Julius was waiting by the fire. He’d changed. What else had he done since they parted company? He nodded when he saw her, and she approached him by the fire and stretched her fingers out to the warmth. “It must get very cold in winter.”
“We keep the main rooms warm enough. Would you like a drink?”
“I’m happy to wait until we’re seated. I think I’ll have some red wine tonight.”
“I think we can probably find a claret somewhere.”
“I do like the Italian wines quite a bit. I think I actually prefer them to the French.”
“That would put you in the minority,” he said.
“There is an Italian establishment close to where I live. They’re generous in sharing their passion.”
“So you claim to also be a connoisseur of Italian wines?”
“Well, I certainly know more about them than I used to. You have a smudge.”
“Pardon?”
Reaching up, she brought her fingers to his cheek. He looked shocked for a moment, but he didn’t pull away this time. Instead he looked straight ahead as she stroked along his skin. The smudge was tiny, likely having come from lighting something. He really wasn’t giving an inch as he tolerated the touch. “There. Gone,” she said.
A tiny smile of gratitude ghosted across his lips, and then he stepped away. It was as if he steeled himself against the touch. “I think supper shall be ready soon,” he said, moving toward the sofa. As he sat down, she noticed that he absently wiped away the touch from his cheek as if it had left a mark on him.
Jane chose to sit exactly opposite him on the other sofa. There was a small table between them. “You hate it when I touch you.”
His mouth opened in surprise for a moment, as if he didn’t know how to respond. “No. It’s just…”
“Intimate,” she filled in.
“Inappropriate.”
“For me or you?”
“For you, of course,” he said.
“I think we have clearly established that I don’t live by those rules.”
“Society needs rules.”
“Society has too many rules.”
“Being an unattached woman traveling to people’s houses, those rules very much keep you safe.”
“The inappropriateness of me touching you? You have, after all, in no way touched me.”
Debating with him was when she had his full attention. He wasn’t dodging her in some way when they were… arguing.
“You don’t want to give the wrong impression,” he finally said.
“Wrong impression? Impression of what?”
“That you are inviting undue familiarity. Based on your character and standing, people make assumptions.”
It wasn’t necessary for him to tell her what people made assumptions about when it came to her. Men made assumptions and she quickly disabused them. Was Julius now making assumptions about her intentions? “I can assure you, such assumptions are quite unfounded.” This was making her uncomfortable.
“Are they? Can they really be called assumptions? Artists are known for being very liberal, and you’ve admitted so about yourself as well.”
“Alright,” she said and rose from her seat. “I think this was a mistake.”
“I’m only pointing out your own behavior.”
“You know nothing about my behavior. You’re the one who’s made assumptions from the moment I arrived. Your assumptions are not my fault, nor my problem.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, not looking directly at her. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you. I only wished to point out that such familiarities can be taken the wrong way, and you are in a vulnerable position.”
Still unsure, Jane felt a little mollified. “So we’re clear, the familiarity I show and my intentions behind them are none of your affair.”
“Even when you show them with me?”
“Next time, I’ll leave you to sit through the entire evening with dirt on your face.”
“Please sit,” he said, indicating to the seat she’d vacated.
There was an awkward silence between them now. In a sense, this did embolden her. She wanted to prod him. “Why are you so disturbed by familiarities? Or is it intimacies?”
“I am not disturbed,” he said, even as he clearly was. He looked at her now. Beautiful eyes. There was something she could capture. Defiance and unease. Maybe it wasn’t appropriate for the portrait.
“What if my intention was to seduce you? It is, after all, what you implied.”
“No, I implied that people, men, could get the wrong impression.”
“You didn’t answer the question. What if the impression wasn’t wrong?”
Unable to look at her, he shifted ever so slightly in his seat. This wasn’t a topic he enjoyed. Flirting wasn’t even in him. That wasn’t the man she’d met when they’d been younger. Arrogant, yes, but not as withdrawn as he was now. Even him telling her she was beneath his regard would feel more comfortable than this withdrawn discomfort. She knew he was attracted to her, but in the time since then, he’d become so withdrawn, he was unfamiliar to himself.
“I’m sure it would serve neither of us,” he finally said.
Honestly, she wasn’t sure that was true, because he could really use being shaken up a bit. Or rather, broken into like a locked and barred house. It was both a disturbing and compelling thought. But really, if anyone needed intimacy, it was him.
Mr. Fuller appeared at the door. “Supper is ready to be served, when you are ready to come through.”
Chapter 21
THE CONVERSATION WAS A little stilted during supper. It felt as if he and Jane had had a tiff. Luckily, he hadn’t been pressed on continuing the conversation around what harm would be caused if she tried to seduce him.
It was a strange notion. Obviously, women had tried to catch his eye constantly while he’d been unmarried. Some even after he’d married, but this felt like something else entirely. It wasn’t as if Jane had proposed anything. The question had
