The earl’s lips spread into a smug smile. “It is more difficult than it appears to be.”
Julius gave a reluctant nod.
“I approve. Miss Gideon will make an excellent wife.”
He snorted. “Miss Gideon will make an excellent wife,” Julius repeated back in mocking mimicry. “Audrey has lived under your roof for five months and you still address her as Miss Gideon. Dash it! I hate the formality of the peerage! You are such a stuffy lot.”
Lord Stirling soughed heavily, dropping his gaze to contemplate the intricate navy blue and red Aubusson rug upon which he was standing.
“We could stand to be less stuffy. At least amongst family.” He drew a deep breath. “Audreywill make an excellent wife. You have chosen well.”
Julius huffed. “There was not much choosing.”
His father smirked in response. “I do not believe that is true. The gods themselves may have created her because I think she may just be the perfect match to moderate my rebellious offspring. Minimally, she can patch you up in case of future punctures.”
Julius twisted the ring on his finger in seething resentment. This new rendition of his father was amused by Julius’s troubles. Lord Stirling probably considered the unforeseen betrothal to Audrey as comeuppance for his heir’s prior mutinies. Worse, it might be true.
He just hoped the gods were kind when he presented a new offer to the lady who possessed his heart.
“What of this murder investigation? Is there a risk to your mother and sister?” The earl’s abrupt change in subject was to be expected.
Julius nodded. “There might be. We have guards in the house, but Mother and Penelope should remain home for the next few days until this danger is resolved.”
His father’s face hardened into stern lines. “This is untenable. I expect to meet with the other men, so we may bring this to a quick resolution.”
“Agreed.” Julius hoped his father might assist him with another problem, so this was not the time to resist Lord Stirling’s wishes.
Audrey haddinner with the family, enjoying a conversation with the lively Lady Stirling and delightful Penelope, who was a younger version of the countess. After a warm congratulations on the forthcoming nuptials, along with the European custom of kisses to both cheeks, the countess talked about their adventures in Paris. It sounded like a wonderful place to visit but made Audrey yearn for the simple life she had enjoyed in Stirling. The long nights and endless social events were daunting to hear about.
After dinner, the earl asked Lady Stirling to play the pianoforte, and they adjourned to the music room which Audrey had never visited. It was an intimate room that matched the countess in style, who was wearing an exquisite sea-green dress with froths of white lace which gave the appearance of foam tipping the edges of crashing waves. The walls of the music room were covered in bronze-green wallpaper, and the floor wasadorned with a rich rug woven in an elaborate radial design of red, ivory, and gold.
Penelope and Audrey crossed the room to sit on red silk chairs with gilded frames while Lady Stirling headed toward the fortepiano by the windows overlooking the shadowed gardens. The instrument was a work of art—elegant casework in mahogany with a flame maple interior and fine ormolu mounts.
Gathering up her music sheets, the countess took her seat on the bench, and Lord Stirling followed her to lean against the instrument in a relaxed pose of a man satisfied to spend the evening with his wife. Soon she began to play a popular Irish aria while Lord Stirling moved the pages, his expression one of fascination as Lady Stirling sang in a clear, perfect pitch.
The two young women listened with raptured attention. The countess was accomplished at both the instrument and singing, befitting the talent to be found in an opera house.
Audrey’s thoughts drifted to her impending nuptials with Julius and her hopes of securing his attentions, entering a dreamlike state that must be ascribed to her lack of sleep as the beautiful music swept over the room like emotional recollection of times gone by.
After a few minutes, she noticed that Julius’s sister was staring out the window at the setting sun with what appeared to be yearning. Audrey realized that soon she and Penelope would be sisters, so mayhap she should make an effort to build a relationship with her.
“It must have been interesting to come out in Paris?”
Penelope smiled. “Paris is a beautiful city, and the fashions there are so sophisticated compared to England. I believe Mama will be quite disappointed when she realizes she must return to London modistes for her attire.”
Audrey nodded, thinking about the expression of longing she had seen on the young woman’s face. “Did you meet any interesting gentlemen in Paris?”
Blinking as if returning from far-off thoughts, Penelope hesitated. Audrey perceived she must be considering that they did not know each other well. Perhaps reaching a similar conclusion to Audrey’s regarding their new relationship, she finally responded. “There was one. I was hopeful he might announce his intentions, but when I told him I was returning to London … he did not appear moved in the least. He wished me a safe journey and …” She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes falling to her lap where her gloved fingers toyed together.
“You hoped for a match?”
Penelope gave a short nod, her expression sad, and Audrey wished she could think of something comforting to say. She felt a tormented understanding because Penelope had lost her gentleman and been parted by hundreds of miles, while Audrey was to marry the gentleman who held her heart. They could not be more different, yet in the same predicament. Apparently, they were both lovesick for gentlemen who were all too willing to forget them.
Watching the earl in his blissful reunion with Lady Stirling, it made her want to cry. The couple were overjoyed to be together, their love evident. She wished Julius would look at her with the expression of boundless affection the earl displayed as he moved the music sheet for his wife so she could continue to play.
“Perhaps he will follow you to London,” Audrey proffered, knowing her optimism was prompted by her own hopes to win Julius. Yet, she supposed, if she could not win Julius’s heart, at least she was gaining a new family. It was strange but comforting to consider she would no longer be alone.
Penelope sighed. “Perhaps.”
