Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(22)

However, that rare harmony in their acting would never, could never, extend beyond the stage. Not once had the thought seriously crossed Julia's mind. She turned to Logan as everyone else did, for direction, guidance, praise, and criticism…but not for anything that wasn't directly related to her career. There was nothing comfortable about Logan, nothing that invited trust or even the barest hint of safety and warmth. It was clear that Logan would never love a woman as he loved his theater, or sacrifice for a living person what he would for his twin gods of art and ambition.

Perhaps that was why he and Julia had chemistry on the stage, because each of them sensed the other's inability to surrender to another person. There was safety in that, knowing there was no risk of love, pain, or disillusionment between them…that whereas their emotions on stage seemed to run deep, nothing would remain after the curtain fell.

Since attaining adulthood, Julia had tried to find contentment in the independence she prized so highly. If only she could stop herself from wanting more. She longed for someone to understand and cherish her, a man to whom she could give all of herself with no fear or doubt. It was her most private dream, one she hated to acknowledge even to herself.

At times she felt as if she were divided into two selves, one part of her wanting isolation from the rest of the world, and the other aching to be possessed and loved as she had never been in her life. Her father, with his dominating nature, had precious little love to offer anyone. Her mother had always been too timid, too lost in the shadow of her husband to give Julia the attention a child required. And the constant inflow and outflow of servants from the Hargate household had prevented Julia from forming a close attachment to any of them. Love was something to be feared more than desired.

Realizing that she had been silent for an unaccountably long time, Julia glanced warily at Lord Savage, worrying that her thoughts might have betrayed themselves.

“We're almost there,” was all he said, in a murmur that somehow relaxed her.

The carriage traveled along Upper Brook Street and turned to ascend the long drive leading to a massive white and cream-colored house. The building was cool, beautiful and perfectly symmetrical, with towering Grecian columns and a wide portico adorning the front. Two graceful white wings fitted with rows of gleaming Palladian windows stretched out from the central structure. It was entirely different from the dark, gothic estate Julia had grown up in.

Savage preceded her from the carriage and reached in to assist her. Their gloved fingers caught firmly until she reached the ground, and he offered her his arm. Walking with him up the wide marble steps and into the house, Julia was intensely aware of the hard muscle in his forearm, and the way he checked his long stride to match her shorter ones.

A narrow-faced butler welcomed them inside, taking Julia's hooded pelisse and Lord Savage's hat and gloves. Julia was amazed by what she saw of the entrance hall and the rooms beyond, the forty-foot-high ceilings and antique columns, the exquisite floors tiled in green, blue, and amber. “How beautiful,” she exclaimed.

“Yes.” But Savage was staring at her instead of their surroundings.

“Show me around,” she urged, eager to see more.

Obligingly Savage escorted her through several rooms, pausing to describe the history of certain painted panels or furnishings. It was clear that the Savage family had a great appreciation of art. Many of the ceilings were studded with medallions of delicately painted angels, clouds, and mythological figures, while nearly every corner featured a piece of rare sculpture. There were walls decorated in gold and white to display portraits by Van Dyck and Rembrandt, and landscapes by Gainsborough, Marlow, and Lambert.

“I could stare at these for hours,” Julia said, regarding a wall of paintings with delight.

“I don't often have the time to enjoy them.”

“What keeps you so busy, my lord? Supervising all your investments and business interests, I suppose.”

“There is a lot to be managed,” he admitted, staring thoughtfully at the Van Dyck before them.

All of a sudden Julia was mortified by the indiscreet growling of her stomach. She placed her hand over her midriff. “How unladylike. I'm afraid I haven't eaten since this morning.”

The corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. “Shall we go in to dinner?”

“Yes, I'm famished.” Taking his arm once more, Julia accompanied him through more gleaming, art-filled rooms. Though it would have been best to find a neutral topic, she couldn't resist prying. “Surely you could hire estate agents and managers to take care of your business, my lord.”

“I prefer to handle most of it myself.”

“You don't trust other people very easily,” she observed.

“No,” he said quietly. “Particularly when my family's finances are at stake.”

Julia glanced at the uncompromising line of his profile, her brows lifting in mild surprise. Why would he admit such a thing to her? Without exception, all members of the aristocracy pretended that their money sprang from limitless sources, to be squandered without a trace of worry.

Savage continued without a change in inflection. “My father insisted on managing the family's affairs by himself until he fell ill several years ago. When I assumed control of everything, I discovered that the Savages were heavily in debt, and all our financial dealings were in shambles. The duke had a taste for gambling. If he ever made a sound investment, it was purely by accident.”