Meanwhile…

"What are you doing here?" Lillian asked as James shut the door to the Destlers' library. She stared at the man she'd once loved so well, even now feeling a pang of longing in her chest for him. His eyes were downcast.

"I'm an idiot, Lillian." Mercer said beseechingly, starting toward her. She backed away so suddenly that she collided with James's chest. Turning to glance up at him, she noticed his face was hard and his jaw was set as he glared at Merce.

"I want you to take me back." Mercer went on. James let out a noise between a snort and a growl.

"Over my dead body." Lillian elbowed James sharply, shaking her head at him. Mercer gave him a bored look, ignoring him completely as he returned his attention to Lillian.

"You kept me waiting for five years, Merce." Her voice broke on the word 'five,' and her lip trembled.

"I know…" His voice became tender as he reached for her. She turned away, recoiling from his touch and shielding her face from him so that he did not see the betraying tear that had fallen from her eye.

"I can't." She replied, hating the nasal sound of her voice. Meeting his eyes she attempted to give him a rueful smile. "I don't have five more years to waste, Mercer." Merce smiled at this, stepping toward her as James moved away from her, watching them in horror.

"Lillian," Mercer said, taking her hand. "What if I told you that I was willing to marry you this instant? Take you to a priest this very night if it means making you my wife."

"Absolutely not." James interjected, moving between the two of them and looking down at Lillian with pleading eyes. "After what he did to you?"

"I'm sorry," Merce said, eyeing James. "And you are…?"

"James Westcliff." James told him gruffly, not even sparing him a glance as he gazed down at Lillian. "Tell him to get lost, Lillian. I can remove him for you-"

"Has it occurred to you that she doesn't want me to leave?" Mercer inquired calmly. "I'm not going anywhere unless she says so."

"I could physically remove you." James warned, advancing on the shorter man.

"Oh?" Mercer replied cockily, tilting his head. "Admire her do you, Westcliff?"

"ENOUGH!" Lillian cried, pushing them apart and glaring at James. "This is not your fight." She told him sternly, before turning her fury on her former fiancé. "What happened to your precious, Adriana?" She asked mockingly, watching him wince. Looking pained, he met her eyes. She'd forgotten how lovely his light amber eyes were.

"She wasn't you…" He told her softly, making her heart ache.

"Oh, Merce." She felt tears spring into her eyes as her heart leapt into her throat.

"You aren't actually believing this garbage, are you Lily?" James asked incredulously.

"James." She growled at him.

"Lily?" Merce asked, giving her a questioning look. "Her name is Lillian."

"I know that, you ass. I was the one who had to pick up the pieces when you abandoned her after five bloody years of stringing her along!"

"Stop it." Lillian pleaded, looking up at James. His icy blue eyes were full of pain, making her hurt even more.

"How can you be civil to him after he hurt you?" James asked in a small voice, sounding more vulnerable than she had ever heard him. "After how far you've come these past weeks?" He was begging. Lillian longed to step into the comfort of his arms, but she was held back by her own confusion.

"I don't know!" She cried, hating that James was right. Hating that she still loved Mercer, after everything that had happened.

"I'm staying right here, Lillian." Merce said, putting emphasis on her full name and giving James a triumphant look. "My carriage is waiting outside, we can leave tonight."

"What is going on in here?" Dag Holden's voice came from the doorway.

Papa.

Lillian turned to see her parents standing there, looking at Mercer with equal expressions of disdain.

"I came to beg for Lillian to take me back. To apologize."

"Haven't you done enough?" James asked, folding his arms.

"I know I was wrong." Mercer said defensively.

"I don't like this." Lillian heard her mother say. Papa moved toward Mercer.

"I hate what you did to my little girl, Arnott." Dag said in a voice Lillian had only heard him use a choice few times in her life. "If I had my way, I would have you thrown out on your ass-"

"Dag…sweetheart." Fern stopped him nervously, taking Lillian's shaking hand. Dag nodded.

"But ultimately," Papa went on, "It is Lillian's choice, not mine."

Mercer relaxed, looking remorseful.

"Of course." He agreed. James stood by silently, his face a tight mask of wrought emotions. His blue eyes were imploring.

"I'm sorry." Lillian said to him, aching. James looked away and she had the awful suspicion that he was on the verge of tears. Without so much as a goodbye, he left the room, leaving her along with her parents and Merce. Forcing herself to look away from the door that James had just disappeared through, she took a deep breath and turned back to Merce.

"I don't know if I can forgive you, Mercer." She said, blinking rapidly against her own tears.

"Take your time." Merce said gently. "I'll be here."


2 weeks later

Julienne and Simon settled into a strange routine. Their days were spent apart as Simon met with investors and other entrepreneurs. He had made quite a fortune for himself, being a financial advisor to quite a prime list of clients. Simon had a gift for tripling a fortune within weeks, and had decided to use it in life. Unfortunately, this left Julienne alone most of the time.

She did find other ways to occupy her time, such as rediscovering the sheer joy she got out of putting pen to paper and creating something from it. Some afternoons, she visited with Simon's mother and Anna. Others, she spent with her own family.

At night, Simon went out. To where, Julienne was not certain, but she suspected she would not be happy with the answer. It was no secret that Simon had been a skirt chaser, and he'd not given any indication that he took his vows seriously. To think of her husband finding pleasure with other women before coming home to her bed pained her. And he did come to her bed each night, but was always gone by morning. It was hard for Julienne to believe that the caring and enthusiastic lover at night was completely indifferent to her ever other moment of the day.

She found herself attending more balls and parties, enjoying them more as a respectable matron. Things that were frowned upon for unmarried girls were completely tolerable by other married women. They all offered dry stories about their own marriages and it was comforting to stand with other women and laugh. Julienne had formed her own circle of friends since marrying Simon. Apart from talking at society events, they had teas and went shopping together, which was a nice escape.

Darya Beauchamp, formerly Westcliff, was one of them, Claire of course, though she was now in confinement, Jane, her sister and Amelia Belgrave, her cousin.

Her life would have been lovely if she wasn't so lonely for Simon. Mortifying images of Simon cavorting with other women haunted her daily.

One afternoon, it was raining and Julienne decided to stay home and occupy her time by baking, a pastime she'd adored when she'd lived with her parents. Wandering into the kitchen, she began to rummage through her pantry for the ingredients she needed. Flour, cocoa…

"Madame Reynolds?" A voice made her nearly drop everything she was holding as she whirled to see her intruder. Instant relief filled her when she saw the housekeeper, Bryna Angler standing there.

"Oh dear," Julienne said apologetically, trying to catch her breath. "I'm sorry Madame Angler. It's so dreadful outside and I thought I might bake a cake. Madame Angler lit up in relief, guiding her into the kitchen.

"Wonderful. I'll have Melinda fetch some eggs from the ice box." She said, meeting Jules's eyes with her warm, brown ones.

An hour later, the house was filled with the smell of chocolate cake and Julienne was surrounded by the servants as she recalled stories from her childhood while it cooled on the stove.

"…and then, Claire began to throw her shoes at Charles and poor Bella had to step in between and-" She cut off because she was laughing so hard. "And Bella got hit in the head with the shoe and dropped like a sack of potatoes. She was fine of course, but Claire and Charles got sent to bed that night without dessert." The entire staff laughed at her story, charmed by their new mistress.

Madame Angler smiled warmly at her.

"It's wonderful to hear laughter in this house. Monsieur Reynolds hardly ever laughs."

"I wouldn't know." Julienne replied bitterly. "He's never home."

"I don't think he likes to get very close to anyone." The cook, Monsieur Gautreau said. "He's a secretive sort."

"Yes, well he's got a wife to think about now." Madame Angler said disapprovingly. "A marriage does not thrive on absence."

"If I could only get him to talk to me and open up…" Julienne trailed off, thinking of Rose.

"Hello?" Simon's voice called from the hallway, startling all of them. "Madame Angler, is Gautreau baking chocolate-?" Simon stopped as he entered the kitchen and saw his wife perched on the kitchen table surrounded by his staff.

"Monsieur Reynolds, you're home!" Madame Angler said, signaling everyone to return to work. Simon watched the housekeeper leave before giving Julienne a questioning look as he moved further into the room. She had no idea what to say as she had never spent enough time with him to have a conversation.

"Madame Reynolds baked this cake herself." Gautreau said, returning to his task of peeling potatoes for dinner.

"You bake?" Simon asked in surprise. Julienne nodded shyly.

"Quite well, actually." She nodded. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" She added dryly. Simon raised his eyebrows slightly, but moved past her to inspect the cake, rolling up his shirt sleeves.

"My luncheon plans fell through, so I thought I would come home. It's such a miserable day."

"I was just getting ready to frost it if you'd like to help." Julienne offered cautiously, mixing the bowl of chocolate frosting that she had prepared.

"How did you know that chocolate was my favorite?" He asked, stealing a bit of frosting and eating it off of his fingertip.

"I didn't actually," She replied, ignoring how quickly her heart had begun to beat. "It's my favorite."

"Touché." He chuckled, picking up the spatula and scooping out a glob of icing expertly and spreading it evenly around the cake.

"You've done this before." Julienne mused as he nodded, taking more from the bowl and applying it to the sides.

"My mother loves to bake." He told her, "Much of my childhood was spent in the kitchen with her. She used to give us all jobs to do." He smiled warmly at the memory and Julienne thought he had never looked more handsome than he did now. "I remember for my sixth birthday, Mother let us help her…" He finished, licking the excess off of his finger and offering the spatula to Julienne. "I remember Mother gave us the spoons to lick the batter when she was done mixing it and Rose gave me her spoon since it was my birthday…" He stopped suddenly, looking at Julienne with a hint of panic and pain on his face. She could see the six year old boy there in his eyes. Reaching out, she covered his hand with hers.

"It's all right, Simon. You don't have to talk about it. You don't ever have to if you don't want to." She assured him. A look of gratitude filled his light eyes. They stared at each other a long moment. Silently, Simon took her hand and led her from the room up the stairs to her bedroom. Without a word, he locked the door and pulled her into his arms.

"I've neglected you." He whispered in realization. She had no response and all she could do was stare at him as his lips descended to meet hers. She felt a lump rise in her throat from the extreme relief she felt. Simon's soft, wandering mouth moved to the side of her neck, barely ghosting his lips over the skin and causing gooseflesh to rise all over her body.

She let her head fall back into his large, cradling hand as he nuzzled the valley between her breasts through her clothing. He returned to kiss her lips as his nimble fingers unfastened the bodice of her dress and untied her sash. The garment loosened and he pushed it down over her hips until it pooled at her feet and she was left in her underclothes. He looked down at her with reverence, taking in the sight of her and drawing in a long breath.

Taking her by the waist, he began to unhook the front of the corset and tossed it aside, yanking up the hem of her chemise. Simon practically ripped her drawers off but decided to leave the stockings and garters on, guiding her toward the large bed as he loosened his collar. Julienne began to unbutton his shirt, unable to help herself as she kissed each bit of his chest that she revealed. He let out a sound between a moan and a growl. He removed his shirt and she began to work on his pants.

"Not so fast, little wife." He soothed, kissing her forehead. "We have time." She turned her eyes up to meet his. They were warmer than she had ever seen them. He removed his trousers along with his shoes and socks and moved beside her, pulling her over him. Gently, he brought her down and leaned up brush her nipple with his lips, flicking his tongue over the softness of it. She felt her body tense in pleasure. One of his hands ran over her smooth bare bottom.

"You are so lovely." He murmured, moving his other hand over her throat and feeling her lips with the tips of his fingers. Sitting up with her straddling his lap, he kissed her exposed throat. She replied with a purring moan as his hand traveled between her legs and his thumb expertly began to work the most sensitive part of her. She could feel the silky hardness of him beneath her bottom as she wriggled for more contact. He hissed through his teeth as she felt her release coiling in the pit of her stomach.

To her dismay, he abandoned her with his hand and lifted her bottom easily, bringing her back down onto him, impaling her to the hilt. A cry of ecstasy left her as his hands guided her to move on him. The close contact of this position was perfectly manipulative to her body as her breasts brushed over his chest. He dropped his head to her shoulder, pressing soft kisses there. In her pleasure, she leaned back and he moved his attention to her breasts, teasing them mercilessly with his hands and mouth as they moved together.

He ground his hips upward, thrusting into her with purpose. A primal sound came from him as he lifted her again and put her on her back, holding her legs wide apart. He paused at her entrance, watching her face. Julienne writhed in agony, staring up at him.

"Please Simon…" She panted, wanting him to finish what he'd started. A small, evil grin came to his face as she felt his sex brush against her stimulated bud.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, running the tip of it along the wet crevice of her body. She arched toward him. Leaning over her, he whispered, meeting her eyes with his sparkling pale ones. "I want you to say something for me…" He whispered, half entering her and then withdrawing completely. She whimpered, nodding. "Say you're mine…" He paused to lick one of her breasts. "Say it."

"I'm yours!" She cried, begging him, trying to reach to pull him in. "Please…"

"I don't know if I should…" He teased, but an urge she'd never felt before came over her and as he began to press against her opening, she thrust her hips forward, pulling him in completely, wrapping her legs around his waist and bottom. Unable to control himself any longer, he drove into her with furious thrusts, bringing them both over the edge within seconds.

Still buried within her, he rolled onto his back, bringing her to lay over him. Finding courage within herself, she finally found the strength to speak.

"Simon?"

"Mmm?" He asked, and when she looked up at his face, his eyes were closed.

"Do you think you could sleep in my bed tonight?" She asked, hoping she didn't sound too desperate.

"If you want." He agreed, stroking her dark hair.

"I do." She nodded. "And if you…if you want to have other women…I won't stop you."

This got his attention. His eyes opened and he leaned up on his elbows.

"What?"

"I said, if you want to have affairs, I won't stop you. I know that you were forced into this." She felt a new lump rise in her throat, wishing she could take it back. Simon looked slightly enraged.

"Why would you even think that?" He asked, sitting completely up and covering her with the bed sheet.

"Well…you…don't spend evenings at home, I just assumed-"

"You assume too much, Julienne Reynolds." He scolded angrily. "When I took those vows, I intended to keep them. I was raised better than that."

"Well, why don't you like to spend time with me?" She blurted, feeling the hot tears well up in her eyes. He stopped, watching her with an expression of alarm.

"Because I like you too much!" He cried, looking away. "I can't explain it, but I'm terrified to get too close to you. I do like you, Julienne. I'm dangerously close to needing you. I have to keep my distance, don't you see?"

"But why?" She asked, wounded.

"Because I don't want to lose you." He finally said in a quieter tone. She sat back, understanding suddenly.

"Simon, I'm not Rose. There is nothing you could have done…you were a child." She knew she was treading on thin ice speaking of Rose, but it had to be said. "It wasn't your fault, and I'm not going anywhere. Ever." Simon turned to look at her and she could see his eyes were red around the edges.

"I'm sorry." He said, falling to his knees and putting his head in her lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. Unsure of what to do to comfort him, Julienne settled for running her fingers through his thick blond hair. "I'll do anything to make it up to you…I'll buy you a new carriage…horses…dogs…diamonds. Just please don't leave me, Julie."

"I'm staying right here." She assured him. "Let's start over, shall we? Why don't you attend Lord Covington's musicale with me tonight?" Looking up at her, he nodded.

"I would like that."


"This is becoming a regular occurrence, you buying me lunch." Roger laughed as he sat at a restaurant once again with Smythe, whom he had become friends with in the past weeks.

"Yes well, it is very rare that you find such a dependable lawyer. I intend to keep you around, Tiernay." Smythe replied. "So tell me about growing up in Persia."

"It wasn't much different than growing up here really. We spent summers here in France." Roger explained. "My uncle, Nadir, has a close friend who lives here. I'm good friends with his children. My mother died giving birth to me. Nadir said he thought she died of a broken heart. There was an altercation with my father's family and my father ended up on the wrong side of a gun."

"How much do you know about your father's family?" Smythe inquired curiously, sipping his wine.

"I know that they hold an Anglo-Irish Earldom and that I'm technically the heir." Roger cringed. "If they knew I was alive…they would probably have someone come after me."

Smythe chuckled mirthlessly.

"No doubt. The aristocracy is a nasty business, Roger. But if the title were offered to you…out of curiosity, would you take it?" He asked, surprising Roger.

"I hadn't considered." Roger replied. "Of course I would take it if they wanted me to have it. I don't have any family left. I might as well take the only tie I have left to my father."

"And you have intentions to marry?" Smythe went on. Roger shrugged, not wanting to revisit the thought. Esme and he had seen each other regularly, hiding their affections from her family. Roger was not sure how Destler would react when he found out that Nadir's nephew had designs on his youngest daughter, whom he had known from childhood.

"It's complicated." Roger admitted and Smythe nodded.

"So there is a girl."

"Yes, Esme." Roger thought of her shining red hair and her bright blue eyes.

"It's one of your uncle's friend's daughters isn't it?" Smythe guessed. Roger nodded. "Are you going to marry her?"

"I think I'm meant to." Roger said with a nod. "You see, in Persia, we believe all sorts of things. A fortune teller once foretold that I would love a girl with hair the exact color of the sunrise."

"And Esme has that color hair." Smythe finished for him.

"Precisely." Roger confirmed. "And I always have felt a strong connection to her."

"Marry her, then." Smythe said. "As soon as possible. If you know you're supposed to be with her…don't wait. Life is short, Tiernay." His blue eyes darkened. "Believe me, I know."