Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (32 page)

Sophia turned her astonished gaze to Letitia. "That book was awful, and he wants another!"

Squealing, Letitia punched her hands into the air. "Take that, Lord Aberley!"

Sophia couldn't help but join her laughter. Oh, wouldn't Charles have a fit if he knew his attempt to ruin her had resulted not only in her marriage to Julian, but to some degree of success for her as well.

Tossing her napkin on the table, Sophia tucked the bank draft back into the letter and rose to her feet.

"Come, Letitia. You and I are going shopping courtesy of the Marquess of Aberley."

Letitia was out of her chair in an instant. "You know I never turn down the opportunity to go shopping."

"I will even buy you a treat," Sophia said with a smile.

"What about me?" came a familiar voice from the doorway. "Will you buy me a treat as well?"

Flushing with warmth, Sophia turned to face her husband as he walked toward her. "Do you think you deserve one?"

The sparkle in his golden eyes thrilled her right down to her toes. "Do you?"

There was no mistaking the meaning in that low, gravelly tone. He was referring to earlier that morning— and the pleasure he had given her.

She flashed a teasing grin at him. "I shall think about it."

"Would you like to come with us, Julian?" Letitia asked, surprising not only her brother, but Sophia as well.

That Julian was touched by her offer was plain to see in his expression. Sophia's gaze went from sister to brother. This was what it meant to be family— to love someone so much that even anger and personal injury couldn't sever it. This was unconditional love.

Lord, how she envied it.

"No, thank you, Lettie," he replied, emotion thickening his tone. "I have business to attend to. I just received a note from a certain young gentleman requesting an audience with me later this afternoon. He says he has something of great importance to discuss with me."

Sophia's breath caught in her throat as he smiled. Such a sweet, hopeful smile, the likes of which she had never seen on his face before. Could it be that he had changed his mind about Mr. Wesley?

Letitia's smile was almost as painful to look at as her brother's, it had so much expectation in it.

They prepared to leave, Letitia exiting the room first. Sophia took advantage of this time alone to plant a quick kiss on Julian's cheek. "You will go easy on this young man, will you not?" she asked. "And hear him out before making your decision?"

His expression was one of amusement. "Of course I will. I am not a complete ogre, you know. Besides, I am already persuaded to give my permission."

Sophia threw her arms around him. "Oh, Julian, that is wonderful! Letitia will be so very happy.
I
am so very happy."

"Do I deserve that treat now?" he asked, smiling.

Sophia reluctantly stepped out of his embrace. "Oh, my dear Lord Wolfram, I believe you deserve more than just one." She lowered her voice seductively. "And if you are good, I just might buy you something as well."

And with that, she hurried from the room, anxious to assure Letitia that her dreams were about to come true, and thinking that the next time she was alone with Julian, she might just have to tell him how much she loved him.

"I
look forward to having you as a brother-in-law, Lord Wolfram."

Julian smiled at the younger man as they shook hands. Even more pleasing than the fact that such a fine, worthy gentleman wanted to marry his sister was the knowledge that Letitia wanted him as well. He knew she would come around eventually.

"I look forward to it as well, Rutherford," he replied sincerely, as Fielding opened the door for him. "As soon as I have had a chance to confer with Letitia I will call on you to discuss the particulars."

Grinning like an idiot, Rutherford bowed his sandy head and took his leave. Julian watched him go with amusement. The young earl practically skipped down the steps to his waiting carriage.

There was a slight spring to Julian's own step as he walked back to his study. He didn't have to worry about Letitia's future anymore. He was finally free to concentrate on his own. With Sophia.

He had just sat down to resume work on the poem he was writing for her— a task that was taking him longer than usual, he labored over it so— when Fielding knocked on the door.

"There is a young gentleman here to see you, my lord."

"Who is it, Fielding?"

"He said his name is Wesley."

Marcus Wesley, Penderthal's heir? What could he possibly want? Julian hardly knew the man.

But Letitia did. She had mentioned him several times since the start of the season. Unease crept up Julian's spine as he remembered his sister's smile that morning when he told her a young man was coming to see him.

Damnation
. He hoped to hell that smile hadn't been because she thought he meant Wesley.

It couldn't have been. She knew how he felt about Wesley. He seemed like a good sort of man, but he had no title yet, little money and came from a deplorable background.

"Send him in, Fielding." Perhaps there was another reason for the young man's visit. Julian sincerely hoped there was. Just because he didn't think Wesley suitable didn't mean he wanted to have to tell
him
that.

"Yes, my lord." The butler bowed out of the doorway.

A few moments later, Marcus Wesley appeared.

Wesley was a smart-looking young man with dark hair and bright eyes. He was handsome, charming and always at ease. He reminded Julian very much of a young Gabriel. That resemblance and his open nature made it hard to disapprove him, but the fact that he was so unsuitable for Letitia made it almost too easy.

"Good afternoon, Lord Wolfram," the younger man spoke, his voice low and smooth. "I hope I am not interrupting anything of import?"

"Not at all. Come in." The poem for Sophia was certainly important, but hardly enough reason to send Wesley away.

Julian leaned back in his chair. He wasn't going to prolong the man's discomfort by making small talk. It would be cruel.

"What can I do for you, Wesley?"

Wesley smiled at him, all youthful exuberance. There was perhaps a mere five or six years separating him from Julian, and yet Julian felt as though the gulf were more like six and twenty.

"I want permission to ask for your sister's hand."

The man was blunt, Julian would give him that. No pretty phrasing, no bowing to the guardian, just a straight-out demand.

Julian would give him the same candor. "I cannot do that."

Young Mr. Wesley did not look entirely shocked, as though he had expected the reply.

"Might I ask why not?" he asked. Some of the brightness had left his eyes.

A little stab of guilt pierced Julian's conscience. Ignoring the sensation, Julian rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and set his chin on his thumb and finger. "Do you drink, Mr. Wesley?"

The younger man frowned. "On occasion, yes."

"Like your father?"

Wesley's jaw tightened. "No. Not like that. Nor do I gamble or whore around as he did either— just in case you thought to ask."

Julian believed him. "What about your income?"

Wesley's gaze dropped for a split second. "I have several investments that are expected to pay off in the near future. And as you know, I am to inherit my uncle's title upon his death."

Julian shrugged one shoulder. "Your uncle is in his fifties. He could live for a number of years yet."

The younger man's gaze narrowed. "I would never wish for his death just to secure my own happiness, Lord Wolfram. I wish him a long and happy life."

Julian did not doubt Wesley's honesty. But even as he wished the young man had better prospects, he could not willingly give his sister to a man with no land, no title and little fortune.

"I am afraid I cannot oblige you, Wesley. I have already given permission to someone else."

All the color drained from the young man's face. Julian almost thought he could hear Wesley's heart as it shattered. "Someone else? Does Letitia know this?"

He could lie. That would put an end to Wesley's pursuit of his sister, perhaps even lessen the young man's pain somewhat, but he couldn't do that.

"No. I do not believe that she does. I suspect she was rather hoping it would be you."

Wesley stared at him, his eyes unnaturally dark and large in his pale face. The guilt stabbed harder this time. "And if she refuses this other man?"

"I still would not give my permission."

The muscle in Wesley's jaw ticked. Anger blazed in his eyes. "Because of my father?"

Straightening, Julian shook his head. He wasn't very proud of himself at that moment. "Because of your financial situation."

Something in his voice must have given his suspicions away, because a sardonic smile curved the younger man's lips as he regarded him.

"You think I am after her fortune."

Julian did not respond. He simply lifted a brow and challenged Wesley to deny it.

Color bloomed on Wesley's cheekbones. "Only the fact that you are Letitia's brother keeps me from wishing you straight to hell, Lord Wolfram."

"I love Letitia," Wesley continued hotly. "An emotion which, with all due respect, I suspect you are not familiar with, my lord."

That rankled, but Julian contained his temper. "It is because I love my sister that I am so concerned about her future, Mr. Wesley. Love is all very well and good, but what can you give her? How much will you love her when the bills from the dressmaker or the jeweler start to pile up and you have no way to pay them?"

Young Wesley's face was as immobile as granite. "We will just have to economize."

Julian surged to his feet, bracing his palms on the surface of his desk as his gaze bore into the younger man's.

"Letitia does not know
how
to economize! She has never had to. How can you demand that of her now? She will come to resent you for asking it of her, just as you will resent her spending. How long will love last when you are constantly arguing over expenditures?"

Wesley was stiff with indignant anger. "You seem to have a rather low of opinion of both myself and Letitia, Lord Wolfram, if you believe we would let something like frivolity come between us."

Sighing, Julian raked a hand through his hair. "Frivolity is a quirk, Wesley. Letitia's spending is a way of life. She has never been denied anything— ever. I must assume some responsibility for that, I know, but it is something she has spent the last four and twenty years expecting. Would you honestly expect her to give it up just for you? What are you prepared to give up for her?"

Wesley didn't budge. "Everything I have is Letitia's."

Julian's lips curved in a sympathetic smile. "Everything you have wouldn't keep my sister in gowns for a year. I am sorry, Wesley, but my answer is still no."

Face dark with frustration and anger, Marcus Wesley glared at him. "You are no more sorry than you are aware of your sister's wants and needs, Lord Wolfram, but I suspect those are things you will have to discover on your own."

Julian frowned at the cryptic tone in the other man's statement. He would have demanded to know what he meant if Letitia hadn't chosen that moment to come barging in.

"Marcus!" she cried happily as she entered the room. Her joy quickly faded as her gaze went from her lover to her brother.

Wesley didn't try to hide his feelings as he turned to face her. The love in his expression was almost enough to make Julian change his mind. Almost.

"He said no, didn't he?" Letitia asked in a little voice.

Wesley went to her. It was as though the two of them had forgotten that Julian was even there, like the two of them were alone in the world. Julian knew that feeling. He often felt it when he was with Sophia.

Julian watched as his sister laid a hand on her lover's arm and spoke softly to him. Wesley's expression was pained, but he nodded and covered her hand with one of his own before leaving the room.

As the door closed behind him, Letitia turned to face Julian. She looked as though he had just shoved a sword through her chest.

"How could you?" she demanded. "How could you elevate my hopes as you did this morning only to crush them like this? Do you hate me that much?"

"I do not hate you," Julian replied harsher than he intended. "Has it ever occurred to you that I do these things because I love you?"

Letitia was incredulous. "Love me? How can you stand there and say you care for me when you have just refused to let me marry the man I love?"

Inhaling a deep breath, Julian mentally counted to ten as he exhaled. "How would you live, Lettie? Mr. Wesley's income allows him to live comfortably on his own, but it is nowhere near enough to keep both of you."

She scowled at him. "It would be if we economized," she informed him, her tone mimicking that of Mr. Wesley's. "Marcus has done the math. He says we will be fine as long as we are careful."

And if "Marcus" said it, it must be so. Julian sighed. "
Careful
means one trip to the dressmaker a year, rather than four or more, Lettie. It means not being able to buy a new hat just because it's pretty. It means no baubles, no trinkets unless they are accounted for."

Her chin came up defiantly. "I do not care."

Julian's control on his temper snapped. "For God's sake, listen to what you are saying! You are lying to yourselves, Lettie. He cannot afford to marry you. Even with your dowry, the lifestyle you are accustomed to will not last more than a few years. It could be many more before he inherits the title. What then?"

"We will make do!" she shouted back, stomping her foot on the carpet.

Julian rubbed a hand over his face as he bit back a stinging retort. He was losing control of the situation. He had to regain control.

"I do not believe it will be that simple for you, pet."

Letitia laughed bitterly. "Your faith in me is astounding."