Page 38 of Ungodly Rich

Each of these pieces felt so lavish, so heavy with significance, so…big. Julia couldn’t walk around wearinganyof these rings.

That was when her eyes drifted to a gold band in a corner. It was slender, far less ostentatious than the others, its surface covered in a vintage scrollwork pattern. It was studded with tiny flecks of stone that glittered in the light.

Following her gaze, Martin reddened. “Oh! I’m sorry, that shouldn’t even be here. It’s an ancient Mycenaean ring. Those aren’t even diamonds; they’rerock crystals,though of course, since they date from the fourth century BC, they are still priceless.” Martin reverently lifted the ring. “This was only included because I gave instructions thatall ringsin the family collection be packaged for shipment, without specifying engagement rings. I thought that was implied, but…”

He trailed off as Julia held out her palm hopefully. “May I?” she asked.

With a questioning glance at Tara, who nodded, Martin handed over the ring.

Julia slid it on thoughtfully. An unassuming gold band, studded with rock crystals instead of diamond pavé. It complemented her mother’sring, which she was still wearing on her right ring finger—unlike every other jewel in this display case, which would have clashed with Claire’s simple band. In fact, Julia thought, there was something poetic about it: wearing her mother’s ring on her right hand as a symbol of her past, and Harry’s ring—her future—on her left.

The rock crystals were subtle, more like a scattering of glitter than a big showy stone. Really, this ring was very Julia, if you ignored that it was a two-thousand-year-old priceless relic.

“We could add a central stone,” Tara suggested. “It would be easy, really, to work this into a setting and feature a diamond from the family mines. Right, Martin?”

He nodded assiduously, but Julia let out a little cry of protest. “You couldn’t possibly alter this ring. It belongs in a museum!”

“But it’s not in a museum,” Tara said easily. “It’sours,and we can rework it as we please. That’s the whole point of owning things, isn’t it? No one can tell you what to do with them.”

Julia wasn’t sure that was at all the point of owning things but knew better than to say so aloud.

Tara looked to the curator for confirmation. “What do you think, Martin, six carats? Eight? A princess cut would look lovely on Julia—”

“I don’t want a large diamond,” Julia said again, more firmly this time. “I could hardly wear something that grand on my tours in New Zealand.”

The room fell silent. Tara shot Martin a look. He gestured that Julia should give him the ring, so she twisted it off and handed it to him.

“I’m so glad you found a ring that speaks to you,” Tara said gently. “Martin, would you be so good as to clean it for us?”

Martin nodded and retreated from the room, pushing the cart of priceless family heirlooms before him.

“Shall we have some tea?” Tara moved over to the sitting area. Reluctantly, Julia perched on one of the armchairs opposite. She started to cross her legs at the thigh, then realized that Tara had tucked one ankle behind the other. Perhaps that was considered more appropriate when wearing a dress? Julia adjusted her position to match her future mother-in-law’s.

See?she wanted to say.I may not have been born to this, but I’m a quick study.

Tara reached for a teapot—when had a staff member brought that in? It felt almost like it had been conjured from midair—and filled two porcelain mugs. “Milk? Sugar?” she offered politely.

“No, thanks.”

Tara raised an eyebrow but handed Julia her mug, an airy thing with a curled handle. “Julia, I hope you know how happy I am for you and my son.”

“Your support means so much to both of us.” Belatedly, Julia added, “And thank you so much for the ring.”

“I’m pleased that you like it. Family heirlooms are always special. They carry the weight of history, of legacy.” Tara busied herself with the tea set, spooning sugar into her own mug, then pouring cream from a small pitcher. When she finally looked back at Julia, her lips were pressed into a line. “You must know, of course, that what you said about wearing this ring while guiding tours in New Zealand—that cannot happen.”

Fair enough. The ring did belong in a museum, after all. “I’ll keep it in a safe during working hours,” Julia agreed.

Tara shook her head. Her auburn hair was twisted into a bun, not a single hair loose or out of place. Julia sensed that this was a woman who had never reached up to redo a ponytail in her life.

“I’m afraid you misunderstand me, Julia,” Tara clarified. “Your time in New Zealand has drawn to a close. Don’t you see that Harry should return to New York now? And of course, as his fiancée, you will want to come with him.”

Sothatwas what this was about. The nerve of Tara, thinking she could ambush Julia with ring shopping and order her to move halfway around the world.

“I’m afraid I don’t agree,” Julia said evenly. “I’m thrilled that we’re starting a life together, but that doesn’t mean we need to move. We’re both happy in New Zealand.”

Tara let out a breath. “I’m not suggesting that Harry move because he’s engaged. He should move because he’s reconciled with his familyagain. Surely you know that for the past few years, he has been…distant?” Tara added. Julia heard a slight note of challenge in the question, as if Tara doubted just how close Julia and Harry were.

“He told me that you were estranged, yes,” Julia replied evenly. “I’m so glad that I begged him to come to this reunion.”