A Closed Heart by Oster, Camille (guided reading books TXT) 📗

away, and it had a very different class of people than the one he’d waited for her at the day before. This one was filled with finer-heeled patrons, people of his own class. She was the outsider, and perhaps she was making a point by bringing him here. The waiters were cordial to her, but they certainly noted she wasn’t the one paying for the meal.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yes,” she conceded, and he was pleased she didn’t reject this establishment on principle. Instead, she ordered what she wanted and didn’t care if people were casting curious glances at her. They ended up getting ham, boiled eggs and toast. A perfectly serviceable start for the day. “The Royal Pavilion is around the corner,” she said. “It’s a sight to see.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“They don’t visit much,” she said, “the royal family. I understand they don’t like it since the trains started taking day-trippers from London, so it stands abandoned most of the time.”

“I understand it used to be the social center of the entire empire for a while.”

“But like so many things, it fell out of favor,” she said. “It’s quite something. A mad design.”

Everyone knew of the unusual design of the Brighton Pavilion, originally built to reflect the Prince Regent’s view on what the empire represented. “I have been to India,” he said. “Only briefly.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Caius is the intrepid explorer of the family. I, on the other hand, as the heir, couldn’t risk myself with the tropical diseases, but I did sneak one journey in.”

“You wished to have traveled more?” she asked, gratefully accepting her coffee as it was poured for her.

“Of course. Being the heir is sometimes a staid alternative to the more exciting allowance afforded to younger brothers. A tradeoff, I suppose. Caius has done well, through the fortunes given to my uncle. Most second sons aren’t so lucky as to come away with a title. My family has always had a way of making its own luck.”

“You do take care of your own. You have done well doing so.”

He hadn’t known she thought that. In his book, it was a substantial compliment.

“I may not always be vocal about some of it,” he said. “I have actually initiated divorce proceedings. It’s been going on for some while, and the court case itself is likely to happen this summer, if not before. Indications are that the charges will not be contested. There really isn’t anything to contest, given the circumstances as they are.”

“Oh,” she said. Throughout the time she’d known him, and through his sister’s proddings, he’d refused to mention it. “That is wonderful news.” It was so difficult to read her thoughts, but she had agreed wholeheartedly on this point.

“It’s the main reason I was in London. Well, one of them. The parliamentary committees were the other one.”

She took a sip of her coffee, and he wished he knew what she was thinking.

Chapter 33

BRUSH IN HAND, JANE sat by her easel, staring out the window. Her mind was in too much turmoil to paint, unable to even get inspired by anything on the canvas. It was Julius’ presence that had her so off balance, because she was torn. It was lovely to have him. Last night had given her everything she’d missed, and it would be so easy just to go along with it. Julius seemed perfectly happy to do so, but it wasn’t at all practical.

He'd told her he loved her, and she didn’t know what to make of it. Partially, she was in a wild panic.

For a moment, she’d felt this was perfect. They could just be lovers and then he would go back home, and she would resume her life. Many did that.

Taking a deep breath, she watched a seagull out the window, perched on the balcony of the building opposite. How simple was life for a seagull? Food was abundant, no rent to pay. They just lived their lives as the mood struck them. Granted, they did fight a great deal. Perhaps the life of a seagull was more complex than she gave it credit for. Actually, she might paint one into her scene. What reflected Brighton more than seagulls?

Julius had taken himself off to The Albion to rest. He was concerned about being under her feet, which made her wonder what his intentions really were. Because thinking he had no intentions here was silly. He may not voice them, or even be aware of them, but you don’t tell someone that you love them without having some hope for the relationship. It wasn’t difficult to discern what he wanted. He’d even asked for it once—for her to live with him at Denham Hall. And now he was getting divorced. Did this mean his intention was marriage? Perhaps not, if he was adamant that he couldn’t marry someone beneath him, and that wasn’t something she would put up with in the first place. So either his view on her was offensive, or his intention was to marry her. Jane groaned.

A knock at the door startled her and she placed her brush down to go see who wanted her. Unsurprisingly, Julius stood there, looking smart as he always did. “You have good memory,” she said as he’d remembered how to return to her house. “Well, since you’re here, I thought I would perhaps show you the real Brighton.”

“Now I am curious,” he replied.

“Well, we explored your Brighton this afternoon. Now you will see mine.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“No, not just yet,” she conceded. A minute ago, her expectations for the evening had been utterly different, but seeing him, she wanted him to know who she really was—the company she kept, and the places she went. Her Brighton had nothing to do with the refined restaurant they’d eaten at earlier, where well-heeled ladies wiled away a