“Yes, but that does not matter now. The battle has already been lost; just ensure that we do not lose the war.” Julian shook his head as he followed his family.
***
Julian sighed heavily as they entered the large building in Mayfair where the art exhibition was to be held.
His mother and sister had been particularly chatty during the carriage ride, and Benedict had let slip that he had, in fact, enjoyed his dance with Miss Arabella Tremaine. They seemed utterly enthralled by the news and left Julian to his thoughts, something that he was grateful for.
Yet the feelings of gratitude quickly left him when Eleanor made her way over to them as soon as they entered.
“How wonderful it is that we have all had the same idea this afternoon.” Miss Everet cooed as she hooked her arm through Julian’s despite his reluctance to offer it to her.
“I dare say that it is less of a coincidence when my mother and sister were speaking of it only last week, Miss Everet,” Julian replied stiffly. His response only seemed to throw her for a second before she regained her composure.
“Well, it is only a pity that I was not invited to the masked ball. And to think, I was not invited, but that silly American was,” she sniffed with an air of someone who had been deeply offended.
Julian stiffened instantly. He had forgotten that Eleanor had spoken so harshly of Lily the last time he had seen her.
Lily?
His thought froze mid-sentence when he realized that he was thinking of her by her first name, and not Miss Prescott.
Juliette seemed to want to do damage control as she glanced at Julian and smiled. “We actually met Miss Prescott at the ball.She is quite lovely, and you and Arabella Tremaine have never been close, Miss Everet. I suspect that is why an invitation was not offered.”
Eleanor narrowed her eyes slightly as she shot a scathing look at Juliette. “Never mind that, I am sure it was just an oversight. I will have Mama ensure that we will be invited to the next ball,” she gripped Julian’s arm a little tighter and began to pull.
“Will you show me the paintings, my lord? I am afraid that I do not know much about art and will need a chaperone.” She dragged him along without waiting for an answer.
Glancing back over his shoulder, Julian saw his sister mouthing an apology as Benedict began to follow.
They walked along galleries and hallways hung with portraits as Miss Everet chattered away about the latest fashions and how she did not understand art or any of the paintings.
Julian’s mind wandered to excuse after excuse of how he could escape and excuse himself, yet Eleanor seemed oblivious to his reluctance in the one-sided conversation. He was about to complain of a headache when a familiar scent made him stop in his tracks.
Amber with a hint of roses…
He looked around quickly, feeling his heart jolt when his gaze landed on Lily from across the hall. She was staring up at a painting of a young maiden in a meadow, utterly enthralled by the piece of art.
“Is something the matter, my lord?” Eleanor asked when he skillfully unhooked his arm from hers.
“Not at all, I simply caught sight of someone that I know. I must go and speak to them at once,” He beckoned Benedict to step forward and placed her arm on his friend’s. “I am certain that Mr. Southampton would not mind accompanying you until I return.”
Eleanor’s face fell. “Oh, well, I suppose that would be all right. But you will hurry back, will you not?” she asked more hopefully.
“I will certainly try my best,” Julian fibbed, feeling slightly guilty for not wanting to return at all.
Nodding, Eleanor allowed herself to be guided away by Benedict, leaving Julian behind.
He quickly turned his attention to Lily, who still seemed to be captivated by the painting. A lady who looked somewhat similar to her stood to the side, chatting to some other lady of theton.
Taking his chance, he walked up beside her and stopped, admiring her beauty afresh. He did not think it was possible, but she seemed even lovelier to him than she had done at the ball.
Her elegant white day dress hung past her shoes, while a simple satin shawl had been draped over her arms. The golden strands of her hair had been pinned to the back of her head, exposing the elegant curve of the nape of her neck.
It seemed like forever as he stood there staring at her, and when he finally spoke, she turned to him with an expression of shock. “I would love to know your thoughts on this painting…”
Her mouth opened slightly as she looked at him, that far-off dreamy look still slightly present in her gaze. “My lord, did we… meet at the ball?” Her eyes seemed to be searching his face, landing on his lips before moving back up to his eyes again.
Julian nodded as he felt his lips curving into a smile. “We did, Miss Prescott, both while dancing, and later…” His eyes remained fixed on hers as a slight blush spread over her cheeks. He could not help but wonder if she was thinking of the way he had removed her mask and how intimate that moment had been.