Page 13 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
“Pardon me. I got carried away. Please, come in.” Julian stepped back, gesturing with his hand for him to enter.
As Julian led him through the corridors, he sighed. “And to think I applied my best scent ahead of your knock. Whydidyou give a lady’s name, or even book an appointment with me?”
“I did not,” Edmund answered once they arrived at the drawing room.
The walls were decorated lavishly, with deep teal and emerald splashed all over the ceiling and the wallpaper. It all hinted at an intimate gathering, and while Edmund knew Julian mostly conducted business in a service bedroom upstairs—not his own—he thought that some activities may have happened here.
He’d already had a long night, so he did not hesitate to sit down in a deep armchair, sighing.
“Hmm.” Julian nodded as he walked to the bar set up against the far wall, pouring two drinks. He offered one to Edmund, who gratefully took it. “Then it appears that our meeting might be cut short if the lady I’m expecting is running late. Or I shall have to follow up with who booked it.”
For a moment, Lady Penelope’s face flashed in Edmund’s mind, but he didn’t say anything about his exchange with her outside.
He would not reveal her identity or presence there. The risks of Julian recognizing her had been her own to take; he would not action them for her. Besides, he wished to stay focused. He needed answers, and he had already let himself get waylaid by Lady Penelope.
“How is business?” he asked as Julian brought the brandy bottle over.
He took in his acquaintance’s attire: a burgundy waistcoat, no cravat, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. He had breeches on that seemed comfortably fitting, his whole aura rather at ease.
“Very well,” Julian said. “You would not believe the client I had only this morning. Well, in all honesty, I do not laugh at her but feel empathy. She was an older dowager, nearing fifty, and she spoke of not having any intimacy for some time since her husband’s death. She teared up halfway through and asked me if she was betraying her husband.” His brow creased. “I told her she was not, but we stopped regardless. I offered her a cup of tea.”
Edmund only snorted, trying to imagine his friend’s bewilderment at his seduction turning into a cozy tea.
“You can be very soft, you know.”
“She reminded me of my former mistress,” Julian admittedly quietly. “I was quite taken with her presence. I do hope she returns.”
“You are after an older woman now?” Edmund teased.
“Heavens, no, but I looked at her and saw Madame Maricel, strangely enough.”
At the name of Julian’s former employer, Edmund’s mouth tightened. “I see.”
“I think of her often,” Julian continued, sipping at his brandy. “She looked after me when I was… well, I suppose you and I were both doing what we had to in order to survive out there. I think of visiting there sometimes.”
“Why?” Edmund’s question came out a touch too sharp. “The Caribbean is the very last place in the world I would wish to go. There are enough horrific memories out there to last me a lifetime.”
Julian was already nodding, shrugging his shoulders. “I know, I know. I only think that it would be something to behold. Going back of my own accord, not because I was forced to be there, to sell myself in such ways.”
“Gray.” Edmund laughed, incredulous. “You are the most renowned escort in London. You can refuse business that you dislike. You have full control of your life now. Do not reminisce on such days. You made it out of that place alive—we both did.”
Julian nodded again, biting his lip, before he looked at Edmund. “Do you recall the day we met? Heavens, it was hotter than an Indian summer out there. I recall being laughed at for being so pale and complaining of being burnt to a crisp beneath the sun. You walked by my spot and stopped. Goodness, do you remember how I called out to you?”
Edmund’s snort was lost in his glass as he drank deeply. “You asked me if I sought a pleasurable time. It seems some things do not get old.”
“Yes, but back then, it was rather serious. I hoped you had the coin for me to… well, escape. You looked well-to-do. Even more so now, of course. I recall you telling me very strongly that you were not looking for any sort of time except to get back to your base. And then you told me, very firmly, that I did not look able to stand for more than five minutes, and therefore I had no hope of showing anybody a good time.” Julian let out a bark of laughter. “Ah, I am grateful I met you that day—misguided seduction aside.”
It never bothered Edmund how Julian spoke of seducing clients, men and women alike. He did not know his friend’s true feelings on such matters and never asked. Some things were private, and he respected that.
“Regardless,” Julian added quickly, knocking back the remainder of his drink. “Congratulations on Logan’s death.” He eyed Edmund for a long moment before pouring himself a second drink. “I never got to toast your freedom, so here. Let us do it now.”
“And yours,” Edmund pointed out.
Julian refilled their glasses, and they clinked the rims together before drinking. It felt strange to toast his own freedom, something he should have had regardless, but the death of his former employer was very much something to celebrate.
As he swallowed, Edmund shook his head. “I should have killed Logan myself.”
Julian frowned, taking a generous swig of brandy. “No. No, you should not have. You are no killer, Edmund. You are a better man than that, and we both know it.”
