The Perfect Mistress (40 page)

“So it would seem.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I don’t need to sell the memoirs then?”

“Not if you don’t wish to.”

“And there is no need to marry anyone because I need money?”

“Not at all.” She paused. “And the fact that Harrison has a tidy fortune has never played a part in how you feel about him, has it?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“His wealth has simply been a pleasant attribute, like dimples or curly hair. And much more attractive now that you don’t need it.” She studied her for a moment. “What are you waiting for, Julia?”

“What do you mean?”

Hermione heaved a long-suffering sigh. “To begin with”—she ticked the points off on her fingers—“you no longer need Harrison’s money now that you know the value of the treasures that are as much yours as they are Eleanor’s. So that aversion you have about marrying a man for his money is no longer relevant. You, my dear have independent wealth.”

A weight lifted off her shoulders. “And I have you to thank.”

“Think nothing of it.” Hermione waved away the comment. “Secondly, you have learned a lesson from your grandmother’s mistakes.”

“About forgiveness?”

“And balance as well.” She shrugged. “Forgiving an act that had nothing to do with you or something that was well intended even if ill conceived against a lifetime of regret.”

“I should forgive him.”

Hermione raised a brow. “I thought you already had.”

“What if it’s too late?”

“It’s not but to make certain you should waste no time.”

Julia stepped toward the door then paused. “But what about Miss Waverly? She is the type of woman he’s always wanted for a wife.”

“You needn’t worry about the proper Miss Waverly.” Hermione smirked. “I have it on very good authority that this morning, when her maid went in to awaken her, she discovered the young woman had run off with a footman.” She leaned forward in a confidential manner. “A very handsome footman I might add.”

Julia stared. “Veronica was right. Those least likely to bend …”

“Julia,” he began. “My methods may have been questionable but I believed, at the time, the end result was worth the, well, more deceitful aspects … damnation.”

Harrison glared at the suit of armor positioned to one side of the fireplace. He’d had it moved here from its usual place at the foot of the stairs because it was nearly Julia’s height and provided an excellent substitute Julia. He was not about to speak to her again until he knew exactly what he wished to say.

He resumed pacing the parlor. While he realized it might seem too efficient to practice a speech of apology and affection it also seemed wise, given the last two times he had tried to speak with her. It might also be wise to face up to one’s own limitations. As much as he prided himself on his intelligence he apparently had no idea when to restrain from expressing every opinion he had ever had. He was not a stupid man, yet she made him feel somewhat stupid, a feeling only enforced by his actions. He had no intention of going to Julia until he knew exactly what he was going to say. Obviously, he could no longer trust his intelligence, or lack thereof, in her presence.

Harrison paced the length of the parlor, drew a deep breath then stopped before the armor.

“‘To err is human, to forgive is divine’. Alexander Pope.” He paused and cast the substitute Julia a knowing look. “One of Britain’s greatest poets, you know.” He groaned. That was bloody awful. He sounded like a schoolboy giving a recitation. He had no idea how to do this. How would Charles have handled this? Or his father?

“Listen to your heart and not your head.”

Very well. He drew a deep breath then addressed the suit.

“Julia, from the very beginning, I have behaved not at all like my usual self in some ways while in others I have been entirely true to my nature. I apologize for the absurd scheme I initiated with Mr. Ellsworth and I assure you nothing like that will ever happen again. I apologize as well for my interference with Lady Holridge however, while I cannot guarantee I will never again do what I think is appropriate under the circumstances, I do promise to try not to interfere and to attempt to take your concerns into account.”

That was good, that was very good. He thought for a moment then continued.

“As for the memoirs, if you wish to sell them for publication, I have no objection. I have learned there are far more important things in this life than preventing scandal.” He paused for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement in the mirror over the mantel that partially reflected the door. His heart skipped a beat. How long had she been there? His head said to stop at once and acknowledge her presence. His heart disagreed.

He smiled to himself and continued. “I know you value your financial independence, and if the sale of the memoirs will make you content in that regard so be it. For good or ill, they are your legacy.”

He didn’t dare look toward her reflection for fear of meeting her gaze. This was going entirely too well and there was one more thing he needed to say.

“You should know as well, that I did not love you the moment we first met. I found you obstinate and annoying and far too intelligent for a woman. But some time after I asked for your friendship … By the time I kissed you on the terrace, my fate was sealed.” He cleared his throat. “I cannot imagine living my life without you by my side. And should you agree to be my wife”—his gaze flicked to hers in the mirror—“I shall spend every day of my life trying to make you happy. And in doing so I shall be happy as well.”

“You will make a lovely couple,” Julia said, “you and the suit of armor, that is.”

“She’s everything I ever wanted in a wife. I simply didn’t realize it until I met her.”

“She seems rather less than the proper, correct, well-bred lady you wanted. Goodness, Harrison, her knees are showing.”

“But you must admit they are lovely knees although they could do with a bit of polishing.”

“Ah, but she does seem an independent type that might not wish her knees polished.”

He shrugged. “Her independence is what makes her who she is. I would not now change her if I could.”

“Even if she isn’t what you wanted?”

“She isn’t what I wanted only because I could never have imagined her. Now, I can’t imagine anyone else.”

“No?”

“I love her.”

“I see.” She considered him for a moment. “How long have you known I was here?”

“How long have you been here?”

Her brow rose. “Answering a question with a question? Very well then. I did hear you expound on the divine nature of forgiveness.”

“It’s poetry, you know.”

She bit back a smile. “I am aware of that.”

He grimaced. “I can’t say I shall ever love poetry.”

“Nor do I expect you to.”

“I have recently discovered I have a great many flaws and failings.”

“You are human after all.”

“Will you marry me then and correct all my flaws and failings?”

“No.”

His heart sank and he swiveled to face her. “No?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I have no desire to correct your flaws and failings. They make you who you are.” She smiled. “I would not change you even if I could.”

“But do you forgive me? My flaws and failings that is.”

“Well, you did give me a dog.”

He smiled slowly. “I did.”

“He’s a grand spirit. I already love him.”

“How could you not?” His smiled widened. “He is irresistible and named after a poet.”

“And I love you as well.” Her gaze locked with his. “How could I not?”

“In spite of it all?”

“No, my dear man.” She walked toward him. “Because of it all.”

He moved toward her and pulled her into his arms. “And I love you as I never imagined, never dreamed, I could.”

“Then Veronica was right. She said I would suit you.” She slid her arms around his neck. “But she was wrong as well. She said you would never suit me.”

“I do love it when she’s wrong. I shall have to remind her of that.” He brushed his lips across hers. “And remind you as well how nicely we suit. Every day for the rest of your life I think. I intend to make you absurdly happy and completely content.”

“Don’t be silly. I shall never be merely content with you.” Her green eyes gazed into his and his breath caught and his heart leapt. “You, my love, for now and forever, are my adventure.”

Three weeks later …

“Lovely ceremony, I thought. Quite touching really.”

At once Julia was wide awake and struggled to sit up. “Where have you been? And why are you here now? You do realize this is my wedding night?”

“Happy, darling?”

“Blissful but …” She glanced at Harrison sleeping beside her and lowered her voice. “Do be quiet. You’ll awaken him and I have no idea how to explain you.”

“I rather think he’s too exhausted to awaken.” Hermione flashed her a wicked grin. “Indeed, he’s sleeping like the dead.”

“That’s not the least bit amusing.”

“Really? I thought it was most amusing, given that I really am expired whereas he is simply”—she chuck-led—“expended.”

“Now is not the time.” Julia tried to pull her thoughts together. “There is something I must tell you and I’m not sure how to say it.”

“My, this doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not.” She drew a deep breath. “Your memoirs seem to have disappeared. I can’t find them anywhere.”

“Imagine that.”

“Odder still, neither Benjamin nor Portia nor Harrison can find the selections they had.”

“That is odd.” She shrugged. “Well, I’m certain they will turn up eventually.”

Julia studied her. There was something decidedly different about Hermione tonight. “Will they?”

“I have no idea.” She nodded toward Harrison. “You do realize he will always be somewhat stuffy and proper?”

“I do.”

“And that proper English gentlemen and their wives usually have separate rooms?”

Julia grinned. “In that respect, I doubt he will ever be entirely proper. Nor do I intend to allow him to be.”

“Excellent.” Hermione paused. “Are you going to tell him about the circumstances of his birth?”

She shook her head. “No. It would serve no purpose save to take him down a peg. And I suspect I shall have other methods of doing that when necessary.”

“You love him and that’s how it should be. Julia …” Hermione hesitated.

“Hermione,” Julia said slowly. “What is it?”

“Oh dear, am I that transparent?” She glanced down. “No, delightfully solid I would say.”

“Why are you here?”

“I have something to tell you as well and now that the time has come I too have difficulties finding the right words.” She drew a deep breath. “As lovely as my afterlife has been, and I have had a grand time, I have learned, and learned really isn’t accurate.” She thought for a moment. “I’m not sure how to describe it. One minute I didn’t know and the next moment I did.”

“Know what?”

“Why I have lingered here and why my time is now at an end.”

“Of course, that’s it. That’s what’s different.” Julia stared. “You look ten years younger.”

“Fourteen actually. I was four and twenty when my husband died. I had thought I would join him when it was my turn but having fun with my old friends, meeting new ones, going to parties and routs and balls was apparently my penance.” She shook her head in amazement. “I find it hard to believe. I had everything here that I had enjoyed in life except the one thing I wanted most. But I couldn’t leave, you see, until I had fixed what was, however indirectly, my fault.”

At once Julia understood. “Grandmother and Lord Kingsbury?”

“That’s why I talked to her all these years.” She smiled an odd sort of half-hearted smile. “I tried to be a better mother in death than I was in life.”

Julia nodded.

“Then when you inherited the memoirs and you needed me, well, I had to be here. But my work is done and all at last ends well.” She rose to her feet. “Have a wonderful life, my dear child.”

“Aren’t you coming back?”

“You no longer need me. My daughter has been reunited with the love of her life and you have been joined with the love of yours.” She smiled. “And I have earned the right to be reunited with mine.” Hermione paused for a long moment. “I lived forty-three years after he died. I had a lovely life full of adventures and affection.” She sighed. “But I would have traded all of it for one more day with him.”

Julia swallowed hard. “I know.”

“Yes, darling, at last you do.” She cast a smile at her great-granddaughter’s new husband’s sleeping form. “You know exactly how I feel.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

“Certainly someday. But it will be a very long time from now. When your adventure”—she nodded at Harri-son—“and his is at an end.”

Julia swallowed hard. “I will miss you.”

“My dear child, I will always be with you in your heart, just as I will always be with my daughter.”

An ache burned the back of Julia’s throat. “Do you really have to go?”

“Darling, I want to go.” She fell silent for a moment. “Did you ever finish reading my book? Did you ever get to the end?”

She shook her head.

“Ah well,” she said in a lofty manner, “it was an excellent ending in which I imparted the lessons of a lifetime.”

Julia smiled. “Anything I should know?”

“My dear child.” Hermione faded from sight. “You already do.”

At the beginning of this volume I said I had no regrets and when I wrote those words I believed them to be true. Now, as I have set to paper the adventures of my life I find there are indeed regrets.

I regret I did not know in my youth what I know now. I regret that I made assumptions about the unrelenting nature of time. I regret that I was not as clever as I thought I was. And I wonder if these regrets are unique to me or if they are universal as they seem so very human.

Still, I have learned much. I know that the person in the midst of the crowd may be the most alone. I know that true love makes no sense and cannot be denied and lingers even after death. I know that it is indeed the adventure that makes life worth living. And I know the grandest adventures of life pale in comparison to the greater adventure of love.