Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (36 page)

He wanted to forgive her. His heart and his head told him it would be a simple thing to do. His pride wasn't so convinced.

Some time later Julian emerged from his chamber, feeling much better for being clean and dressed in fresh clothes. He wore a dark green coat that his valet swore put color in his cheeks and diminished the circles under his eyes. Julian didn't care what the hell it did just as long as it made him look better.

Sophia wasn't in the breakfast room when he sat down and forced himself to eat some breakfast.

"Lady Wolfram has not come down yet, my lord," Fielding informed him as he filled Julian's cup with hot coffee. "Shall I have one of the maids check on her?"

Julian shook his head. "Let her rest." He didn't want her to see him like this.

After eating, he went to his study. Despite all he had to do, he did nothing but stand and stare at the chair she'd slept in.

This was ridiculous. He had to stop mooning over her like some love-struck youth. Rest assured she wasn't pining over him.

He had just sat down at his desk when a sharp rap on the door made him wince. His headache had eased considerably, but it still felt as though Gentleman Jackson himself were pounding on his brain.

"There is a Mr. Francis here to see you, my lord," Fielding informed him.

Julian's heart leapt with hope. Had Francis news for him then?

"Send him in, please, Fielding."

A few moments later Francis entered the study looking for all the world like a prosperous merchant rather than a man who made his living prying into the affairs of others. Julian didn't care how the man presented himself— he could walk around in ladies' undergarments for all Julian cared, so long as he uncovered just where the hell Letitia had gone.

"Mr. Francis," Julian said, standing. He offered his hand. "I hope you have news for me."

"Lord Wolfram." The heavier man took the offered handshake. "I do."

Gesturing to a chair in front of the desk, Julian re-seated himself and waited for Mr. Francis to get to the point.

He did not have to wait long.

"Your sister and her companion seem to indeed be bound for Gretna Green, Lord Wolfram."

Julian was hardly surprised by the information, but what did surprise him was that Francis had discovered it so quickly. Letitia and Wesley wouldn't be anywhere near Scotland yet.

As if hearing his unspoken question, Mr. Francis elaborated, "I tracked them to an inn north of Bedford late last night. One of their horses threw a shoe and they were forced to stop. Apparently they are traveling as brother and sister— with separate rooms."

Julian found that little piece of information vastly relieving.

"They had not left the inn as of six o'clock this morning," the investigator also informed him. "On horseback you might be able to catch up with them by late evening, early tomorrow morning."

Julian had every intention of doing just that. As soon as Mr. Francis left, he penned a note to Gabriel and a note to Brave, asking them to come immediately. He gave them to a footman to deliver and ran upstairs to pack a small bag to take on his journey. A clean shirt and undergarments would be all he would need.

Before the end of the day he would have stopped his sister from making the biggest mistake of her life. He could only hope she would forgive him for it.

"What can we do to help?"

It was the first thing out of Brave's mouth when Julian told him and Gabriel that Mr. Francis had found Letitia and Wesley. It would be Gabriel who would want to know the particulars— Brave just wanted to know what to do. Perhaps that was because he had once held himself responsible for Miranda's death.

"The two of you need to make certain no one realizes how odd my sudden departure from town is," he told them, putting papers away in his desk and locking the drawers.

"We can do that," Gabriel answered. "It shouldn't be too difficult. You are traveling north. We will simply say you had urgent estate business to attend to in Yorkshire."

Yorkshire. Julian froze. What if Letitia and Wesley weren't headed for Gretna Green as Mr. Francis suspected? Letitia's intelligence might be questionable at times, but the girl wasn't stupid, and she was sneakier than she should be. She would have to know that Julian would chase after them. She knew him too well to suspect otherwise. She would also know that Gretna Green would be his first assumption.

But what if they weren't going to Scotland?

It all made sense now. Letitia had left the house with Wesley not even twenty minutes after leaving Julian yesterday morning. How had she managed to pack so quickly? For that matter, how had they made the decision to elope, written a note, retrieved Letitia's belongings and Wesley's own before setting off? Such things could not be rushed, and Fielding said both of them seemed so calm when they left— not in the least bit hurried.

They'd had it planned. That was the only explanation. All Letitia had to do was run up to her room, stuff a few essentials into her already packed valise, retrieve the note she had written— probably the night before just to be safe— and go back downstairs to where Wesley waited. His own belongings were already stored in his waiting carriage.

No doubt a special license among them.

"Damnation," Julian muttered.

Gabriel's gaze narrowed. "What is it?"

Julian's gaze went from him to Brave. "They are not going to Gretna."

Understanding dawned in Brave's dark eyes. "You think they are going to Heatherington."

Julian nodded. Heatherington Park was his Yorkshire estate. The place where Miranda had committed suicide. Letitia hadn't been there in years. Normally it would be the last place Julian would think to look for her. She knew it as well as he did.

He walked across the room to the bookcase and hid the key to his desk underneath a volume of Rochester. No one but he ever read it.

"I would also ask that the two of you take care of Sophia while I am gone."

Gabriel and Brave's expressions softened and a shard of uncertainty pricked Julian's heart. He didn't want their pity, and he certainly didn't need to be second-guessing his own actions right now.

"Have you spoken to her?" Brave asked.

Julian shook his head. "No. I will do that when I get back."

Gabriel folded his arms across the breadth of his chest. "You should do it before you go."

"I do not have time," he replied gruffly. "I have to go after Letitia. She is all I have left."

Gabriel corrected him. "You have Sophia."

It was a well-aimed dig— one that struck Julian right between the ribs, somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.

"Yes," he scoffed. "A wife who does not trust me. It is not much of a marriage, is it?"

Brave shrugged. "Mine wasn't either at first. Both of you know I had my own reasons for marrying Rachel. But you love Sophia. You always have."

Julian didn't bother to argue his feelings. "What good does that do me when she keeps secrets from me?"

"Oh, I don't know," Gabriel replied lightly, a smug smile on his face. "Lilith and I kept our share of secrets from each other at first and we loved each other. I think we turned out all right."

His gaze darting from one friend to the other, Julian despised them both at that moment, but he was not about to admit defeat.

"I have to do this. Will you look after my wife while I am gone, or not?"

Gabriel and Brave exchanged glances. Julian didn't comprehend the meaning behind them. It was obviously some secret code that only happily married men could decipher.

Bastards.

"I do not have time to debate this with either of you," he announced crossly, snatching his valise from the sofa where it sat. "I have to leave now if I want to catch up with them before they reach Heatherington."

He was at the door, his hand on the knob, when Gabriel's voice came from behind him.

"Yes. We shall look after Sophia while you are gone."

It was an effort to keep his shoulders from actually sagging in relief. Glancing over his shoulder, Julian cast a brief smile at his friends. "Thank you."

He checked his watch as he strode down the corridor. It was late. He would have to make good time if he wanted to catch up with them. Fortunately he knew of a few shortcuts to Yorkshire that might give him an advantage, provided that Wesley or his driver didn't know them as well.

"Julian."

His feet stuck to the floor as though they had been glued there. Against his better judgment, he turned his head to face her. It was a mistake.

Sophia stood on the stairs dressed in a gown of pale blue muslin. The color normally would have looked quite fine on her, but this morning it only accentuated the pallor of her face and the bluish circles beneath her stark, wide eyes. She looked tired. She looked sad.

Julian didn't speak. He couldn't. He simply stared at her for what seemed an eternity. Finally, he turned away, but not before he saw the rejection in her eyes. She thought he was leaving in order to punish her. What she didn't understand— what she could have no possible way of knowing— was that it wasn't her he was trying to punish.

He was punishing himself.

He didn't say goodbye.

Never mind that, he never even said
hello.

From where she stood in the hall, Sophia could see out into the foyer, and through the windows that flanked the front door. Through the spotless panes, she watched as Julian hoisted himself up onto the back of his horse. He spoke to someone standing beneath him— Fielding probably— and then glanced up.

Their eyes met through the glass for the briefest of moments— long enough to hurt— and then he was gone, the gelding's hooves kicking up stones as it galloped down the gravel drive, its rider bent over its neck.

Within seconds he was out of sight, and Sophia was left alone, the emptiness of the house echoing around her.

Where was he going? When would he return? Had he discovered where Letitia and Mr. Wesley had gone? Gretna Green was the obvious answer, but perhaps Julian knew differently. Or perhaps he didn't know anything at all.

If it weren't from the missive she received from Lilith late yesterday evening, she wouldn't have even known that Julian had anyone trying to find his sister— although she probably would have assumed it. Julian was not the kind of man to allow anyone to run away from him. Nor was he the type of man to run himself, except where she was concerned.

Lilith's note had been brief, explaining that Julian had come to see them, also asking for her help. She had given him the name of a man who might be able to help. She asked how Sophia was faring and offered her assistance and friendship, however either might be needed. Sophia was touched.

She was also angry as hell.

Julian must know that she had asked Lilith for help as well, yet he said nothing. He must know she was feeling awful for everything, yet he remained silent. She hated silence. She had endured years of it while married to Edmund. He could go for days without speaking to her, ignoring her until she came to him, having worked herself into a state wondering what she might have done to displease him. Most times she wouldn't have done anything at all. He just liked making her think she had because then she was suitably grateful when he decided to bless her with his attention again.

Well, she wasn't that stupid girl anymore, and Julian, for all his faults, was a better man than Edmund ever thought of being. Her husband was upset with her, she could understand that, but if he thought she was going to let him avoid her, he had a rude awakening coming.

Holding her head high, even though there was no one to see her brave front, she walked across the hall to the parlor where she and Julian usually took their breakfast.

A piece of toast, lightly buttered, was all her stomach felt like eating, and she nibbled on it as she left the parlor, her cup of tea in the other hand. If Julian left behind any trace of where he was going, or what he had discovered about Letitia, it would be in his study. If she didn't find anything, she would have to resort to questioning the servants, even though she would rather not have them gossiping about the state of her marriage to their master.

It was possible that Julian had been on his way after Letitia when she saw him. Had he any luggage with him when he left? She couldn't remember. She hadn't noticed. Her gaze hadn't gotten past his face and the betrayed expression in his gaze when it met hers.

The door to his study was open. That was odd. Normally Julian made certain it was closed at all times, unless he actually allowed the staff in there to clean it. The room was his little haven, his sanctuary. He wouldn't like her pawing around in it.

One more thing to add to her list of sins, she thought wryly. She'd apologize for that too, if he ever spoke to her again.

Gabriel and Brave were standing in the middle of the study having what appeared to be a very serious conversation, given the gravity of their expressions and the hushed severity of their voices.

"Gentlemen," she said loudly from the doorway. "Why am I not surprised to see you?"

They jumped like boys caught at mischief, and turned to face her with almost identical aspects of chagrin.

"Sophia." It was Gabriel who found his voice first. "Good morning." He bowed. Brave followed suit.

"I challenge you to name one thing good about it," she said, softening the remark with a smile as she crossed the carpet toward them.

"The sun is shining," Brave replied when Gabriel turned to him for help.

She would give them that. "Where was my husband going when I saw him just a little while ago?"

Brave glanced first at Gabriel then at Sophia. "I'm not certain we should— "

"Yorkshire," Gabriel blurted. "He's gone to Heatherington Park."

The scowl on Brave's face was almost laughable. "Gabe!"

The dark-haired man shrugged. "Julian would interfere if it was one of our marriages and you know it."

Sophia didn't give a damn who interfered in whose marriage. "Why did he go to Yorkshire?" Good lord, he wasn't angry enough to leave her, was he? Normally it was the woman who was banished to the country, not the husband.