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“No.” Nick chuckled, reaching forward and squeezing her hand to reassure her. “I did not hear much, I swear to you. I only heard that you refused to eat with Robert if he was going to ignore you.”
Giulia sat up straighter. “That, I did. And rightfully so. In this house I am more servant than guest and if the earl would like to treat me as a servant then I will eat like one. Well,” she looked away and then back at Nick, “as near to one as I can. I would not be accepted down here at mealtimes, I am afraid, though I do not blame them. I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
“No, only the earl.”
She smiled to herself and Nick suddenly felt the need to know the secrets of her mind and, if he could, her heart. She raised an eyebrow at him. “He had it coming.”
He chuckled. “You are one of a kind, Giulia.”
Her face sobered and he felt the strings pull on his heart. Squeezing her fingers, he spoke softly. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing.” She laughed awkwardly and shook her head. “My father used to say that to me. Only, he would say, ‘You are one of a kind, Jules, the only jewels I need.’”
“Jules?”
“He insisted I go by Jules after my mother left. I think he was trying to erase every bit of Italian from me that he could. Coming to Halstead and being known as Giulia…well, it is a first for me.” She laughed dryly. “Perhaps I’ve grown bitter toward my father’s name for me because it is how he wrote of me in his periodical.”
Nick reared back. “What periodical?”
Her eyebrows drew together. “The Adventures of Patrick Pepper and His Assistant, Jules. You’ve not heard of it? There were many jests over my name and the jewels that happened to litter his adventure stories.”
“I see.” Though, he really did not. How had he not heard of this?
“The periodicals were how he funded our adventurous lifestyle. We would go on a grand trip and he would gain experience to write into stories, printed as periodicals. It was a cycle, traveling until he tired of it and then returning to London where he would write until he tired of that.” She sighed. “Father always felt antsy, you see. He was never happy settling in one place for very long. And it was a good thing, as far as his profession was concerned. It gave him plenty to write about.”
“But it must have been hard for you, never staying in one place for long. Never having a home.”
She looked surprised at that. “But I did have a home. Home does not have to be a particular building, Nick. What is that anyway but wood or stone? I had my home in another person, in my father’s heart. He may have been eccentric, but he was my home.”
“And now your home is gone,” he whispered. It was all coming together now. “Was it just the two of you on all of these grand adventures?”
She laughed awkwardly. “Um, well, no. Father would hire the occasional servant to accompany us, or when we would arrive at our destination, but most of the time it was Father, me, and Ames.”
“Ames?” Nick pictured a big, brawny man with gray hair and a bristling beard, ready for adventure.
Giulia looked away. “Yes, Ames.”
There was a lot of weight in the name when it left her lips. This was clearly a man of significance. “Who is he?”
“My intended.”
The lemon tart soured in Nick’s stomach. So, perhaps no beard. And most likely not gray, either. A tightness pulled in his chest and he tried to speak as though he was unbothered. “Where is Ames, then?”
“In London.” She sipped her tea before looking back to Nick. “He is building his wood crafting business and then he will send for me. He makes the most beautiful furniture you have ever seen, Nick. I have no doubt he will do well.”
“And you miss him.” It was not a question, for Nick could see the truth in her face, in the way she spoke about this man.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
Nick had been wrong. Giulia was not pretending to have someone waiting for her in order to push him away. For some reason, that rankled more. Giulia truly was unattainable.
Nick downed the rest of his tea and stood. The blood rushed from his head and he swayed as little black dots outlined the edges of his vision. Two small hands slid around his waist, steadying him, and the warmth they brought was more fulfilling than the tea he had just finished.
“Let me help you upstairs.”
He did not argue with her. He braced himself on the back of his chair and Giulia released him to rinse their tea cups and extinguish the fire. She picked up Nick’s candle after pocketing her own unlit one and put an arm around his waist.
“Lean on me,” she said. “I am much stronger than I look.”
