unaware that any time had passed.
Now Grandfather was dead and couldn’t use his time tricks to control Eamon anymore. Grandfather was dead, and Eamon had inherited his wealth, his land, and his title.
“Speechless, kitten? Do not think I’ll take you to London to find you a husband, because I will not. Your grandfather ruined you for marriage, anyway. You, Julia, are abrupt and rude. Half unpolished girl, half uncouth boy. Already twenty-two years old, with only a thousand a year upon marriage or when you turn twenty-five.” Eamon shook his head. “It’s a pity. You ain’t a very good prospect, Cousin. You will have to stay and be a comfort to me in my bachelorhood. And when I find a wife, I’m sure she won’t mind having a spinster cousin to help her tend the babes.”
Julia was losing the battle to stay calm. When she was twenty-five she would be free . . . but that was three years away. Grandfather should have thought about this. But he had considered himself invincible, a lion. “Time for that tomorrow!” She could almost hear him say it. He was a dead lion now. A tear coursed down her cheek, and she dashed it away angrily with her fist. She took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves, but her hands were shaking in her lap.
“Fascinating,” Eamon said. “Are you crying because you don’t want to give up your place in the household to another woman? Or because Grandpapa didn’t give you more money? Neither reason is very flattering, kitten. You are either selfish or greedy or both.”
Julia grew cold and then fiery hot. “You disgust me. If Grandfather were here he would—he would—”
Eamon raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “You stammer when you are angry. It is almost charming.” Eamon got up from the desk and stalked past her until he stood behind her chair. “But I am interested in that hopeless threat you were about to make. If Grandfather were here he would what?”
Julia could smell Eamon’s acrid eagerness. Her stomach clenched.
“What would Grandfather do, Julia?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you do know, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“It had to do with time, didn’t it?”
Julia’s breath caught in her throat. He knew! “I don’t know,” she said again.
“Yes, you do, kitten.” Eamon’s voice surrounded her. “Let me save you the trouble of telling me. The old rogue could pervert the flow of time. He could make it stop. He could do whatever he wanted then. He could quietly rearrange some accounts or some records or some wills to suit himself. Isn’t that so?”
Julia stared straight ahead, her heart pounding. He knew. It was impossible, but yet he knew.
Eamon’s breath tickled her hair; he must be bending over her like a vulture. “Your grandfather could play with time like a child plays with mud, isn’t that right? He was a dirty thief.”
Julia raised her voice before she could stop herself: “Grandfather was not a thief! He only did it when—”
“Aha!” Eamon gripped Julia’s shoulders, pinning her to the chair and pulling the chair up hard against his legs. The breath left her body, and fear stilled her blood. He bent down to breathe in her ear. “He only did it when what?”
Julia held perfectly still for a moment, then burst into frenzied struggle. Eamon held her firmly, pulling her shoulders cruelly back. She kicked and twisted, and his bruising grip on her shoulders released. The chair fell back, and Julia leapt to her feet, whirling to face him. “Do you really want to know, Eamon? Because I will relish the telling of it. He did it when you visited; I saw him do it. He froze you. You couldn’t move, and he tied a housemaid’s apron around your middle. We laughed at you. We laughed in your horrible gaping fish face! We laughed at you for ten minutes at a stretch before he started time up again. Oh!” She pressed her hands to her mouth.
Eamon’s jaw clenched and unclenched. His face changed color, from white to
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