A blush filled Her Grace’s cheeks. “Whatever are you thanking me for?”
“For caring about me.”
As Adairia and the countesses continued on ahead, Julia and the duchess moved at a slower, more measured pace. “I’m not the only one, you know.”
Julia looked off to the other women, Adairia still laughing and the older women on either side of her still arguing. “No, I do know that.”
The duchess grunted. “I wasn’t talking about those ladies.” She paused. “Though they do, of course, care about you.”
Julia cocked her head.
With an exasperated sound, Her Grace tossed her arms up. “I’m talking about Harris.”
Harris.
Julia’s heart sped up. Just the mention of his name would always have that effect upon her.
“I’ve never seen a soul worry about a person the way Harris fretted over you.”
The duchess’ words sent Julia’s heart soaring before she recalled his anger and his absence these past days. “Indeed?” she said sadly. Because, really, what else was there to say? There was so much between them. Too many lies to overcome. Certainly for a proud man like Harris, who’d been wronged once before by another woman.
“If you were feeling more yourself, I’d give you a gentle cuff for that sad little look you’re wearing,” Her Grace chided. “That boy never left your side. From the moment he carried you in, to when the doctor arrived, and then when you finally awakened, he was there. I never saw him as heartsick and fearful as I did while he waited for you to come to.”
He… was? Surely that meant something.
The duchess took Julia lightly by the arm and helped her up over the slight rise. “I… had no idea.”
“I’m sure there’s a reason he’s not come around.”
Except, his absence no doubt meant… more. Knowing the honorable man Harris was, he’d have felt guilt, a sense of obligation and responsibility for her leaving and everything that had transpired after at Rand Graham’s.
They came to a stop. Overhead, the trees danced in a soft spring breeze. As those emerald-green leaves swayed, they allowed a streak of sunlight through, and those warm rays set a glimmer upon the lightly rolling river.
Julia bit her lower lip as she registered the place where the duchess had taken her.
Of course, knowing the story Harris had shared, it made sense. This was a place where the duchess and her friends had taken him when he’d been a boy. And as such, it would be a place the duchess would take Adairia to, too. But being here again, now… with the memories of that day.
“Julia! Auntie!! Come!” Adairia called from where she and the countesses stood, observing the pink pelicans. The young woman waved her arms with a girlish exuberance.
The duchess made to leave, but then, seeing Julia remained where she was, she stopped and gave her a questioning look.
“If it is all the same to you, I am going to rest for a bit.”
“You’re certain you are well, girl?”
“I’m fine,” Julia hurriedly assured her.
Her Grace assessed her for a moment longer, as though considering the veracity of that claim. And then, with a little nod, she continued after Adairia.
Julia remained there, borrowing support from the cane, and stared on as the duchess joined her niece. Laughter from that pair, one lilting, the other slightly rusty, melded. There had been the reunion Adairia had always longed for. And yet, so many years had been lost between the two of them. Adairia had never got to have that same reunion with her parents. Even with those great and tragic losses, they’d forgiven Julia for her mother’s sins… and her father’s. It was a forgiveness she was undeserving of. And yet, selfishly, she’d found a home here. Far greater than the one she’d ever known with the woman who’d birthed her or the father whom she’d never even met. In short, she’d found… a family in Adairia’s. It was the most wondrous of gifts, and perhaps she shared her father’s soul after all. Because this… all of this should have been enough.
Adairia.
The duchess.
The countesses.
Four women who loved her as their own, and the security and safety they’d granted Julia by taking her in.
But, God forgive her, it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.
She wanted him.
Julia briefly closed her eyes. Harris.
The wind stirred, and the leaves rustled once more, an echo of his name contained within that gentle swishing.
Opening her eyes, Julia turned and ventured into the slight clearing of trees, limping slowly over to that private copse that she and Harris had made theirs, and stopped.
She blinked slowly.
For surely he’d always exist as he was in this place he was now, because her memories of that morning would forever prove strong. And yet, no matter how long she stood there, no matter how many times she lowered and lifted her lashes, the sight remained. He remained.
Seated atop a boulder, he tossed something at the water.
From the corner of her eye, it glimmered before landing with a plunk and sending a wave of ripples fanning out upon the Serpentine.
“Harris?” she whispered.
He stilled, so silent and motionless she expected she had imagined him being here with her.
But then he spoke.
“Do you know, I have come here for the past seven days, Julia,” he murmured.
Befuddled by his presence, and the fact he was here even now speaking to her, Julia shook her head before remembering that he wasn’t looking at her. “No,” she said. “I did not know that.” Because she’d not known where he’d been. Only that he’d not been with her and that her heart had hurt from missing him.
Slowly, he stood and faced her.
Stripped of his jacket and cravat, in nothing but his white shirtsleeves, breeches, and boots, he had an endearingly rumpled
