Then her father had died, and their roles had reversed.
He glanced down at his glass and was surprised to find it empty. Grimacing, he gestured for another.
A few moments after the waiter brought him his second drink, an acquaintance of his slid into the chair opposite him. Christian Hunter, Viscount Harding, had been a schoolmate of Julian’s younger brother, Ethan. The two had been very close, but he didn’t know the man well at all himself. Still, he welcomed the interruption of his maudlin thoughts.
“Basingstoke,” Harding murmured. “May I have a moment of your time?”
Julian raised a sardonic brow. “Seems you already have it.”
Harding had the good grace to flush a bit. “Sorry. You seem as though you’re enjoying your solitude tonight, but I wanted to ask something of you, and I’m not certain when I’ll next have a chance to talk to you alone.”
Julian frowned. “This sounds serious.” He couldn’t imagine what the man wanted from him.
“It’s about Ethan,” Harding said, lowering his gaze to the table. “I need him to come back to England.”
The mere mention of his younger brother tied Julian’s heart in knots, as it always did. He missed him dreadfully, longed to set things right between them, but he didn’t have the faintest clue where to start.
“I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong person,” he said sharply. “Surely, you know that Ethan hates me. I’m the last person who could convince him to do anything.”
It had been Ethan’s idea to go ice skating on the pond behind the castle, even though their father had strictly forbidden them from doing so until he had a chance to test the ice. However, their father had been in London, and they hadn’t known when he’d return. Ethan had convinced his twin, Elizabeth, to join him. When she’d fallen through the ice, their older brother, Nathaniel, had tried to save her, only to fall through himself. Ethan had run for help, but by the time he’d come back with a rope and some of the groomsmen, it had been too late. Nathaniel and Elizabeth were already gone.
Their father had blamed Ethan, beaten him senseless, then sent him away to school. Julian had parroted his father’s hateful words, lost in his own grief and despair. He’d realized fairly soon after that he’d been wrong, that it had simply been a horrible accident, and that Ethan wasn’t to blame. Hell, he’d gone out on the ice himself just the day before. It could just as easily been him that Nathaniel had died saving. But by then, the rift had already been made, and he’d never known how to breach it.
Was he forever doomed to drive away those he loved most?
Harding sighed. “He stays in South America because he believes you hate him. I just thought that perhaps it was time the two of you talked. That perhaps if you asked him, if you made sure he knew that you no longer blamed him for the past, that he might come home.”
Julian frowned. “Why do you need him to come home?”
“He’s my best friend, and I miss him,” Harding said simply. His voice broke and he looked away. “I’m very sick, and I want to see him again while there’s still time.”
For the first time, Julian noticed how pale and thin Harding had become. He would have assumed he’d simply been spending too much time drinking and partaking in the seedy underside of Society if the man hadn’t confessed his illness. Sudden sympathy for the man flooded him.
Perhaps fate had a hand in this. Maybe it was time for him to mend his fences with JaneandEthan. Harding’s illness reminded him that life was fleeting. If he didn’t apologize now, when would he? His time wasn’t infinite.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked Harding.
* * *
LATER THAT EVENING, lying alone in his huge bed, Julian found himself taking a long hard look at his past. He forced himself to confront his actions regarding Ethan and Jane, and he found himself ashamed to the depths of his soul.
He’d loved Jane, truly loved her. She’d once been the most important person in his entire world. He’d been so damaged and broken, but she’d somehow managed to put him back together again, piece by careful piece, with her kindness and purity of spirit.
She’d given her love unconditionally, never asking for anything in return. How could he have walked away from that?
Every moment he’d spent in her company during the last week had only served to crack his heart open a little more, until the love he’d once had for her had returned and even multiplied. It had all made him realize how tired he was of the life he’d been living. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Michael he only intended to marry for love. He knew now that all this time he’d been searching for what he’d found with Jane when he was young.
How foolish he’d been to think that he’d find that sort of connection and respect again.
The big question, now that he’d found that feeling again, was what he planned to do about it.
He punched his pillow and turned on his side, gazing into the dying flames of the fire.I want to marry her. I never should have let her down, and if she’ll have me, I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life making it up to her.
Once the thought entered his mind, it wouldn’t leave. He’d always been meant to be Jane’s husband. She suited him so perfectly, the perfect combination of innocence and sensuality, a friend he could count on, no matter what.
Now all he had to do was convince her that she could count on him as well.
It wouldn’t be easy, given the terrible mistakes he’d made in the past, but he’d changed. He was ready now, and somehow, he had to make her see that.
