Page 37 of Somewhere I'll Find You
In real trouble this time, I'm afraid. Have gotten myself into a duel to be held on the morrow. Request that you act as my second and give some much-needed advice. Please come to Warwickshire at once and save the skin of your only brother.
William
Damon's nerves were suddenly stretched taut with worry. He was accustomed to William's scrapes and mishaps, but nothing had ever come close to this. “God, Will, what have you done now?” A thunderous scowl settled on his face. “Dammit, my brother must be the last man in England to know that dueling is out of fashion.” He glanced up to see a glint of sympathy in the butler's usually implacable eyes. “Apparently William's done it again,” he growled. “This time he's been challenged to a duel.”
The butler showed no surprise. The younger Savage's reckless streak was well-known to everyone in the household. “May I be of some assistance, my lord?”
“Yes.” Damon nodded in the direction of the library. “Tell those two that I've been called away on an urgent matter. Have them reschedule the appointment for next Monday. In the meanwhile, I'm going to write a note to be delivered to Mrs. Jessica Wentworth, of Somerset Street. She is to receive it this afternoon, without delay.”
A cool, misty September breeze swept through the tiny garden in the back of Julia's house. Her loose hair was ruffled and disordered by the wind, and she pushed it over one shoulder. Surrounded by the heady scents of rosemary, wild peppermint, and other fragrant herbs, she sat on a small white bench and opened the letter that lay in her lap.
Dear Julia—
Unfortunately my plan to see you tonight has been altered. I must leave immediately for the Savage estate in Warwickshire to take care of an urgent piece of business concerning my brother, Lord William. I will visit you immediately upon my return to London.
Yours,
Savage
Almost as an afterthought, a last sentence had been added to the bottom of the page.
I have no regrets about what happened between us—I hope you feel the same.
Troubled by the tersely worded note, Julia reread it and frowned unhappily. A sense of uneasiness crept over her. Certainly that last had been intended as some sort of reassurance, but she didn't know if it had the effect of causing her relief or dismay. She began to crumple the letter, but instead found herself holding it tightly against her midriff.
Lord William Savage, the brother-in-law she had never met. She wondered if the lad were really in trouble, or if he served as a convenient excuse for Damon to avoid seeing her. Despite his words to the contrary, it was possible hedidregret spending the night with her. Perhaps it was the conventional thing to tell a woman one had no regrets, even if the opposite were true.
Flushing with shame and uncertainty, Julia wondered if she had displeased him somehow, if he had found her to be less passionate and exciting than Lady Ashton. She hadn't known what to do or how to satisfy him. Perhaps he considered the experience disappointing or, worse, amusing. Damon must have expected to go to bed with an experienced lover, not an awkward virgin.
Julia grimaced and silently berated herself. She had to remind herself that she wanted an annulment, that she could never give up her career and her independence, and live under the thumb of a strong-willed man. It would be a good thing if shehaddispleased him—that way he would agree to end their marriage with no qualms.
The pale golden walls of the Warwickshire castle, looming high and serene over the countryside, gave no clue to the turmoil within. The sun was just setting in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground and striking off the glittering diamond-paned windows of the medieval structure.
Damon had lived here most of his life, forgoing the pleasures a young man could find in London in order to stay with his mother during her final years. She had suffered the long, painful death of a consumptive, and he had suffered with her. He still remembered the many times he had glanced up from a book or paper he had been reading aloud to her, and found her anxious gaze on him. “Take care of your brother and father,” she had entreated him. “They will need your guidance and protection. I'm afraid you are all that will keep them both from utter ruin.” During the five years since her death, he had done his best to keep his promise, although it hadn't been easy.
Striding through the great hall and into the large first-floor parlor, Damon discovered his brother sprawled on a damask-upholstered couch with a glass of brandy in his hand. Judging from his bloodshot eyes and disheveled appearance, it appeared that William had spent most of the day there, nursing his sorrows with the help of a healthy portion of strong drink.
“God, I'm glad you're here,” William said fervently, struggling up on the couch. “I half-thought you'd stay in London and leave me to my fate.”
Damon regarded him with wry affection. “Not likely, after all I've invested in you.”
Moving over to make a place for him, William let out a morose sigh. “I've never dueled before. I wouldn't care to start now.”
“I don't intend for you to.” Damon frowned. “What was Father's reaction?”
“Everyone has conspired to keep him from finding out. With his health so precarious, it would finish him off for certain if he were to hear of it.”
Damon shook his head in disagreement. “Aside from his bad business sense, Father's no fool. He would rather know the truth than have everyone tiptoe around and keep secrets from him.”
“You tell him, then. I can't bring myself to heap such worry on the head of a dying man.”
Rolling his eyes, Damon sat beside his younger brother, plucking the glass of brandy from his hand. “Leave off the spirits,” he advised. “It won't do any good for you to get drunk.” He looked around for a small table to deposit the half-finished brandy. Finding none conveniently close, he downed the last few swallows himself, closing his eyes at the smooth, pleasant glow of the liquor.
“That was mine,” William said indignantly.
Damon gave him a warning glance. “I needed refreshment after my journey. Now why don't you tell me what the hell you've done to get in this mess? I had better plans for tonight than having to come get you out of another predicament.”
“I don't know exactly how it happened.” Bemusedly William dragged his hands through his rumpled black hair. “It was such a little thing. Last night I went to a dance held by the Wyvills, a simple country affair…I waltzed with young Sybill, and we slipped out into the garden…and the next thing I knew, her brother George was challenging me to a duel!”
