A Perfect Hero (27 page)

ater that morning, Sebastian climbed the steps to Julianna’s town house. Justin fol
lowed a short time after. They had all bathed and changed; Mrs. MacArthur had laid out a light breakfast in the morning room. It seemed none of them was very hungry, and it wasn’t long be
fore they moved into the sitting room. No one had much to say, but Justin had been particularly quiet; Sebastian and Julianna exchanged a wor
ried look as he preceded them into the sitting room. Julianna sat down next to Sebastian and took a deep breath.

“Well,” she said, “it’s time we talked about Mother, isn’t it? I fear it may be a rather messy situation, at the very least.”

“I fear the family name is about to be dragged
through the muck again, isn’t it?” Sebastian’s face was grim. “We must acknowledge the very real possibility that she may go to prison. I hon
estly cannot imagine how she’ll survive there. But I think we should lend whatever support we can to see that she is defended.”

Julianna ran a fingertip around her teacup. “I think you’re right. She may have abandoned us. But we can hardly abandon
her
at such an hour.”

Sebastian’s regard slid to Justin. “Are we in agreement then?”

For the first time that morning, a genuine smile flirted at the corners of Justin’s mouth. “What, did you think I wouldn’t? She is still our mother.”

“Frankly, I wasn’t sure,” Sebastian admitted. “Mother was always so capricious. So damned impulsive. And Father was ...impossible, wasn’t he? I do not make excuses for what she did, any of it. She wanted to be adored. She wanted to be admired. But she loved us in her way. And per
haps I am a fool, but I ceased judging her years ago. And somehow, regardless of what she may have done now, I cannot believe she is truly evil.”

Justin shook his head. “You’re not a fool, Se
bastian. You are...in a word, the best man I know.”

Sebastian’s smile was crooked. “Thank you.” His smile faded. He searched his brother’s face. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What you said to Mother earlier. About Fa
ther. I always knew something happened ...I just wasn’t sure.” He watched him closely. “You were there the night he died, weren’t you?”

“I was
with
him when he died.”

Sebastian was puzzled. “Why did you never say anything?”

“I blamed myself for his death, Sebastian. For years. Indeed, until I married Arabella. I was ashamed.” He rested his hands on his knees, his hands linked together. “I was young. I was wild. And we’d had that terrible row.”

“About Mother.”

“Yes.”

“I always knew you were the one who hurt the most when Mother left,” Sebastian said softly. “But you never showed it.”

“Before that night,” he confided, his voice very low, “I had never doubted what we’d always been told—that Mother never strayed until after Ju-lianna’s birth. Until we were older ...But after that night with Father”—something crept across his features—“I wondered if it was true.
Was
she unfaithful before we were born? Did Father hate me because my resemblance to Mother was so strong? Or was it because perhaps he was
not
my father at all?”

Listening to him—hearing him—Julianna’s heart began to ache. “Justin,” she said gently, “it wasn’t that he hated you. He punished us because
he couldn’t punish
her
. He simply didn’t know how to love.”

“His life was consumed by bitterness,” Sebast
ian added. “By duty. I don’t believe he ever really knew how to be happy.”

Justin’s features had gone very pensive. “Per
haps you’re right. Perhaps that’s what it was.”

They all sat for a moment, steeped in the whirl
wind of all the day had wrought. Their own pri
vate thoughts—and memories.

It was then that a knock on the door sounded.

Julianna was on her feet immediately. “It’s Dane,” she said urgently.

And so it was. He strode into the room with long, purposeful strides.

“Well,” he said quietly. “It’s over. The situa
tion regarding your mother has been—resolved.”

Julianna’s eyes hadn’t left his figure. “What happened?” she asked. “Did Barnaby decide not to pursue the charges?”

“Not precisely.”

Sebastian looked at his siblings, then at Dane. “What then... precisely?”

Dane chose his words with careful delibera
tion. “How shall I put this? ...I persuaded the guard to allow me to escort her to the magis-trate’s office in his stead. On the way there . . .”

“What are you saying?”

“What I am saying is this. Should I be asked, I should respond that your mother proved a most
resourceful woman. During the transport, she was able to evade my escort and... escape. It was the damnedest thing, really. One minute she was there. The next she was gone.” He paused. “Should I be asked, of course.”

During his speech, Dane looked each of them in the eye, one by one. Julianna stared, along with Justin and Sebastian.
Escape
,hesaid.
Escape.

She set aside her cup. “My word,” she said un
steadily, “are you saying—”

“I might even dare to suggest that she is doubt
less on her way back to France.”

Dear God, he had looked the other way. No, more than that, she realized dimly. He had helped her. He had let her go. Somehow he had helped her
escape
.

It was very clear—not from the words themselves—but from all that lay beneath them.

And in rescuing her, he had rescued all of them—her, Sebastian, and Justin.

Oh, Lord, how she loved him!

“She’ll never be able to return to England, will she?” she asked.

“No.” Dane spoke very quietly. “She would likely be arrested and charged as an accomplice. And in the course of things, her bigamy would probably be revealed as well. But I should like to make it clear . . . What happened with Nigel Roxbury will not go beyond the Prime Minister’s office, and the Home Office. No one need know
what happened with him—and with your mother.”

“So to the world,” Sebastian said slowly, “Daphne Sterling is still dead.”

Dane’s eyes held his. “Yes. No one ever need know any differently.”

“You have our gratitude,” Sebastian said qui
etly.

Julianna tipped her head to the side and ad
dressed her brothers. “We won’t see her again, you know,” she murmured.

“No,” Sebastian agreed. “But that’s all right. She’ll be fine.” A slight smile curved his lips. “I think Mother has established that she is well able to take care of herself.”

Julianna glanced over at Justin. He was sitting on the edge of the settee, one strong wrist resting on his knee. He hadn’t said a word since Dane had entered. His handsome features were half-pained, half-relieved . . .

Julianna’s hand slipped into Dane’s. Lightly he squeezed it, but he didn’t look at her.

Dane cleared his throat. “She asked me to give you this.” Reaching into his jacket, he emerged with a sealed, neatly folded sheet of parchment. “She had a request. She said this letter is for all of you.” He looked at Justin. “But she said you might want to be the first to read it.”

He walked back to the door. “I’ll leave the
three of you alone. I believe this is a family mat
ter.” Quietly, he withdrew.

Justin had accepted the letter gingerly, almost as if he were afraid to take it.

He looked up at Julianna and Sebastian. “My God,” he said in an odd, strangled voice. “You know what this is, don’t you?”

Julianna bit her lip. All at once her throat was achingly tight. This was so uncharacteristic of Justin, who was always so confident. So sure of himself. Never had she seen him so torn!—and somehow the sight wrenched at her insides.

“It seems you’ll have your answer after all.” Sebastian’s tone was bland, his posture com
pletely at ease as he propped an elbow on the chair and folded his big hands in his lap.

Justin looked at him. “Sebastian! Don’t you want to know? Don’t you want to know the truth about our parents? Our father?”

Sebastian shrugged.

Justin’s gaze slid to Julianna.

She gave a tiny shake of her head. “Justin,” she said gently, “it’s not whether
we
want to know. It’s whether
you
want to know.”

Justin rose numbly to his feet, the letter gripped in both hands. “Damn,” he said hoarsely. “Damn! I thought I wanted this. I thought . . .”

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the fireplace. He swallowed. His gaze lowered
slowly, his regard utterly fierce as he stared at the

lump of wax that sealed the letter.

Silence descended.

Both Sebastian and Julianna were keenly aware that Justin was searching. Seeking. Desperately reaching into the deepest corner of his heart . . . his very soul . . .

For an answer only he could find.

They waited—waited forever it seemed!

Turning, Justin bent low. Gently, he pushed a corner of the parchment into the flames, watch
ing as the fire licked along the edge; it smoldered, then suddenly flared high and bright.

Warm, wet tears drizzled down Julianna’s cheeks. Her throat tight, she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

When nothing remained of the letter, Justin turned.

“She was right,” he said very softly. “Mother was right. We had each other, didn’t we? I don’t think I ever realized it in quite the way I do now...But we’re stronger—the three of us— because she was gone. Closer for it—for only having each other. By God, I can’t regret that. And the contents of that letter—no matter
what
it was—could never,
ever
change the way I feel about the two of you.”

He looked at Julianna, his eyes a clear, brilliant green.

“I love you, Jules.” His eyes swung to Sebast
ian. “And you, brother.”

His tone was grave. But he was smiling faintly, a smile that went straight into Julianna’s heart. And then she couldn’t help it. A ragged sound tore from her throat, and she began to sob uncontrollably, her emotions too vast to contain.

Her brothers were beside her immediately, Justin to her right, Sebastian to her left. Justin slid an arm around her. “Jules, don’t cry! It’s all right. It’s never
been
so right.”

“I know. I
know
. That’s just it, don’t you see? And these are happy tears!” She gazed up at him, her smile watery but blindingly sweet. Reaching out, she slipped an arm about both of them.

Justin laughed, the sound rather rusty. Lower
ing his head, he kissed her cheek. “Then may all your tears be happy tears,” he whispered.

When he raised his head, his eyes were misty— and so were Sebastian’s.