Page 18 of Love with a Notorious Rake

She laughed at his exaggerated bow and faux pompous tone. At least she realized that he wasn’t being serious.

When he released her hand, she gave him an extravagant curtsey. “Lord Wollstonecraft.”

He chuckled. Yes, he liked her already.

“Aidan!” Abigail stood in the doorway, a warm smile on her lovely face.

He strode toward her. “Good to see you, Aunt Abigail.”

“Oh, I’m your aunt. What a development. Please, call me Abbie.” She took his hand and squeezed it affectionately. “We did not receive word of your visit.”

“Apparently the mail is not as efficient as believed.”

“I’ll tell Garrett you’re here,” Jonas said. “He’s in the barn. Then I’ll fetch Tens.”

“Thank you.” Aidan assumed ‘Tens’ was his father, and his mouth quirked with amusement at the nickname.

“Your grandfather is in his private study. Go and see him, and I will order tea. Are you hungry?” Abbie asked.

Food. He would have to make an effort. “I wouldn’t say no to beefsteak sandwiches.”

“Consider it done. I’ll send word when it’s ready. Come, Megan.”

Impulsively, Megan kissed his cheek. “I am happy you’re here.”

He was left alone in the hallway, as Laddie had followed the women. Damn it, all this flustering and emotion was spiking his anxieties. Dr. Bevan had stressed there may be residual disquiet from his decline into debauchery.

Taking a cleansing and calming breath, he headed to his grandfather’s study. The door was ajar, so he stepped inside. There he sat, reading over documents. He looked up, and the astonishment was clear on his face. Overall his grandfather hadn’t changed much—a few more lines etched into his handsome face, fewer threads of black running through his hair, for it had been close to ten months since they’d seen each other. “Grandfather.”

He stood, and immediately strode toward Aidan, taking him into a warm embrace. “Welcome home, Grandson. Welcome home.” His grandfather’s voice shook, which caused Aidan’s throat to grow tighter.

Garrett burst into the room. “Aidan!” His uncle grabbed his arm and pulled him into a crushing bear hug. “You’re home at last.”

Yes. Home. The word conjured up warm memories and a feeling of safety and comfort—things that had been lacking in his life of late.

Damn it all, everyone seemed genuinely happy to see him. But would his father be as pleased? Could he blame him if he weren’t?

* * * *

It wasn’t often that Julian could find time alone with Alberta, but today he wished to take things beyond ardent kisses. Ever since she and her brother-in-law, Jonas, had taken possession of her late uncle’s small manor house last September, his world had been turned upside down.

Julian had not seen Alberta during most of the spring due to parliament being in session, but he’d never stopped thinking of her. An omen, to be sure, proving that his feelings had already moved beyond friendly affection. While in London, he’d briefly considered taking a trip to the Crimson Club to banish his sexual frustrations, but found he hadn’t wanted a casual encounter. Damn it, he wanted Alberta.

Frankly, he was tired of sipping tepid tea in her parlor. He gazed at her from over the rim of his cup. Fiona, the twins’ mother and his beloved wife, had died more than twenty-five years past. No other woman had managed to capture his interest. Except Alberta. With her glorious crown of wheat-colored hair, pretty face, and lush figure, she certainly appealed to him physically, but it was more than that.

The thirty-nine-year-old widow spoke to his heart. She was a calming presence, generous and kind, vowing to her late husband that she would look after his younger brother, Jonas, and ensure that he was never sent to an asylum because of his intellectual and mental shortcomings.

Julian’s caution seemed ridiculous in light of his intense feelings. He should be taking what sparked between them further. But, damn it all, he was frightened into inaction because he could not bear more heartache and loss. Fiona’s death had scarred him. And what was etched on his heart and soul? The curse. Placing another woman he cared for deeply in possible danger made him hesitate.

With his youngest son, younger brother, and, it appeared, his father accepting love, it was well past time he showed the same conviction and courage. Enough vacillating. Perhaps there was still hope that the curse could be broken.

Julian placed his cup on the tray. “Alberta.”

She looked up at him. “Hm?”

“Let’s go to bed.”

Alberta arched an eyebrow at him, her expression confused. “Pardon?”