A Perfect Hero (18 page)

t was raining, a steady leaden mist so remi
niscent of London in the spring. Swirling gray fog shrouded the chimneys. A sudden gust of wind sent a sheet of raindrops spattering against the windowpanes.

Julianna sat in the sitting room of her London town house. Normally on such a day, she loved nothing more than to sit back and watch the blaze roaring in the fireplace, framed in gleaming rich mahogany, a cup of her favorite blend of steaming, fragrant tea at her side. It was a lovely room, a room that exuded both comfort and ele
gance; she had taken great pains to furnish it, searching the shops for weeks, looking for ex
actly the right pieces. The wainscoting and mold
ings were painted a creamy ivory that contrasted
with the vivid blue of the damask-covered walls. A gilt-framed mirror set off the silk-patterned settee. But today her tea sat cold and untouched, the weather a dismal reflection of her mood.

Perhaps she should redecorate. Something. Anything to take her mind off Dane.

Two weeks had passed since she’d left him. She had resolved not to pine. To regret what might have been.

It was futile.

She had resumed her long-delayed journey to Bath. Her arrival at her home there hadn’t been expected; she gave thanks that her maid Peggy had remained in London. But her anticipation for the country air was extinguished, her urge to linger in Bath vanquished. Chafing restlessly, she returned to London.

During the week she’d been back, she managed to busy herself with her usual activities, with the exception of her social calendar. But the nights spent alone in her bed were desolate.

For when he had come into her life, her world had changed, she thought achingly. Something came alive. Something long dormant. Her hopes and dreams, the ones she’d forsaken, the ones she’d thought dashed the day Thomas had de
serted her.

Why had he kissed her? Touched her? Torn apart her well-guarded heart? Shredded what was left of her intentions? She’d closed off her
heart, but being with Dane had pried her eyes wide open. For years she’d convinced herself she was happy. She had thought she had learned about herself. About what she wanted. What she needed. That it was possible to have one without the other.

But now she wondered achingly if she would ever be happy. How could she? Not now. Not af
ter this. Not after him. It hadn’t hurt like this when Thomas had wed Clarice. Now it was as if a piece of her heart had been chipped away.

A sudden commotion at the front door pulled her gaze from the flames. She moved to the en
trance hall. Framed by an arch, the floor was pat
terned after a chessboard, polished squares of black and white. She watched as her brothers shook off the rain and stomped inside. Mrs. MacArthur, the housekeeper who had been in her employ for nearly three years, ushered them inside.

“Jules!” Justin hailed her. “We were just pass
ing by on our way back from White’s.”

“And here I thought you were simply trying to escape the rain.”

Sebastian bent and gave her a sedate peck on the cheek. “Hello, Jules.”

Mrs. MacArthur straightened her apron. “I’ll bring tea, my lords,” she said brightly.

“Well,” Julianna said dryly, “it appears you’re staying for tea.”

Her brothers followed her into the sitting room. Sebastian took his place at the other end of the settee, while Justin stuffed his long frame in the delicate white chair opposite.

Justin unbuttoned his coat. “Where the devil have you been? Arabella stopped by days ago and was told you’d adjourned to the country for a few days. I thought you’d have been back days ago.”

“Yes, we haven’t seen you in ages.” Sebastian eyed her curiously.

“I decided to stay a little longer. I’ve been home for nearly a week now. I’ve simply cur
tailed my engagements a bit.” It wasn’t an out-and-out lie. Nonetheless, a sliver of guilt shot through her. She wondered what they would say if they knew she’d been in the company of the Magpie. Good Lord. Why, it would sound outrageous—and who would believe her? They’d likely consider her daft—or consider it a jolly good joke. Besides, she’d promised Dane.

It was a vow she would keep.

Mrs. MacArthur returned, sliding a tray onto the table before them. Justin flashed a devastating smile of thanks at the housekeeper, whose cheeks pinkened. The smile was second nature, she knew, but it was the same smile that had so capti
vated many a woman—for many a year. But not, however, his wife, at least not in the beginning; her sister-in-law Arabella had shocked her rakish brother by her failure to be impressed with him.

“Every time you are here,” Julianna said lightly, “I swear Mrs. MacArthur whisks around beaming for days afterward. Perhaps I should ap
prise Arabella you’ve charmed yet another woman?”

“Oh, but there is only one woman in my life. Or rather—two,” he amended. Satisfaction rimmed his smile. Julianna knew he was thinking about his infant daughter.

“And what about me?” Sebastian arched a black brow. “Am I such a troll then?”

Julianna wrinkled her nose toward her dashing eldest brother. “I do know one woman who is quite taken with you.” She paused. “How are the twins?”

“Babbling incessantly.
Moving
incessantly. Devon and I are exhausted by day’s end.” He pulled a face but he fooled no one. He adored his children—and fairly worshipped his wife.

They chatted on for a time. Mrs. MacArthur brought in a selection of tea cakes and tiny fruit tarts. It was Sebastian who noticed Julianna’s un
touched plate.

There was a click as he replaced his cup in the saucer. “What’s troubling you, Jules?” he asked quietly.

Julianna started. She’d grappled for strength these many days. But last night, she’d lost the bat
tle. Images of Dane crowded her mind. The gold of his eyes burning through her brain. His heat
surrounding her...how she longed for it. How she longed for
him
. God, would she ever forget the taste of him? The sleek, heavy texture of his skin? For a time the empty corners of her heart...her life! ...had been full. That only made the emptiness all the more intense. All the harder to bear.

Something had broken inside her. She had turned her face into the pillow and wept. Sleep had not come till the first faint light of dawn col
ored the sky. When she woke, the ravages of the night had left their mark in the shadows beneath her eyes . . .
in
her eyes.

“Nothing,” she denied quickly. “Why ever should you think that?” She took a sip of tea, nearly scalding her tongue.

His brows arose. His gaze traveled pointedly from her untouched plate to her face. “Those are your favorites. You never turn them down.”

“I had a late luncheon,” she lied.

Sebastian studied her. There was a void inside. She tried to hide it, but her brothers knew her too well.

“You look tired, Julianna.”

She lowered her lashes but she’d already borne the brunt of Justin’s sharp-eyed scrutiny as well. “You’re different,” he observed bluntly. “You’ve lost a bit of weight.”

“Yes,” Sebastian agreed. “And your spark is
gone. The sunshine in your voice.” He frowned. “Have you been ill? Out of sorts?”

Julianna’s chest had grown tight. A part of her longed to throw herself in their arms, seek their comfort, for she knew they’d have given it readily and willingly. But she salvaged her composure, shaking her head.

“Not in the slightest,” she pronounced briskly. “It must be the poor light. It’s such a dreary day, isn’t it?”

It was Justin who spoke. “If I didn’t know bet
ter,” he said slowly, “I’d think—” He stopped, his green eyes assessing.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Julianna declared, begin
ning to grow irritated.

“Prove it then,” he challenged. “Come to the Farthingale ball tonight. I’m sure you received an invitation.”

“Unlike you, I can resist a dare.” To think she’d been convinced that marriage had tem
pered his bravado! “Frankly, I’d planned to spend a quiet evening here at home.”

“But surely a night out won’t hurt. And per
haps a nap would be just the thing so you’ll be rested for tonight.”

Now Sebastian had joined in. Julianna ex
pelled a breath. She looked from one to the other. “You’ll harry me until I say yes, won’t you?”

“Never in this world!”

“Jules, you offend me!”

Sweetly, she asked, “Shall I see you out, dear brothers?”

Neither of them moved.

Her lips compressed. She’d never convince them all was aright unless she did as they asked. “Very well then. I shall see you there.”

“Delightful.”

“Devon will be most pleased to see you.”

Julianna rose pointedly.

They finally followed suit. On his feet, Sebas
tian inclined his head toward Justin, his gray eyes agleam. “I congratulate you on your persuasive abilities.”

Justin clicked his heels. “And I thank you for your gracious support.”

Julianna muttered under her breath. Louts, the both of them!

At ten o’clock that evening, Julianna stood on the edge of the Farthingale ballroom. Across the floor, Justin was carrying Arabella’s hand to his lips, making unabashed sheep’s eyes at his wife. At times she was still a little amazed that he was such an adoring husband. Such a devoted father. Along with the rest of the
ton
, she’d once been convinced that her brother Justin was the quin
tessential rogue—the quintessential bachelor.

Her gaze slid to Sebastian, who was waltzing with her sister-in-law, Devon. They were staring
into each other’s eyes as if there were no one in the world but the two of them. The two had dis
closed only tonight that in the autumn, there would be another addition to the Sterling family.

Julianna had hugged them both fiercely, for she truly shared their joy. But now—now a pang bit deep. Julianna did not regret their happiness, nei
ther of her brothers. God knew they deserved it! But was it wrong to feel envious? To want what Sebastian shared with Devon? What Justin had with Arabella?

She sighed. She’d done her duty. She’d put in an appearance. Now she could go home.

But then a whisper snared her attention. Sev
eral women were standing nearby.

“. . . the Magpie!”

Julianna turned her head. The musicians had struck the last chord and were putting aside their instruments. Carefully, she sidled backward be
hind a massive urn of fresh flowers, where she wouldn’t be seen.

“They say he’s very dashing. Very much a gen
tleman. For a highwayman, that is.”

There was an almost wistful tone to the woman’s voice. Julianna couldn’t see her, and thus couldn’t discern her identity. She held her breath, straining to hear.

The other was clearly disapproving. “Dashing! I vow he’s an unscrupulous rascal! Do you know Loretta? Why, she was waylaid by the wretch a
scant three weeks ago! He not only stole her purse, he stole a kiss and fondled her. And with her husband looking on, mind you!”

Julianna saw red. Oh, but she longed to march out and dispute the claim! Frankly, she doubted the woman’s assertion, whoever she was. She wanted to make her presence known and snap that three weeks ago, he’d been with
her,
and in no condition to be pursuing his livelihood. Not only that, but it didn’t sound like Dane to do such a thing with the woman’s husband looking on. A kiss, perhaps . . .
perhaps
. But fondling? Never! Nor had she had seen any purses lying about the cottage—only those bulging sacks of coin.

“I wager he won’t be so dashing when he’s dangling at the end of a rope.”

Julianna felt the blood leave her face.

“What?”

“Didn’t you see this morning’s papers? The price on his head has been doubled. He’ll surely be caught sometime. And the lucky one who chances to catch the rogue and turn him over to the au
thorities will be richer by a considerable sum.”