Caroline grasped his hand tighter. “No. His name is Timothy Walters. He is an admirer. An unwelcome one. I had hoped to avoid him this evening but he has managed to run me to ground,” she replied. The earlier haughtiness in her voice disappeared.
“I take it you don’t share his sentiments or affections,” he said.
“No,” she replied.
Julian had heard it all before. His mother’s constant lament at having been forced into an arranged marriage with his father. How her ethereal beauty had been squandered on a man who was short and fat. She was a shining light of London society, while the late Earl Newhall had been little more than a boring country squire.
The fact that he worshipped his wife and did everything to make her happy mattered nothing to her.
Her disdain for her husband had then been transferred to her son from the moment of his birth. Julian’s mother had never attempted to hide her disgust at his very existence.
“Are you here with someone who can take responsibility for your safety? You cannot hide out all evening on the dance floor,” he asked. He had no intention of becoming the man responsible for protecting her.
The sooner he was rid of the tiresome Caroline Saunders, the better. Women like her would never be satisfied with their choice of husbands. Pity the poor fool who did marry her. He, for one, was determined not to be a cuckold the same as his father had been.
Her shoulders dropped. “Yes, my brother, Francis, is in the card room. If you could see your way to accompanying me to locate him, I would be forever in your debt. He is a very tall young gentleman with a shock of white hair, he should be easy to spot in the crowd. While I don’t wish to cause a public scene, I fear that if I am forced to speak to Mister Walters, I may not be able to hold my tongue.”
Having already been on the receiving end of Caroline’s fiery temper, Julian did not wish to witness it a second time. “Of course.”
They fell silent, after which Julian was content to let his thoughts wander as he continued to pull Caroline skillfully through the turns of the waltz. When she stepped closer to him, and he was forced to adjust his hold on her waist, he did his best to maintain the distance between them.
At the end of the dance, he quickly ushered Caroline from the dance floor and went in search of Francis. Her brother could deal with his self-centered sister. Francis, however, was not in the card room.
She turned to him, then nodded toward the doors which led outside to the garden terrace. “He may have gone out into the garden to smoke a cigar; he does do that at times. I shall see if I can locate him outside,” said Caroline, stepping away from him.
Julian kept his hold on her arm. She was still his responsibility and he was most definitely not going to let her go outside on her own. It was a crowded party, but if her unwelcome suitor had it in mind to find her, he would. Julian was not going to let Caroline go until he delivered her safely into the hands of her brother. “Let me help you. One of the benefits of being as tall as I am is that I can spot people in a crowd.”
His mind now occupied on finding Francis Saunders, Julian failed to see his mother when she appeared from a nearby room. By the time he did see her, it was too late. The countess crossed his path and then stopped. She turned and gave both him and Caroline a look that would wither grapes on the vine. “Newhall.”
“Your Highness,” he replied.
His mother’s eyes sparkled at the acknowledgement of her exalted status. Her new husband was of royal Austrian blood.
Caroline dipped into a curtsey, giving his mother the respect to which her title deserved. Julian knew the woman herself did not merit any sort of deferential treatment.
The countess did not acknowledge Caroline’s elegant manners. “I see you have put on weight Newhall. I hope you know the name of the tailor the Prince of Wales uses, because from the look of your girth, you shall also require his services shortly,” she sneered.
Julian ignored the spiteful and unfounded comment and dipped into a respectful bow. Years of his mother’s constant berating of him for his physical appearance had afforded him a degree of thick skin when it came to her barbed insults. “Mother,” he replied, loudly enough so that others around may hear.
The downturn in the corner of her lips was payment enough for him. The former Countess Newhall had always been one to lie about her age. Having a fully-grown son was not something she would appreciate being mentioned in public.
When he lifted his head, his gaze fell upon the emerald and diamond choker which the countess wore at her throat. A pair of emerald drop earrings completed the set.
He gritted his teeth. They were part of the Newhall estate collection. She had taken them, along with a number of other priceless pieces of jewelry, when she’d abandoned Julian’s father and fled to Austria to be with her royal lover. She had no right to them. None at all.
“Madam, those jewels do not belong to you. I demand that you return them, along with the other estate items you still have in your possession forthwith. I can supply you with a list if you require one, starting with the Crusader Ruby,” he said.
The ruby and diamond necklace had been the centerpiece of the Newhall estate jewels for more than seven hundred years. To this day, Julian could not understand why his father had let the symbol of his family’s honor be taken out of England. To be stolen by a woman who hated the very sight of him.
“As you have not yet married, that still leaves me as the Countess of Newhall. So, I am fully within my rights to wear them,” she tartly replied.
Julian held back the satisfied grin he would have loved to have shown her at that moment. “Actually, madam, since you have remarried and are now the Countess of Lienz, your point is mute. You are no longer the Countess Newhall. I would be happy to speak to the count about recovering my property, if you so wish.”
Word of his mother’s marriage had reached him while he was working in Paris. She was now the wife of an Austrian count, the same man she had run off to be with all those years ago.
She waved her delicately painted, evening fan in his face. “Oh, very well. I shall call upon you tomorrow and you may have your trinkets back. To be truthful, they are rather garish. The gold on the tiara your father gave me has tarnished somewhat, which I suppose is what comes from cheaply made goods.”
Julian was quickly tiring of the encounter with his mother. It had been more than ten years since he had last seen her, and the enmity between them had not lessened with time.
