Page 6

In his bedchamber at Rose Crest House, his grandfather’s London residence, Julian rubbed his forehead, removed the patch from his left eye and flung it across the room before pressing his palms over both eyes in an attempt to blot out the last four hours of his life.

If there was any sort of God in heaven, would that the last twelve months could be wiped away and he'd go back to the fateful day when an explosion in the mine cost him the sight in his left eye.

And the love of Lady Edna Horsely. Their courtship had been a happy time in his life, borne of affection and attraction shared between them for many months.

She had been by his side during his initially, but when it became evident he would never see with his left eye and would forever be cursed with a patch and puckered flesh, she had suddenly run off to London and married a duke within sixty days.

So much for the course of true love .

This evening had done even less to relieve him of that notion.

After the disastrous dinner at Darlington House, Maxwell, undaunted, had included Julian in an invitation to a ball. Maxwell had done his duty by introducing Julian to a bevy of young ladies, but all of them seemed completely focused on the patch over his eye.

Even Maxwell could not cajole Julian out of his sour mood and as soon as he could politely do so, he had made his excuses and left.

Was he really such an unwelcome suitor?

A glance in the mirror answered his question. His left eye, though not sealed shut, looked about without any purpose and scars marred the side of his face, down his neck and even beneath the cravat at his throat.

The flesh was no longer angry red as it had been for weeks after the explosion, but the difference in his two profiles could not be denied.

He blew out his breath in a sigh.

If he could not find a bride, he would lose his claim on the copper mine. And without the mine, he could not provide a dowry for Penny.

Surely there was at least one suitable woman in all of London who was simply desperate enough to have him. Hell, he would even take an unsuitable one. His grandfather had made no stipulations on the quality of the woman, simply that he must obtain a bride.

His frustration grew to the point where he was close to giving up. Why in heaven’s name had the man who loved him beyond all measure set him on such a cruel course?

Because otherwise you would hide away and never have a family of your own.

Yet, who would have a man with all the scars he carried?

A knock on his door drew him out of his reverie. Though he was tempted to ignore it or call out a few caustic words to convey his wish to be alone, he simply grunted in response.

"Good evening, my lord." Kenley, his valet, stepped into the room with a tray in his hands.

"I thought you might like a bit of a nightcap," the servant said, setting the tray down on a table. A quick glance improved Julian’s mood significantly, though considering the low starting point, improvement would be fairly easily achieved.

However, there was some comfort in it, much as Julian hated to admit it, even to himself.

"Ah, Kenley, you always know just the thing to do.

" The tray contained a tall glass of milk and two slices of bread with jam. The same treat his mother used to bring him when he was ill as a child. Kenley, the son of his grandfather’s steward, had known Julian since they were both quite young and knew all his secrets.

Ordinarily Julian might have been put off by such a childish repast, but it had been a rough evening, on top of an unpleasant month, on top of a godforsaken year.

Bread and jam might not be the answer to all his problems, but for tonight, he would indulge himself in the comfort of food.

He wondered what his mother would think of him now, angry, scarred and apparently abhorrent to the opposite sex.

How did this happen?

The bloody mine, that's how. And yet, it was the mine which filled him with purpose and gave his life meaning. Though born to privilege and educated with the sons of the elite, Julian had found his true passion in working the copper mine which had been in his mother's family for generations.

She had always worn a necklace with a copper medallion on it and sometimes she told him stories about her childhood, spent in the same home where he now lived with his grandfather, as well as his younger sister, Penny, who looked more and more like their mother every day.

The same man who had essentially reneged on his promise to turn the mine over to Julian by adding in the condition that he had to be married before his grandfather turned seventy, which would happen more quickly than Julian cared to admit.

This gave Julian a very small window of time in which to woo and wed a bride.

At this rate, he'd be lucky to find a young lady who would even dance with him or be seen with him in public, let alone share his marital bed.

Kenley went to the corner of the room and retrieved the be-ribboned eye patch which Julian had thrown in frustration.

Kenley smoothed out the ribbons and set it on the bureau with Julian's other grooming accouterments.

Gentlemen of his standing had beard wax or expensive colognes, while Julian's toilette included the blasted patch.

"Thank you, Kenley," he said when he'd finished the last of the milk.

"Will there be anything else this evening, my lord?" Kenley asked, picking up the tray.

"Not unless you can find me a bride," Julian said with a self-derisive laugh.

"Good night, sir," Kenley said, though Julian suspected he wished to say more. He was inscrutable and faithful, the marks of a fine servant and Julian was fortunate to keep him in his employ.

With a sigh, Julian stripped out of his evening clothes, closed the lamp and got into bed with hopes, however futile, that tomorrow would be a better day.

The following morning, Julian had an appointment with his solicitor.

"How nice to see you, Lord Ashford," Mr. Knightly said, greeting Julian at the door of his office.

He moved into the room and Mr. Knightly closed the door before standing behind his desk until Julian had taken a seat.

Leaning toward Mr. Knightly, Julian said, "Have you had an opportunity to investigate the issue about which I wrote to you?"

Mr. Knightly donned a pair of spectacles and reached for a stack of papers before responding.

"Yes," he said. "As a matter of fact, I have.

It is a most interesting proposition you present, but based upon my reading of the law and documents related to your grandfather's copper mine, I am sorry to say I can find no legal basis for you to wrest control of the mine from your grandfather without his consent. "

Julian nodded. "I suspected as much."

"There is one possible course of action." Mr. Knightly removed his spectacles and set them on the stack of papers. "If you were to petition the court to have your grandfather declared mentally incompetent, then the court could vest the management of the mine in you."

Julian paused for a moment, allowing the implications to sink in. His grandfather would be devastated by such an action. Not to mention the fact Julian would be perpetrating a fraud upon the court, for his grandfather remained as sharp and witty as he had ever been.

Ashamed he had even considered taking action against the man who had raised him and loved him unconditionally, Julian shook his head from side to side.

"No, Mr. Knightly, I could never go along with something like that nor encourage you to do so either."

"If you will forgive me for being so forward, my lord," Mr. Knightly said. "I am glad to hear you say it. As your solicitor, it is my duty to apprise you of all legal options, but as I hold your grandfather in high regard, I would not have taken any pleasure in the endeavor."

Julian let out a breath. "Nor I."

"As I have already been overly forward, I hope you will not mind me broaching another somewhat personal topic," Mr. Knightly said with a tilt of his head.

"Go on."

"From my observations over the years, you and your grandfather have always had a warm relationship. What has caused you to consider taking legal action against the man who raised you?"

Julian rubbed at the spot above his left eye.

The one which tended to throb when he was particularly perturbed.

This time his annoyance was self-directed.

"I do not know," he said. "Anger. Petulance, some might say.

My grandfather has announced that when he turns seventy, he will retire and turn the mine over to me.

.. or my cousin, Lord Leonard Tinnitus."

"I do not recall Lord Tinnitus ever having any dealings with the copper mine or other businesses run by your grandfather." Mr. Knightly appeared as confused as Julian over his grandfather’s edict.

"He does the minimum to appease my grandfather, though he has been left in charge in my absence, which makes my return to Hazelden even more urgent."

"Forgive me, but I am very confused by this. Are you certain your grandfather is in full control of his faculties? It would make no sense to turn the mine over to a novice."

Julian had been hoping to avoid coming right out with the reason for his troubles, but it seemed the door had been opened, and he might as well wade all the way into the muck of his own life. At least he knew Mr. Knightly would not be gossiping about him.

"My grandfather has placed a condition on giving me full ownership of the mine," Julian said, rubbing his temple again. "I must be married before his seventieth birthday."

"Oh," Mr. Knightly said and Julian suspected he was trying not to smile. In that regard, he was more in control of his reactions than Maxwell had been. Or ever would be.

"It does put you in a bit of a bind," Mr. Knightly said. "Have you any prospects? Was not there a betrothal some months ago? I believe your grandfather made some inquiries about a marriage settlement."

"It never got to the point of betrothal. I lost my eye and my marriage prospects at the same time." Julian pointed to the patch.

"I understand," Mr. Knightly replied. "Perhaps it was for the best. Sometimes these things happen for a reason."

Julian managed to leave the chambers of Knightly, Dailey, Weakly and Moss without punching Mr. Knightly. Sometimes these things happen for a reason. God works in mysterious ways. It will all work out for the best.

The litany of trite statements he’d had to endure over the past year filled him with barely contained rage.

Sometimes these things happen for a reason. What a bunch of codswallop.

Fraudster Richard Bernard Sentenced to Twenty Years Hard Labor After Guilty Plea

Lord Thomas Winchester read the headline to his wife.

"Oh dear," she replied. "Poor Laurel."

Thomas continued reading. "‘It has been more than a week since Bernard was arrested and charged with fraud. In that time all of his assets have been seized by the crown in order to satisfy his creditors. The list of persons whom Bernard fleeced is being held very close to the vest. No doubt there are many high-ranking members of society who do not wish their names to be revealed as having been taken in by a fraudster, let alone the devastation Bernard’s scheme may have caused to the finances of some of London’s most illustrious families. ’"

"This man has certainly caused a great deal of trouble, hasn’t he, Thomas?"

Thomas’ mouth was set in a grim line as he looked at his wife. "Yes, it appears he has left many in London in a bad way."

"Not the least of which is his stepsister.

I do not believe I will ever get over the sight of him being arrested just as he was going to walk Laurel down the aisle.

Though I shall admit the timing was fortuitous considering the less than gentlemanly way that her groom behaved.

What a cad and no word from him since." She shook her head in disgust.

"I did not have a good opinion of Onslow nor his father when the betrothal was announced but of course even I knew enough to keep my thoughts to myself. I wonder if some of this might have been avoided if I had spoken up," Thomas said.

"I have had the same notion myself," his wife said. "If only there was something we could do to help the poor girl. She cannot stay hidden here forever."

Thomas was thoughtful for a moment. "You know I am hesitant to meddle in the lives of others," he began.

"Indeed. Well I know it, for you do not care for me to do so either." His wife cocked a well-arched brow. "But I suspect you have something in mind."

"I received a most interesting letter today from my friend Lord Ebersole," Thomas said.

"Oh yes. I do hope he is well. I am so looking forward to his birthday party next month."

"He seems as spry as ever, though he did mention an issue involving his grandson…"