After Midnight by Teresa Medeiros

Author:Teresa Medeiros
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
ISBN: 9780061795855
Publisher: HarperCollins

“Julian! Julian! Where are you going?”

That winsome cry echoed off the stone walls of the ancient bailey that had once hosted tournaments for kings, knights, and their fair ladies.

Ignoring it, Julian blinked the rain from his lashes and continued to stalk toward the stables. He didn’t know where he was going. Even with the sky a sullen mass of clouds and rain pouring from the heavens, it wasn’t as if there was anywhere he could flee to escape what he had become. Despite the careless boast he had hurled at his brother, he doubted that even hell would welcome the likes of him.

“Julian! Why won’t you answer me? I won’t be ignored, you know, so you needn’t try.”

He bit back a groan. There was no question about it. Portia Cabot was even more persistent than his brother. And infinitely more alluring.

He whirled around so quickly that she nearly stumbled into him. He wanted to reach out a hand to steady her, but was afraid of the consequences, so he simply stood gazing down his nose at her as she awkwardly regained her footing on the slick grass.

She was gripping a parasol in her gloved hand—a ridiculous confection of silk and lace that was in danger of crumpling beneath the weight of the rain. With her dark blue eyes aglow and her damp curls threatening to tumble out of their hairpins, she looked like a bedraggled sprite.

“Shouldn’t you be at your sister’s bedside?” he demanded.

She wrinkled her pert nose at him, plainly taken aback by his brusqueness. “I’m sure she’ll be just fine now that she has Caro to look after her. I was concerned about you. You looked so pale back there in Vivienne’s room that I was afraid you might be taking ill yourself.”

He snorted. “I’m afraid there’s no cure for what ails me. At least none a doctor can provide.”

“Is that why you and your brother quarreled?”

“How do you know that?” He narrowed his eyes, lowering his gaze to study the faint circle of dust that marred the snowy muslin of her skirt. “Were you kneeling at the library keyhole, by any chance?”

A guilty flush tinted her delicate cheekbones as she brushed at her skirt. “I was getting ready to knock when I accidentally dropped my handkerchief. It was only by pure happenstance that I heard your raised voices.”

Julian quickly deduced that was all she had heard. If she had heard him denounce her as a “lovesick puppy,” he doubted she would still be dogging his heels.

“My brother was simply delivering his standard lecture. He thinks I drink too much,” Julian confessed, surprised to find himself inching so close to the truth. He’d grown very accomplished at lying in the past few years, especially to himself.

“Do you?” she asked, looking genuinely curious.

He raked a hand through his hair, finding it suddenly difficult to meet her eyes. “On occasion, I suppose.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Why does any man drink? To dull the thirst for something else he wants desperately, but can never have.

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