He nodded. “He might be.”
They were clattering along Kensington High Street when she put into words what she felt sure they were both thinking. “So the Irish, at least those in Ireland, trust you as a conduit to the government. Could that man be wanting to use you to pass a message along?”
He didn’t say anything for some time, but whether that meant he was thinking or having to concentrate too intently on the increasing traffic to formulate an answer, she couldn’t have said. But when they turned up Park Lane into the quieter streets of Mayfair, he glanced at her. “I thought that might be it, but the way he keeps vanishing whenever anyone else hoves in sight… That’s the part I don’t understand, and that bothers me.”
By mutual consent, they let the topic lie. In truth, she was rather grateful to the unknown, possibly Irish man; if it hadn’t been for his repeatedly popping up, she might never have thought to ask the questions she had—might never have learned about that aspect of Julian’s life.
Thinking back to what she’d seen in him all those years ago confirmed that this more serious side of him, one encompassing a devotion to country and to duty of several kinds, was one she’d sensed, even then, was there. Even while he’d been acting the fool, as young gentlemen were wont to do, there’d been an awareness of others and of ever-present duty to his name and station running beneath his glib and highly polished exterior.
Being the daughter of Lord North and, even more pertinently, a scion on the Osbaldestone family tree, she knew what value to place on such fundamental convictions. They formed the bedrock of men’s souls.
Julian drew up outside North House and came around to help her down.
As he hadn’t brought his tiger with him and there was no helpful urchin in sight, they parted on the pavement.
Smiling, she gave him her hand. “Thank you for a lovely day free of the madding crowd.”
He smiled easily, took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles. “It truly was my pleasure.” His gray gaze held her with almost mesmerizing power, drawing her in, tempting her, luring her nearer.
For an instant, she teetered on the precipice of stepping closer and brazenly demanding a proper kiss. Her lips throbbed hungrily.
She hauled in a breath and, with a warning look, retrieved her fingers.
He smiled faintly and released her. “Until tonight.”
“Indeed. Lady Hetherington expects us in good time for her dinner.”
He sighed dramatically. “No rest for the wicked.” With a last commiserating smile, he saluted her, and she turned and went up the steps.
Curtin, her parents’ butler, opened the door and bowed her in. On the threshold, she turned and saw Julian, once again on the curricle’s seat but waiting to see her safely inside. She smiled and raised a hand.
In reply, he flourished his whip, then gave his horses the office and drove off.
She watched him go, then still smiling, went inside, entirely happy with the outcome of her day.
Chapter 5
Afull week after finding themselves unexpectedly engaged, Julian sat beside Melissa in the front row of the Carsely box at the Royal Opera House and wondered, yet again, when the ton would lose interest in them.
Too many people still found the sight of them fascinating, as if waiting for him or Melissa or both to do something sensational. He had no idea why; it wasn’t as if either of them was given to behaving in outrageous or scandalous ways.
He liked opera as well as any of his peers, which was to say that while the soprano caterwauled on stage, he was thinking of other things. His mother had been busily organizing, which was why he and Melissa, attended by their mothers and three of their aunts, were there that evening, once again on display for the entertainment and—beneath that—edification of the elite of London’s society.
Having no need to think further on that, he let his mind drift over the past week. While he’d spent what he considered far too many hours at social events, other than on the days they’d gone to Surrey and Richmond, he’d been able to devote some of his waking hours to dealing with estate business. Given the size of the earldom’s holdings, managing them properly was a constant, never-ending endeavor.
“What did you get up to today?”
Melissa’s whisper floated across his senses. Without shifting his gaze from the stage—not that he was watching the drama enacted upon it—under his breath, he replied, “I had to go through the projections for this year’s harvest and sign off on the planting plans.”
“I daresay that was more exciting—and certainly more rewarding—than attending three at-homes.”
“Very likely.” He stifled a grin. “I also learned that we put up over three hundred pound jars of honey.”
“You have beehives?”
“Dozens. They’re scattered through the orchards on all the properties.”
“Hmm, I do like honey. What sort of orchards?”
