Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(9)

“No doubt he'll want an annulment.” Suddenly an impish grin crossed Julia's face. “And I'll be glad to oblige him. I'm certain to make a far better actress than a duchess.”

Chapter 2

1827

As soon as the hired detective left the room, Damon abandoned all pretense of calm. Although he never allowed himself to lose his self-control, this was too much frustration to bear. The urge to shout, hit someone, break something, was unbearable. He wasn't aware that he had been holding a glass until he heard it shatter in the library fireplace with explosive force. “Dammit, where is she?”

A few moments later, the door opened and his brother Lord William peered gingerly around the edge. “Apparently the detective had no luck in finding our mystery marchioness.”

Damon was silent, but the uncharacteristic flush on his face betrayed his emotions. While the two brothers were strikingly similar in appearance, in temperament they couldn't be more different. They both had the black hair and the striking, sharp-hewn features common to the Savage clan. But Damon's gray eyes, the shade of smoke and shadows, rarely revealed his thoughts, whereas William's gaze was usually filled with mischief. William possessed a charm and happy-go-lucky air that Damon, the elder, had never had the time nor the inclination to cultivate.

So far in his short life of twenty years, William had managed to land himself in a large number of scrapes and predicaments. He had sailed through them all with the youthful conviction that nothing bad would ever happen to him. Yet Damon seldom rebuked him, knowing that at heart William was a good lad. What did it matter if he indulged his high spirits for a while? Damon intended for his younger brother to have all the freedom and advantages that he'd never been allowed—and he would protect Will from the harsh realities that he himself had not been spared.

“What did he say?” William prompted.

“I don't want to talk now.”

William sauntered into the room, heading to the mahogany pedestal side cabinet that held rows of opulent cut-glass decanters. “You know,” he remarked casually, “it's not necessary that you find Julia Hargate in order to get rid of her. You've been searching for three years, and there's no sign of her here or abroad. It's clear that the Hargates don't want her to be found. Her relatives and friends are either unwilling or unable to divulge any information. You could obtain an annulment, I daresay.”

“I won't without Julia's knowledge.”

“But why? God knows you don't owe her anything.”

“I owe her a fortune,” Damon said grimly. “Or rather, the family does.”

William shook his head as he handed a fresh glass of brandy to his brother. “You and your damned sense of responsibility. Any other man in your position would cast off Julia Hargate like unwanted ballast. You don't even know her!”

Taking a deep swallow of brandy, Damon stood from his desk and wandered around the room. “I need to find her. She was a victim in this as much as I. The agreement was made without our consent, but at least we can dissolve it together. Besides, I don't want to take any steps without making some kind of settlement on her.”

“With her family's fortune behind her, she has no need of a settlement.”

“There's a possibility she has broken with the Hargates. I won't know until I find her.”

“I hardly think Julia is destitute, brother. More likely she's amusing herself at some French or Italian seashore and living quite well off her papa's money.”

“If that were true, I'd have located her by now.”

William watched as his brother went to stand at the window. The view was spectacular, as it was from nearly every room in the modified medieval castle. It was built on a lake, with great stone arches that rose from the water and supported the ancient building as it reached toward the sky. Many of the once impenetrable honey-colored walls had been replaced by spectacular windows filled with diamond-shaped panes of glass. Behind the castle stretched the endless green countryside of Warwickshire, lush with pastures and gardens. Long ago the castle had served as a staunch defense against invaders of England, but it had now settled into a mellow and gracious old age.

The Savage family had nearly lost possession of their ancestral home—and everything else they owned—because of the present duke's bad investments, not to mention his taste for gambling. Only Damon's marriage to Julia Hargate, and the dowry her father had provided, had saved the family from ruin. And now they owed her the title of duchess, which wouldn't be long in coming, judging by their father Frederick's failing health.

“Thank God I wasn't the firstborn child,” William said in a heartfelt tone. “It was a damned strange bargain Father struck, marrying off his son at age seven in order to secure money for his gambling debts. And it's stranger still that you've never met her since.”

“I never wanted to see Julia. It was easier to pretend she didn't exist. I couldn't acknowledge that she was—is—part of my life.” Damon's fingers clenched tight around the glass.

“Is the marriage legal?” William asked.

“No—but that's not the point. Father made a promise all those years ago, one involving me. It's my responsibility to honor it, or at least reimburse the Hargates for the money we accepted from them.”