“No, but I have heard the southern coast is vastly different from the northern, and there are very few miles between them.”
He nodded. “Prepare to see palm trees along the drive to Ravenscar. I believe you will like my home, Roxanne, it is something of a castle but not really. It was quite barren, but my mother has planted greenery to soften the landscape. There are also rolling green hills, scores of barrows—”
She sat forward, all attention. “Barrows? Do you believe them burial mounds from long ago?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Your mother told Sophie about Ravenscar. We are both anxious to see it, and the barrows, of course.”
“Good. You could spend hours poking about whilst I—”
After a moment, she said, “Yes? Whilst you have it out with slimy Richard, who believes you murdered your wife, and his sister. Will you tell me why he is so certain you are guilty of such a horrible deed?”
He studied her for a moment. “Do you not believe I could be guilty of murder?”
She waved that away. “No, not for a moment. You see, Julian, I have come to know you. You are an honorable man, a man who once he makes a promise would never break it. You would not murder anyone, particularly your own wife.”
She’d known him for weeks and believed it impossible for him to kill another person? Because he was honorable? A man who kept his promises? He felt humbled and grateful. And yet Richard, whom he’d known all his life, believed him guilty to the point he wanted him dead? Who was the damned witness he claimed knew Julian had killed Lily? He said finally, “It makes no sense for you to be completely ignorant when you will come with us to Hardcross Manor.” He paused for a moment, then said, “I would assume Baron Purley knew my father, but he never spoke of him to me that I remember. I suppose I never asked, since my father was an old man when I was born.
“I spent my boyhood years in and out of Hardcross Manor, a part of the family, really. Richard and I were inseparable, then Lily grew up and I saw her with new eyes, and so we married. Richard was my best man; Vicky was her flower girl. Six months,” he added, “we had only six months before she was shot, before she died.” He stopped, simply couldn’t bring himself to tell how he’d run into the garden to see Lily dead, blood covering her chest, how that warm sunny day had irrevocably changed all their lives. He said only, “Someone killed her or she shot herself. Neither makes sense to me, but it is either one or the other.
“I admit I’m surprised the baron wishes to make amends, to end the antipathy between us; that is what he wrote.”
Roxanne felt tears burn her eyes. What had really happened? Why would a newly married young woman kill herself? Who would kill her? It must drive him mad to not know what happened. She cleared her throat. “Your mother is very surprised as well. She believes it is now obvious the baron realizes he was wrong about you, and wishes to apologize to you. Do you think this is true?”
“I don’t know. Richard gave me the opposite impression. We will see.”
“Well, I think it a fine idea to see what he has to say. I would like to see Richard Langworth’s face when he hears of this. I wonder, do you think he will be at Hardcross Manor as well? Do you think his father consulted him? Well, no matter. How many days does it require to get to Cornwall?”
“Three days.”
“We will leave on Wednesday?”
When he walked her to the front door some ten minutes later, Roxanne paused, laid her hand lightly on his arm. “Julian, this is an awful burden for you to carry, both the grief for your wife’s death and Richard Langworth’s belief you were responsible. I am very sorry for both.” And she wondered how he stood it, the not knowing what had happened that terrible day.
He remained standing on the doorstep, watching until her carriage disappeared from Rexford Square.
He received word that afternoon that the Blue Star, six weeks late, had arrived in Plymouth. He was on his way to Plymouth within the hour, Cannon running like the wind.
20
Lemington Square
Corinne pulled off her lovely York tan gloves. “I know only that the Blue Star at last arrived in Plymouth, and my son was gone within the hour on that beast of his. We are to leave tomorrow, yet I have heard nothing at all.”
Roxanne looked up from her sewing. “If Julian said we will leave tomorrow, then he will be back, ma’am. You’ll see.”
“But there might be trouble. It might require a lot of time for him—ah, I shall pull off my bonnet and stomp it. No, everything will be all right. Julian knows what he’s about.” But the dowager duchess continued her pacing, her lovely pale blue skirts sweeping over the Aubusson carpet. “His father was the same way, at least I think perhaps he was. It has been so very long, and I knew him for only a year and a half, but I do remember he was stubborn as a stoat, and if one continued to question him, he became silent as a rock. I was breeding, right away, and I do remember wanting to clout him upon occasion.”
Sophie laughed, couldn’t help herself. “I agree with Roxanne, ma’am. Julian will be here. I am quite interested in meeting Richard Langworth’s father and sister. So he wishes to end the ill feeling? I wonder, does this end it for his son as well?”
“We will see.”
The three ladies looked up to see Julian standing in the drawing-room doorway, Mint hovering at his elbow.
His mother rushed to him, pulled him to her, then pushed him away. “What about the Blue Star, Julian?”
He nodded to Sophie and Roxanne, who were standing next to each other, the light flooding through the bow windows, showing him for the first time the resemblance between aunt and niece—the same tilt of the head, the same winging brows.