Page 5 of Earl for the Summer
Cassian shrugged, turning the snifter in his hand. “It is necessary.”
He was lonely because he was beastly company nowadays. He’d been volatile company in the past. His roguish reputation had been earned by carousing, behaving like a reckless fool, and bedding women he barely knew. He’d even broken a lady’s heart once because he’d given her reason to hope, even though he’d known he wasn’t the sort of man to ever settle into domestic bliss.
He was too haunted. Too unsociable. Too lost in his own regrets. Too bent by his father’s cruelty. Loneliness seemed asmall price to pay for peace and the certainty that his surliness would harm no one else.
“My request may quell some of your loneliness.”
Cassian shot his brother a questioning look. If this was some scheme of Julian’s to draw him back into society, it was doomed to failure.
“Don’t attempt to save me from myself, Julian. I do not require it, and I do not want it.”
Julian had always been determined to buck others up, to bring cheer to whomever he was able. He gave liberally to charities, hosted village feasts twice a year, and he extended an open invitation to anyone among his acquaintances seeking respite from London’s bustle to join him in Berkshire before and after the Season.
It was as if a light burned bright in him, and he wished to share it, especially when he perceived darkness in others.
Cassian had never been able to make his brother understand that it was not always a simple matter of choosing whether to be bleak or cheerful. For some, dark moods and melancholy were part of their nature. For others, loss and grief weighed on the spirit and had to be endured like a passing storm, rather than shed quickly like a heavy cloak.
“This isn’t about savingyou, dear brother,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “It’s about saving me.”
“What do you need?” Cassian leaned closer.
“I knew you’d help me. As you always have.” Julian reached out and clasped Cassian’s hand. “Though I should be the one aiding you now that I’m earl. Repayment for all you endured on my behalf.”
He’d been his brother’s protector. Though older by a few minutes, which made him heir, Julian’s gentle nature had enraged their father. He’d sought to toughen his eldest son, to harden and shape him, and his methods had been harsh.
Cassian had always possessed the tougher nature, and he’d never been able to bear seeing Julian’s tears or the welts on his skin. So, he’d stepped in, pretending to be Julian when the time for punishments came.
“There is no debt. You’ve given me the lodge, and it’s been my haven.”
“I’ll give you more than the lodge. There’s a manor in Kent near the sea.”
Cassian swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat.
God, how he missed the sea. He did not miss being in naval service, most of the time. But he often ached for sea spray in the air, the crash of waves, the song of gulls. Salt water coating his skin.
“I remember Heveston Hall.” How could he forget the rare visits to the comfortable country house, the majestic white cliffs at England’s edge, and the lure of the Channel’s waters? They’d spent a few summers there while their mother lived. “If you’re offering me Heveston, this request of yours must be weighty indeed. Tell me.”
“I found her, Cass.”
“Found who?”
“My countess, of course!”
Cassian paused with the snifter halfway to his lips. “That’s wonderful, Jules.” He clapped his brother on the shoulder and regretted it when Julian grimaced in pain.
“Hold your congratulations until I tell you the rest.” Julian attempted to sit up a bit straighter.
Cassian assisted him until he was resting more comfortably against a few pillows braced on the bed’s headboard.
“She’s in London,” Julian finally told him. “And I’ve yet to offer for her.” He lifted worried green eyes that matched the hue of Cassian’s own. “So you see my dilemma.”
“I think I do. Especially if she’s a debutante.”
Julian’s mouth notched up at the edge. “Not just any debutante. She isthedebutante. The diamond of the Season. Lady Selina Lytton. She’s a veritable goddess, Cass.” His voice had lowered to a reverent tone. “I love her, and I believe she could love me.”
“Could?”
Julian gestured at his injured leg. “I was felled before I could properly woo her, you see. Bloody damned leg.”
