She obviously lacked even an ounce of self preservation, because she continued right on. “And I don’t think it’s fair that you’ve been judged so harshly. With nothing to back it up but rumors. That is why I’m here.”
He barked a mirthless laugh, well-worn bitterness tightening around his heart. “Ah, of course! And you’re going to set them all straight, are you? A word of advice, Miss Bower?—”
“Belle. I amMissRosamundBelle.”
Her name hardly mattered. “People don’t care about the truth. They believe what they want to believe.” If she thought otherwise, then perhaps she hadn’t matured much from that helpless little girl after all.
His hand brushed unconsciously at the edge of his patch.
Behind even the most vicious of rumors, there almost always existed a seed of truth.
Julian stepped closer, closing the distance until she was forced to tilt her chin back to meet his gaze. This move unsettled most people—made them shrink, apologize, retreat.
She did none of those things. She held her ground. To be quite fair, she was taller than most ladies he’d met, and wasn’t particularly delicate either.
But she was still a woman.
Julian halted, just short of outright impropriety. “If you cameseeking the gallant boy who bought you a sweet, you’ve wasted your journey.”
She still did not turn away. And her attention… It made Julian’s skin itch.
He knew the stories she referred to all too well. Stories about a one-eyed duke—an unpredictable monster.
All of it…
True.
There was nothing else to tell.
The door creaked open then, and Mrs. Wetherby, his housekeeper, swept in. Her sharp gaze flicked between them. “Dinner is served, Your Grace. Shall I set a place for your… guest?”
Julian frowned.
He did not entertain visitors and Mrs. Wetherby damn well knew that.
And yet…
“Where is her escort?” he asked his housekeeper. “Surely she didn’t arrive without protection? A companion?”
“Indeed she did, Your Grace.”
He swung his gaze back to his intruder. “Surely not?”
“I am not a child, Your Grace.” Her gaze finally left his. “I am grateful for your hospitality, ma’am, for which I accept.”
Oh…
Hell.
She was either mad or incredibly brave.
Or perhaps a little of both.
And something about that… intrigued him.
But also…
He wasn’t so monstrous that he’d send a vulnerable woman into the darkness. With that thought, he allowed his gaze to trail over her almost ruthlessly. And that cloak she wore draped over her shoulders? It did little to conceal the generous lines of her figure.