That Perfect Someone (7 page)

Chapter Eleven

I
T TOOK TWO DAYS
for Julia to get up the nerve to visit the Malory house down the street because she wasn’t going there simply to visit her friend Georgina. She was hoping to find out something, anything, about Jean Paul that might lead to her seeing him again. It was rather bold of her to try, but how could she not, when she couldn’t get the man out of her mind? Or the notion that he might really be her perfect match. How could she let him just slip away without finding out for sure? That had, in the end, convinced her. She would always regret it if she made no effort at all.

She wasn’t going to mention him to James, of course. But she reasoned that Georgina might not mind talking about him and might even be flattered that such a strapping young man was in love with her.

The Malory house wasn’t in its usual quiet state, however. She’d forgotten that all five of Georgina’s brothers had come to London for her birthday this year, and none of them had yet gone back to sea. Only Boyd lived permanently in London. While Warren and his wife, Amy, also had a house in town, they were usually at sea for half of each year.

When she was introduced to the two brothers that she hadn’t met before, Clinton and Thomas Anderson, just as they were leaving, she assumed they were staying with their sister until they sailed back to America.

It was the first thing she remarked on after she joined Georgina in her parlor and more introductions were made. Two of Georgina’s sisters-in-law were present, along with Boyd, her youngest brother. Julia was already acquainted with Boyd’s wife, Katey. And while she’d met Drew Anderson once before several years ago, and she’d seen his new wife at the ball, she hadn’t actually met Gabrielle until now.

“Actually,” Georgina said with a wry grin, “this is the first time ever that none of my brothers are staying with me. But then it’s a perfect opportunity for Clinton and Thomas to get to know the new wives in the family, so Boyd’s putting them up, thanks to that house you found for him.”

“And thank God for that,” James said drily as he sauntered into the parlor. “Can’t thank you enough, Julia, for leasing him that place that’s big enough for the lot of them. Now if they’d just stop spending all their waking hours here …”

The derogatory remark was typical of James when it came to his five Anderson brothers-in-law. Even Julia knew that. And no one there took it seriously.

Katey Anderson, who had only discovered last year that she was also a Malory, chuckled. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily, Uncle James.”

“You and Gabby are the exception, puss,” James said as he bent to kiss the top of Katey’s head on his way to Georgina’s chair, where he half-sat on the arm of it. “And if either of you would like to come to your senses, I know which arms to twist to arrange for a quiet divorce.”

Boyd used to have quite a temper according to his sister. Although he’d apparently mellowed with age, it didn’t sound like it when he said, “That’s going a little too far, Malory.” Then, turning to Georgina, he inquired, “Isn’t he supposed to at least pretend to be nice when you have company?”

“Well said, Yank!”

Boyd nodded to acknowledge the compliment from James, but Georgina said, “If you mean Julia, she’s our friend and neighbor, and he doesn’t rein it in among friends, so do try not to encourage him.”

“Don’t
dis
courage him, George,” James said. “He’s finally getting the hang of it.”

Georgina rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

Julia grinned. She was used to this sort of banter in this particular household. She had been present when James had brutally disparaged his brother-in-law Warren and no one in their family had raised a brow over it, Warren included. But James didn’t only put his hooks in the Anderson men. If none of them were present, he could be just as abusive to his own brother Anthony. Their niece Regina had summed it up nicely once when she’d confided they were happiest when they were fighting, either each other or joining forces against a common enemy.

Definitely not a good time to come asking about secret admirers, Julia thought, when Georgina was surrounded by her family. Julia couldn’t deny that she was disappointed. After she’d finally worked up the nerve to broach the subject, she was going to have to leave empty-handed. Yet uppermost in her mind was the knowledge that Jean Paul wasn’t going to be in London for long, so she didn’t have time to dally if she hoped to see him again. All of which made her realize she probably wasn’t going to see him again.

She tried to enjoy the visit anyway. The Malorys were always entertaining. But her disappointment put a definite damper on her mood. She was about to give her excuses to depart when James beat her to it.

“I was supposed to meet Tony at Knighton’s Hall for a round or two in the ring this morning. I suppose I should at least make an appearance.”

“We have company,” Georgina said pointedly as he stood up to leave.

“Yes, but now you ladies can discuss ladylike things, and frankly, m’dear, I’d rather have Tony pound on me than suffer through yet another discussion of fashion. What about you, Yank?” he added with a glance at his brother-in-law. “Care to tag along?”

Boyd shot to his feet instantly. “Are you joking? I’d love to!”

Katey laughed as soon as the men left the room and said to Georgina, “That was quite a boon for Boyd. He was sure he’d never get invited to that private pugilist hall those two are members of and have a chance to watch them have at each other. Is Uncle James feeling all right? He’s not usually so—dare I say—kind to your brothers.”

“If his invitation extends to inviting Boyd into the ring, it wouldn’t be so kind, now would it?” Gabrielle remarked.

“Actually, Boyd would consider that a privilege! He so admires their pugilist skills.”

“I doubt that’s James’s intention,” Georgina said. “As it happens, he’s been quite benevolent now that the ball is over and done with. You can’t imagine how much he hated having to attend, knowing he’d be on display. He was at his most sardonic the prior week, and I couldn’t even let him know that I sympathized with him, since I wasn’t
supposed
to know about the party.”

“It was a smashing success, though, wasn’t it?” Gabrielle said. “Regina must be pleased.”

“
Smashing
is a good word for it,” Katey replied. “It was such a crush, I could barely move about.”

“And Regina wasn’t pleased a’tall,” Georgina informed them. “She expected a few party crashers, but not in those absurd numbers.”

Gabrielle had been looking at Julia during this discussion and finally said, “I was hoping to meet you again before my husband and I leave town. Georgina mentioned you’re in trade just like her family, but that you also run your family businesses and have been for quite some time now. I find that fascinating, as young as you are.”

Julia grinned. “It’s not all that hard to do when you’ve been involved in it all your life. My father wasn’t lax in making sure I could take over for him one day.”

“You don’t run into trouble because you’re a woman?”

“Certainly. When it comes to negotiating new contracts or buying new businesses, I make my decisions, then simply let my solicitors speak for me. This keeps ruffled feathers to a minimum, my own included!” Julia chuckled. “Everything else is fairly simple because my father already employed very competent managers.”

“So you don’t do the hiring and firing yourself?”

“Just the managers, and I’ve only had to replace one so far. He was a good man, he just got it into his head that he could take advantage of a ‘female’ employer. But what about yourself? I was told you and Drew have settled in the Caribbean instead of America.”

“I’ve loved the islands since I first went to live with my father there. And I was given a lovely little island as a wedding gift.”

“A whole island?” Julia asked, amazed.

“Really, it’s tiny!” Gabrielle laughed. “But Drew agreed to build our home there since he’s been trading in the islands for years anyway.”

It was too bad, Julia thought, that Gabrielle and Drew would be returning there soon. The young woman was so easy to talk to, Julia was sure they could have become good friends. But with the subject of the ball having been introduced, Julia grabbed the opportunity now to mention what had been preoccupying her.

“By the by, Georgina, I met an admirer of yours that night at the ball,” Julia said. “A young Frenchman by the name of Jean Paul.”

“A Frenchman?” Georgina shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I don’t know any.”

“No? So he’s kept his love a secret, even from you?”

“He professed to love me?” Georgina said with a frown now, and then a task. “Is this some new romantic notion young men are favoring these days, that they must risk all for love?”

“This isn’t your first secret admirer?” Julia guessed.

“No, unfortunately.”

Katey laughed. “That
would
be risking all, wouldn’t it, to fall in love with you?”

“That’s why I find this so absurd,” Georgina said. “They must know I’m happily married. They’re more’n likely terrified of my husband for whatever reason. Perhaps it’s like a rite of passage, their picking the most unavailable woman to moon over, the one they’re most likely to get killed for pursuing. It quite annoys James, you know.”

Katey was laughing harder. Gabrielle was looking up at the ceiling. Julia sighed inwardly. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to learn here today, but it wasn’t that Georgina didn’t even know who Jean Paul was.

“You weren’t interested in that French fellow, were you, Julia?” Gabrielle said, casting a worried look her way.

“No, of course not,” Julia replied, but her blush probably gave away the lie.

Chapter Twelve

J
ULIA’S NERVE WAS BEGINNING
to desert her. She stood outside Jean Paul’s hotel. Did she really want to do this, make her interest so obvious to a man she hadn’t fully seen yet? That she was even there was so unexpected, she was still amazed.

When Gabrielle Anderson had followed her outside the Malory house, Julia had thought she’d left something behind. But, no, Gabrielle had said, “I know who you were talking about. Jean Paul is a dear friend of mine.”

“But Georgina doesn’t know him?”

“She does, he just probably neglected to tell her his name. He’s not only careless when he’s around her, but thoughtless as well.”

“I suppose love does that to a man.”

“Among other things,” Gabrielle had cryptically said. “But you appear to be aware of the situation yet you are still interested in him?”

“Was it that obvious?” Julia said with a blush.

“No need to be embarrassed. I’m not even surprised. Jean Paul is not only handsome, he can be delightfully charming, too. But this obsession he has with my sister-in-law isn’t good for anyone involved, most of all him. He’s been lovesick too long over a lost cause. He needs rescuing. And while I wouldn’t ordinarily interfere, it occurred to me that a pretty girl like you could be his salvation.”

“That’s—a tall order,” Julia said uneasily.

“I merely meant, you could help him to forget about Georgina.”

Hadn’t Jean Paul said nearly the same thing? And hadn’t
she
been thinking it as well? She’d been intrigued by a masked charmer, and now he was even more acceptable in her mind. He was a friend of the Andersons’ and Gabrielle had confirmed that he was handsome and charming. Julia couldn’t find any reason not to pursue an acquaintance.

Gabrielle had put that thought in Julia’s head when she’d added, “He’s staying at Coulson’s Hotel if you’d like to leave him a message. Perhaps you can arrange a meeting somewhere to further your acquaintance. Wait, you didn’t bring your maid to chaperone, did you?”

“No, I live down the street here, close enough to walk, so it wasn’t necessary.”

“Well, no need to delay! My carriage is right here. I’ll go with you,” Gabrielle had offered. “It won’t take long just to leave a note.”

This innocent suggestion still put Julia in the role of pursuer, and Jean Paul would know it. She would have preferred a meeting by chance. Even if she arranged it, at least he wouldn’t know she did. But with her new friend going to the trouble of escorting her, she couldn’t back down now. She couldn’t get the time constraint out of her mind, either. Jean Paul was only visiting England. He’d said as much. He could leave at any time.

Actually, Gabrielle might know, might even be the friend he was here visiting. She’d called him a dear friend. She must know a lot about him.

As they entered the hotel together, Julia asked, “What kind of work does Jean Paul do?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Gabrielle replied in what seemed a careful tone.

“No, we didn’t say much about ourselves at the ball.”

“Well, it will give you something to talk about with him.”

Was Gabrielle deliberately avoiding that subject? Julia tried another, asking, “Do you know how long he is going to be in England?”

“Not long. Too long,” Gabrielle said, somewhat distracted, then with a glance at Julia, she sighed. “I’m sorry, he just causes me such worry over his infatuation with my sister-in-law. Which is why I thought—” Gabrielle paused. She even frowned. Then she added unexpectedly, “Have you ever thought of visiting the Caribbean?”

Julia chuckled at such an abrupt change of subject. “Oh, my, no. I can and do make quick jaunts to France on business, but I can’t be away from my responsibilities here for more’n a few days at a time.”

“I understand, and maybe this wasn’t such—” Gabrielle paused again. “Oh, what the heck, fate has impulsively gotten us this far. I’ll leave the note. Actually, why don’t I see if he’s available to join us for lunch here?”

Julia grinned. A much preferable arrangement that made her pursuit of him less obvious.

At the desk, though, they were informed that Jean Paul was already having lunch in the garden. The clerk called one of the hotel employees to take them to him.

The clerk explained, “You’ll need direction, since it’s still a bit of a maze out there once you get beyond the small dining area. Some of our guests prefer their privacy, so we have a few tables set up behind the hedges. The young gentleman is using one of them.”

With quite a few tables set under the shade of two large oak trees in the center of the garden, Julia and Gabrielle walked past a lovely area where guests could partake of breakfast, lunch, or tea, weather permitting, to a maze of tall hedges at the back of the garden.

Julia was desperately trying for some composure so it wouldn’t be so obvious that she was giddy with excitement. She couldn’t manage it. She was going to see him! Today. Within moments.

But she got unexpected help when she was nearly run over! The employee waved an arm indicating the final hedge, and Julia no sooner stepped around it when a tall man did the same. He was quick enough to put out his hands to keep her from colliding with him. He looked slightly oriental, due to the long black braid that hung over his shoulder. He blocked her view of the table behind him.

He looked her up and down. “Well, definitely not the lunch we ordered,” he said, sounding English, then added to the employee, “You forgot this table is already in use?”

“We were told Jean Paul—” Julia began.

“Right place,” the man cut in but then, noticing Gabrielle behind Julia, muttered, “Uh-oh.”

Gabrielle was raising her brow at him over that “Uh-oh,” but all Julia heard was Jean Paul’s voice from behind the man. “My angel of mercy from the ball? What an unexpected
pleasure, chérie
. Do come join me. And, Ohr, be a good sport and go find out what happened to that food, eh?”

Ohr started laughing. “I would, but your ‘angel’ isn’t alone.”

Julia couldn’t help grinning over the emphasis Jean Paul had placed on the word
pleasure.
But as Ohr stepped aside so she could actually see Jean Paul, her grin faded at the sight of him.

“My God, what happened to you?” Julia gasped.

“James Malory happened to me.”

“When? Surely not that night?”

“Indeed, he caught up with me as I was leaving the ball. Another few moments and I would have been gone.” Then he winced when he saw Gabrielle step next to Julia.

“My God, didn’t we give you enough warnings?” Gabrielle said in an appalled tone as she looked him over. “Maybe I should have taken a club to you myself and saved James the trouble?”

He gave his friend a half grin. “Your sympathy warms my heart,
chérie
.”

“Oh, shut up,” Gabrielle huffed, then stabbed a finger at Ohr. “You come with me, I want a full accounting.” To Julia she said, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Julia barely heard her. She was drawn forward almost in morbid curiosity as Jean Paul stood to pull out the chair next to him for her. He was dressed too casually for a hotel of this caliber, no jacket, no cravat or tie, and perhaps that’s why he was tucked away at this private table. Or was it because of his bandages? When he bent slightly, she saw the upper edge of the bandages that were apparently wrapped around his chest, and the bruises above them. She saw him wince, too, and how stiffly he moved as he sat again. But his poor face! Whatever damage had been done there required a thick bandage that crossed the bridge of his nose and covered a good portion of the left side of his face.

“How badly are you hurt?” she asked as she took only a few steps closer to him. She resisted the chair he’d pulled out. She shouldn’t sit next to him, at least not until his friends returned.

The right side of his mouth rose in a cheeky grin. “Truly, not as bad as it looks.”

“But your chest is wrapped, isn’t it?”

“Merely bruised. I thought it was much worse, but the doctor assured me I’d be in a lot more pain if my ribs were broken. Malory was rather accurate in not hitting me in the same place twice.”

“Bruises that require bandaging?”

“Just as a precaution. The doctor couldn’t be absolutely certain there isn’t a small fracture hidden in there. Besides, while it might not look like it, I can breathe much easier this way.”

She winced. What a trouncing that must have been! But considering who had administered it, Jean Paul was lucky to have walked away from it.

“I take it your nose is broken though?” she said, staring at the bandages on his face.

“A minor nuisance,” he replied with a shrug. “Having been broken before, it breaks rather easily now. I’m usually much better at avoiding blows to my face.”

He said that with a wide grin that showed off some white teeth. He certainly didn’t
sound
seriously injured, but it definitely sounded as if he was no stranger to fisticuffs, which made her wonder again what sort of occupation he held, or leisure pursuits he indulged in. A young rakehell who frequented too many unsavory taverns? A pugilist like the younger Malory brothers, who took their exercise in a sporting ring? She wished Gabrielle had said more about him.

“All of those bandages can’t be for your nose,” she pointed out.

“Let me guess, you’re a nurse?”

She chuckled. “No, certainly not.”

His green eyes sparkled with laughter. “Well, if you were, you’d be leery of London doctors! They have such newfangled notions. This one first wanted to wrap my face up like a mummy’s. I refused. Then he suggested fish glue to stick the bandages to my skin. No thank you!” She smiled with him over his anecdote. “But truly,
chérie,
the doctor was just overly concerned with scratches on my cheek, so he did more than was warranted. And my nose will mend as it did before.”

“So no scars?”

“From scratches? But your concern is warming my heart. Perhaps if you visit me each day during my recovery, I will mend perfectly. You are my angel of mercy, after all.”

She blushed. She knew it wasn’t just compassion making her ask so many questions about his injuries, but her nervousness over being there. And some very real disappointment. She had assumed she would find out what Jean Paul looked like today. She’d been quite excited about that. But thanks to James Malory’s ire and an overzealous doctor, his face was just as distorted as when he’d been wearing the mask.

Despite all of the bandages, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was as young as she’d guessed him to be, somewhere in his mid-twenties. Nothing concealed his forehead today, so she could see that it was wide and smooth, with thick black eyebrows. And at least one cheek was undamaged, broad and masculine. His mouth was still just as fascinating as she’d found it that night, supple, quick to grin and quirk that thin mustache to a jaunty angle. Quite a dark tan he had, too, so he must enjoy the outdoors as she did.

“You’re not wondering how I found you when I didn’t know Gabrielle was a friend of yours?” she asked.

“I do not question gifts,
chérie
. Come, sit here and let me bask in your beauty.” He patted the seat next to him again. Had he moved it a little closer to him?

She knew she shouldn’t, but she found herself sitting down demurely anyway. Some unexpected heat washed over her, being this close to him. She must be blushing again.

His lack of curiosity struck her as unusual. Or perhaps hers was overabundant, since she had to know everything about every little thing—and had yet to really learn anything about him. But she’d always been that way, in her studies, in life, while learning the intricacies of conducting business from her father.

And a good deal of that curiosity was aroused by this man. “Georgina doesn’t know you’re French.”

“No, I didn’t want her to misunderstand my intentions, so I spoke my best English with her.”

She dropped her eyes to her lap before adding, “She doesn’t even know your name.”

He laughed. “I’d be devastated if I thought I’d told her and she so easily forgot, but I can’t recall mentioning it to her. My thoughts get quite scattered in her presence—as scattered as they are right now.”

Her blush got hotter, or maybe
she
was getting hotter. She feared she would let out a nervous giggle. She wasn’t used to this sort of excitement. It was a bit overwhelming. Her simply being there alone with him was so naughty! This must be what a lovers’ tryst felt like.

She shouldn’t have taken her eyes off his face. The distortion the bandages caused was quelling her excitement and kept her mind focused on his condition, which raised her sympathy, not her attraction. So she lifted her eyes slowly, but didn’t get any farther than his shoulder. He’d turned in his chair to face her more directly, and his hair had fallen over his shoulder. It was that long!

She waved a finger toward it with a laugh. “Is that a French fashion?”

“The reason I wear my hair this way is actually a long story which I’d rather not recount. Suffice it to say, it delights me to wear it this way.”

“It’s nearly as long as my own hair!” she exclaimed.