Read Online Twelfth Night Secrets by Jane Feather - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jane Feather
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did Elizabeth some sterling service, presumably enriching her treasury with his thieving, and she gave him an earldom in return. Charles I conferred the ducal coronet on the fourth Earl.”
She moved along the wall, stopping in front of a gentleman in full Cavalier regalia. “He went into exile with Charles II and became known as something of a hell-raiser after the Restoration. Nick and I used to speculate on how many illegitimate children he had and whether there’s an entire branch of Fitz Deveres somewhere in the country.”
“And is there a portrait of your own father?”
“Yes, over here.” She turned and crossed to the opposite side of the gallery. “Our father, Lord Edward, and our mother, Lady Charlotte.” She gestured to the two portraits side-by-side.
Julius examined them with his head slightly tilted. “Mmm. As I said before, the Devere family resemblance is very pronounced, but you have your mother’s forehead and chin, I believe.” He put his hand on her chin and turned her face slightlytowards him, regarding her with a quizzical smile. “Yes, most definitely. The widow’s peak is exactly your mother’s, and this rather stubborn chin.” A finger traced the curve of her chin, and then his hand dropped to her shoulder, resting lightly as he continued to scrutinize the portraits, as casually as if he were unaware of it.
Harriet froze beneath the touch. It was warm and light, and one finger moved almost absently up the column of her neck. She wanted to move away, to say something, anything to break this moment of physical contact. But something kept her right where she was, unmoving, feeling the warmth of his hand, the light stroke of his finger along her neck. He said nothing, seemed not to consider his position in the least out of place.
Did he know what he was doing?
“It’s strange how I feel I know you, Harriet,” he said in the sudden tense silence. “It must be because I knew Nick so well, and you are so very alike.” His tone was as light as the caressing finger. “Nick always called you Harry, but perhaps I may not presume that far.” He moved his finger to her chin again, turning her face to his. “May I?”
Harriet swallowed, fighting myriad sensations, someunwelcome, some oddly pleasing, all of them unfamiliar. “No,” she said abruptly. “That is a family name, Lord Marbury.”
He inclined his head in calm acknowledgment. “I understand. But you will not object to Harriet ?”
Did she? She shook her head. “Not really. It is my name, after all.”
He gave a slightly twisted smile. “Not the wholehearted endorsement I might have wished for. But I’ll take what I’m given. You will call me Julius.”
It seemed like a command, she thought. “I’ll have to see about that, sir. Shall we continue with the tour?” She moved away from him at last, and his hand fell from her shoulder, leaving an oddly cold patch on her skin. “This particular ancestor went to the wars with the Duke of Marlborough.”
Julius followed her, wondering a little what he thought he was doing. He hadn’t intended to touch her, or even to invite this first-name play, but somehow it had just happened. He was not accustomed to acting on impulse, but he found Harriet Devere a challenge, and he was not in the habit of ignoring challenges. He didn’t know why some of the time she seemed to have taken a dislike to him, and at other times her smile, her ready chuckle, the sparklein the green eyes seemed almost like an invitation.
Oh, yes, she was certainly a challenge, but a most attractive and appealing challenge into the bargain. No wonder he was more than ready to rise to it.
“Where did you say you met Nick?” she asked, coming to a halt in front of the portrait.
“In Paris, two years ago.”
“Ah, yes, I remember now.” She kept a safe distance between them. “Paris was hardly a comfortable place to visit two years ago.”
“No, but the Directory had been appointed, and the Terror
She moved along the wall, stopping in front of a gentleman in full Cavalier regalia. “He went into exile with Charles II and became known as something of a hell-raiser after the Restoration. Nick and I used to speculate on how many illegitimate children he had and whether there’s an entire branch of Fitz Deveres somewhere in the country.”
“And is there a portrait of your own father?”
“Yes, over here.” She turned and crossed to the opposite side of the gallery. “Our father, Lord Edward, and our mother, Lady Charlotte.” She gestured to the two portraits side-by-side.
Julius examined them with his head slightly tilted. “Mmm. As I said before, the Devere family resemblance is very pronounced, but you have your mother’s forehead and chin, I believe.” He put his hand on her chin and turned her face slightlytowards him, regarding her with a quizzical smile. “Yes, most definitely. The widow’s peak is exactly your mother’s, and this rather stubborn chin.” A finger traced the curve of her chin, and then his hand dropped to her shoulder, resting lightly as he continued to scrutinize the portraits, as casually as if he were unaware of it.
Harriet froze beneath the touch. It was warm and light, and one finger moved almost absently up the column of her neck. She wanted to move away, to say something, anything to break this moment of physical contact. But something kept her right where she was, unmoving, feeling the warmth of his hand, the light stroke of his finger along her neck. He said nothing, seemed not to consider his position in the least out of place.
Did he know what he was doing?
“It’s strange how I feel I know you, Harriet,” he said in the sudden tense silence. “It must be because I knew Nick so well, and you are so very alike.” His tone was as light as the caressing finger. “Nick always called you Harry, but perhaps I may not presume that far.” He moved his finger to her chin again, turning her face to his. “May I?”
Harriet swallowed, fighting myriad sensations, someunwelcome, some oddly pleasing, all of them unfamiliar. “No,” she said abruptly. “That is a family name, Lord Marbury.”
He inclined his head in calm acknowledgment. “I understand. But you will not object to Harriet ?”
Did she? She shook her head. “Not really. It is my name, after all.”
He gave a slightly twisted smile. “Not the wholehearted endorsement I might have wished for. But I’ll take what I’m given. You will call me Julius.”
It seemed like a command, she thought. “I’ll have to see about that, sir. Shall we continue with the tour?” She moved away from him at last, and his hand fell from her shoulder, leaving an oddly cold patch on her skin. “This particular ancestor went to the wars with the Duke of Marlborough.”
Julius followed her, wondering a little what he thought he was doing. He hadn’t intended to touch her, or even to invite this first-name play, but somehow it had just happened. He was not accustomed to acting on impulse, but he found Harriet Devere a challenge, and he was not in the habit of ignoring challenges. He didn’t know why some of the time she seemed to have taken a dislike to him, and at other times her smile, her ready chuckle, the sparklein the green eyes seemed almost like an invitation.
Oh, yes, she was certainly a challenge, but a most attractive and appealing challenge into the bargain. No wonder he was more than ready to rise to it.
“Where did you say you met Nick?” she asked, coming to a halt in front of the portrait.
“In Paris, two years ago.”
“Ah, yes, I remember now.” She kept a safe distance between them. “Paris was hardly a comfortable place to visit two years ago.”
“No, but the Directory had been appointed, and the Terror
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