Heart's Desire

Chapter Twenty-Five

Julian was frustrated. After leaving Charity, he was bent on pinning down Middleford. Typically, he was a patient man when it came to this game of cat and mouse. But usually, he wasn't hunting the man who was attempting to kill his wife.

A smile fought to split his features whenever Julian thought of Charity. In a short time, she and their daughters had become his entirety. If someone would have suggested such a thing, even two months ago, he'd have had them locked up in Bedlam.

When Julian reentered the ballroom, it was just in time to see the back of his quarry. With a silent curse, he watched as Lord Middleford and a gentleman, deep in conversation, left through another set of doors.

Quickening his pace, Julian crossed the parquet floor. He was forced to dodge dancers, gossiping groups and rudely ignored the acquaintances who hailed him. Just as he exited the doors he'd seen Lord Middleford go through, he watched the gentlemen turn a corner. By the time he rounded it, his prey was nowhere in sight. The man must have entered one of the myriads of rooms with closed doors dotting the hallway or gone up or down the stairs to another floor. Hampward Grange was not as large as some of Julian's homes, but it was unfamiliar.

Listening at each door, Julian only found silence. With a soft curse, at losing his quarry, he made his way back to the ballroom. Perhaps Lord Middleford would return soon. Upon entering, a Mr. Ashby whom he'd met earlier hailed him.

As he was one of the gentlemen he'd been rude to previously, Julian made his way toward the man. Mr. Ashby was part of the local gentry. He stood shoulder to shoulder with many of the ladies at the ball and had a shining, bald head.

Just then, Julian saw a woman near the back of the room. She stood by herself, away from any group. There was something familiar about her. The crowd shifted, and he lost sight of her as the dancers, engaged in another waltz, spun past.

Julian became distracted when he spotted Charity, seated with one Lord Sewell looming over her. The man was a disgusting letch. He could just imagine what his wife and Lady Blakemoor were being subjected to at that moment.

Intent on playing savior, Julian murmured to the short gentleman now before him. "Sorry, Ashby. I can't talk right now." The other man turned, and they both watched as Lady Blakemoor and Charity looked daggers at the rake.

"Ah, yes." Ashby likely knew of Lord Sewell's reputation. "Best see to your wife."

With a quick bow, Julian left the man. Slowing, he saw Charity spill her punch and spring up in dismay. He couldn't help but smile as with her quick thinking, his wife saved herself and her friend from Lord Sewell's presence. When he caught sight of the odious man's quizzical expression, he had to chuckle. Julian was confident he'd worn the same more than once while in Charity's presence.

Ignoring the questioning looks his moment of hilarity brought, Julian met Sewell on his way to another, unsuspecting lady. All humor was gone when he stood in the other man's path.

"Lord Sewell," Julian's tone was unfriendly. "I couldn't help but notice you speaking with Lady Blakemoor and Lady Wrotham."

"You sound upset." It was obvious Lord Sewell found this confounding. "I'd think you'd thank me for taking that chit off your hands. Rumor has it-"

Reining in his temper, Julian coldly cut the man off before he said something truly unforgivable. "You're old enough to know one should never listen to rumors. They are invariably false." Glancing pointedly over the man's shoulder at the exit, he intoned, "I believe you've overstayed your welcome. It's likely best you leave before some harm befalls you."