Page 72 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
It was elegant and expensive in a dark, sultry way.
“I always learn about my clients,” Julian finally explained, finishing preparing their drinks with a twist of the decanter cap. He grinned at Edmund. “Even the ones that do not turn up. That is one of my ways of staying safe.”
“You knew it was her that night she was supposed to arrive,” Edmund said.
Julian nodded as he handed him his drink. “Indeed. It was surprising enough to see her name, so I looked further into the ton’s current favorite spinster.”
“She is not a spinster,” Edmund bit out hotly, but his reaction only made Julian grin more.
“To the man who clearly likes her, no. But to the ton? You know what they are like. A woman turns one-and-twenty and she is practically an old maid. It is silly, really, for they praise men for getting older and bolder with their inheritances and social reach.”
Edmund lifted his glass in agreement and sipped.
“Besides,” Julian continued, “I saw the two of you from my window.”
“I am starting to think you are running some sort of peeping business here, with how much you peer out of that window.”
Julian laughed darkly. “Only when it pays well enough and all parties consent.” He threw Edmund a wink. “You most certainly had her fleeing down the street, did you not? And then you came to me, pretending to be unaware of who my client was.” He tutted.
But Edmund found himself unable to listen properly. His thoughts were caught on Penelope that night, wincing at how easily she had wormed her way into his mind without trying to.
He stared down at his hands, one resting on the arm of the settee and the other clenching his glass. How could he allow himself to touch her again? She was a pink rose in the middle of a thorny garden, and he could not come to her with bleeding, torn hands. Hands that knew how it felt to drain a life beneath them. How could he dare let himself think of being happy, when for too long all he had known was survival and misery? How could that be any sort of life for Penelope to come into?
He was aware of Julian’s silence, and he eventually looked up. Clearing his throat, he tried to smile as though all was well, but Julian cocked his head.
“Yes?” Edmund asked defensively.
“I know you, Edmund. I know what you worry about.”
There was a pause where Julian waited to see if Edmund would stop him from voicing his guess and Edmund waited to see if Julian would be right.
“You think that you do not deserve her. That she is untouchable by a man with hands that have known the things yours have.”
Edmund said nothing, only stared coolly at his friend.
“Let me tell you something, Edmund. Something that I learned through my own pain and darkness—through endless beds and sheets of my own, through bags of coins and lovers who did not stay until morning. Men like us, men who have known so much darkness,dodeserve respite and happiness. I thought the same as you until I met the lady I was with tonight. She’s made me realize that happiness isn’t bought, and it is not always hard-won either.
“Sometimes, it can be as natural as a woman stumbling into the walkway of your friend’s house. A woman you never expected to meet, but you did. I do not believe in fate, not exactly, but I believe that perhaps something was delivering you a gift for all your years of fighting. Lady Penelope is perhaps a personification of the happiness you do deserve.”
Edmund’s chest was foolishly tight, his throat closing as he answered, “And how do I let myself believe that? How do I make her happy when I cannot even make myself happy?”
“You stop overthinking it,” Julian told him. “You simply do what makes you happy. If that is speaking with her, visiting her, holding her… then you do that. Life is not just shadows and haunted pasts, Edmund. You can find a reason for everything if that is what you need, but remember this: you broke away from that place physically. Let yourself do the same mentally.”
“But my?—”
“I know,”Julian interrupted, and for once Edmund didn’t argue. “But if you can find peace along the way, let it be in the hands of a woman who might want you as much as you want her.”
Edmund nodded, his thoughts heavy but also feeling a lot lighter than before he’d visited his friend. He did not realize there was so much wisdom to be found or vulnerability to be seen in Julian. He hid so much behind the veneer of an expensive escort, both falling into that role out of desire and because he was good at it and earned good money. But underneath it all, Edmund could see the shadows Julian kept hidden. And if he had a lady warming his bed beyond paying for a service, then who was Edmund to hold himself back?
Why was he stopping himself from pursuingsomethingwith Penelope? He did not have to approach her brother. He could merely give her what she had sought the night they met: pleasure without any strings or cost.
“Oh, and Edmund?”
“Hmm?” he returned, aware he still hadn’t properly answered Julian. But his friend would know he had listened to every word.
“I am making a house call tomorrow to service Lord—somebody, so I’m leaving this place empty.” A devilish smirk appeared on Julian’s face. Edmund noticed the slip-up he’d almost made and was again reminded of Julian’s secrets. “It would be a shame if a certain duke and lady did not make full use of it.”
“Are you offering?”
