to at least remember me with fondness until she is a grand old lady. Some sort of grand gesture…"

A memory tugged at Julius's mind. "The cave."

"The cave?" Francis looked up confused, then realization hit him. "Oh, that cave." He cocked his head. "You want to take her to the cave?"

"The lady loves adventure." It was the perfect thing, the perfect place to say goodbye.

"Well, if that is true, then yes, I think it will do the trick." Francis rose. "I wish you luck, brother. When will you arrange the outing?"

"Tomorrow. Now the wedding is over I'm not sure how long Lord Tilney plans to linger." Oddly, Julius felt a lifting of his spirits. Whether it was because he would get to spend another morning with Lady Augusta or because he at last had a plan for what to do, he wasn't certain. But a calmness he'd not felt earlier had descended on him.

"Now that's settled, why don't you let me distract you for a little while? The cousins are getting up a game of billiards. Come play with us. Or just sit and take down all the wagers. That will cheer you up better than Emerson will."

"No thank you, brother. I think I'll stay here a while longer."

"Suit yourself, but you know where we'll be if you change your mind." Francis made his way to the door. "Don't let Emerson get the better of you."

"I won't." Julius sat back in the chair, and picked up his book.

A wave of his hand and Francis quit the room, pulling the door closed with a loud click .

With a sigh, Julius picked up Emerson and thumbed through the volume until he found his place again.

Whatever games are played with us, we must play no games with ourselves, but deal in our privacy with the last honesty and truth .

"Honesty and truth," he muttered. Those were the last things he wanted to admit. Because the honest truth was that he loved Lady Augusta, and likely always would. And because he did, he had to make the heartrending sacrifice of letting her go.