“What works?” Atticus asked.
“Nothing. This move to Brighton,” Julius answered. “How’s your chocolate?”
“Hot.”
“Blow on it.”
Julius returned his attention to Jane. There was concern and worry in her eyes, but not withdrawal. That gave him hope, because maybe she would give this a chance. Neither of them could guarantee anything, but what if it did work, in whatever form it would take?
Chapter 36
NERVES BIT DEEPLY INSIDE Jane. All day, since she’d parted with Julius and Atticus, her insides had been a riot of emotions. Could this be? How was this possible? It seemed deceptively simple, and she didn’t trust simple. Maybe she didn’t trust it because bad things always happened. But here was this man who had come to her in order to be with her. That was extraordinary, and she was a little terrified of it.
What if he’d come to his senses in a week and decided that Brighton wasn’t for him at all? That could happen. Or it could not. Why did she have to second guess what was to come in the future? Because it would hurt if she started investing herself in this relationship and then he’d decide to leave her behind. It would be like a death, and she’d suffered through that before—had lost absolutely everything, including knowing who she was.
But then, was she the kind of person who backed down from something because she was scared? No, absolutely not. She took the challenges, bore the consequences and stood firm.
Her skirts swayed around her as she walked, a shawl wrapped tightly around her. Tonight she’d worn one of her fine dresses, not the absolute nicest of the ones Eliza had gotten her for her season, but one suited for a supper. Even the more respectable people nodded to her on the street, while they usually ignored her presence or guardedly stared at her.
She was a gentleman’s daughter and she could embrace that role too, at times. It might not embrace her back, but that wasn’t of any real concern. Her interest was in the man who’d come here to spend time with her. Nerves reasserted themselves. No one had ever done that for her—had made such a substantial commitment.
By the address he’d given her, she knew it was a fine house. On most things, Julius Hennington wouldn’t compromise, particularly when he didn’t have to—and why should he? It wasn’t as if she needed him to reject his identity. He was who he was. As long as he gave her the same consideration, because she was who she wanted to be.
The entrance was substantial with two large iron gaslights just above the door.
“Oh. Hello, Mr. Fuller,” she said, not having expected to see the familiar face, but she supposed he traveled wherever Julius went.
“Miss Brightly. It’s a pleasure to see you. Please come in. His lordship and master Atticus are in the salon.”
“Yes, of course,” she said, her nerves peaking again.
They both looked to her when she arrived and Julius rose to greet her. Atticus followed his father’s actions in detail, including kissing her knuckles in greeting.
The house was beautiful. Marble columns and floors. Freshly painted.
“We didn’t bring your painting,” Julius said. “It belongs with the ancestors back in Denham.”
“Of course,” she said, not offended as he seemed worried she would be. “I’m sure it will hold its own in the company.”
“Please, sit,” Julius said. They were being more formal than they ever were, which felt odd. Perhaps this was because neither of them really knew how to proceed.
“I’m dining with you tonight,” Atticus said excitedly.
“Then it will be more amusing for it,” she replied. “What do you think of Brighton?”
“I love the sea. Father tells me in summer, it will be warm enough to swim in.”
“Yes. A few months away.”
Atticus went on to describe some of the other things that had impressed him about the town. Julius sat patiently and let him talk. Julius’ eyes were like dark jewels as they reflected the light from the fire and she felt an intense longing for him. It would have to wait, but there was a deep excitement that he could be hers. They could be significant to each other for a very long time. Or not. This could be short and sweet, but it would be perfect either way it went, she decided.
“Supper is ready to be served,” Mr. Fuller said, quietly entering the room.
The dining room was across the main hallway and brightly lit. This house was much lighter in décor than Denham, the whiteness of the walls amplifying the brightness. A fine table had been set for them and they took their seats. Jane was urged to the other end of the table, and she wondered if Julius had discussed the seating arrangements with Mr. Fuller, as he was giving her the position of the mistress of the house, which may not be exactly how things went.
There was still a substantial discussion to come about how they did this. Julius had indicated previously that marriage was part of his hopes, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for such a thing. Perhaps she never would be and she’d prefer a kind of arrangement where she kept certain freedoms. She didn’t seek the benefits from marriage that other women sought. Her independence was more important to her.
If Julius was unwilling to compromise, they would run into trouble fairly swiftly, and it would be awful, because she’d be in love with him and fundamentally disagreeing about how they were together. Still, this fear wasn’t justification for not seeing how this would go. If anything, Julius had showed her he could be reasonable, and that gave her hope.
Atticus was so very excited about dining with them, and it was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. The food was delicious, which told her that
