“I cannot believe that woman has the gall to parade about town wearing the estate jewels. She has no right. Even if she had not remarried, your mother gave up all rights to them the day she walked out on your father,” said Lady Margaret.
“Yes, well after today, that will no longer be an issue. She has sent word this morning that she will be arriving just before noon, and the jewels will be handed over. After that I don’t expect to see her again,” replied Julian.
Lady Margaret shifted uncomfortably in her chair. He saw that her hands were clenched into fists. “Would you like me to withdraw to my room for the duration of her visit? She still does not acknowledge me in public.”
Julian shook his head. “No. As far as I am concerned, until I take a wife, you are the lady of the Newhall estate. The countess has no rights in this house. You should not have to hide from her.”
Lady Margaret picked up her diary and smiled. She may not have been his mother, but after what she had done to heal his father’s broken heart, Julian had become fiercely protective of her.
From her diary she pulled out a folded-up piece of paper and showed it to him. “I have finalized the list of suitable young ladies for your estate party. I thought you might like to go over it. The sooner I am able to extend invitations, the more likely the chance that we shall have a full house.”
Julian held out his hand and took the piece of paper. He ran his gaze down the list of names. He barely knew any of the girls Lady Margaret had selected, so he would have to trust her judgement.
“If they meet with your approval, I am sure they will do fine,” he said.
A footman entered the drawing room and bowed low. “Her Highness, the Countess of Lienz.”
Margaret and Julian looked at one another as Julian handed back the invitation list.
His mother swept into the room with all the occasion that arriving at a grand ball would demand. She took one look at Lady Margaret and averted her gaze. She held out a gold case toward Julian, and let go of it. He made a hurried catch before it hit the floor.
“I have brought your cheap trinkets. My darling count says we cannot have you making noises about town that I have stolen from you. I forgot just how ugly some of the pieces were,” she said.
Julian ignored her comments and placed the case on the nearby table. A gasp of dismay came from his mother as he opened the case and examined the pieces one by one.
“You don’t trust your own mother? That is the height of bad manners, Newhall,” she said.
He looked up from the box and fixed her with a steely glare. “Madam, the Crusader Ruby is missing. Did you think I wouldn’t look for it?”
Lady Margaret rose from her seat. “I shall leave the two of you to sort out this matter.”
The countess looked her slowly up and down. Her gaze settled on the list in Lady Margaret’s hand. She quickly snatched it away, then stood reading it.
“So, what is this?” She laughed.
“It is none of your business,” replied Julian.
The countess waved the piece of paper in his face and laughed once more. “I know what this is: it’s a list of names of young, eligible ladies. Don’t tell me you are finally going to select a wife, Newhall?”
“The necklace,” replied Julian.
The countess looked from Julian, to the list, and back again. A wicked smile appeared on her lips. “I should have a say in my successor. How is this for a bargain? The Crusader Ruby, for the list.”
“What?” he replied.
“I give you the necklace, you allow me to make the final list and send out the invitations. I will make sure that the next countess is from the right family. I have already spotted several girls on the guestlist from new money, so clearly Lady Margaret has no idea what she is doing. You cannot possibly allow your father’s mistress to handle matters regarding your future marriage. As your mother, it should fall to me.”
Julian looked at Lady Margaret. He gritted his teeth when he saw tears shining in her eyes. His mother had him at a disadvantage, and they all knew it. If he didn’t agree to her terms, he may never see the most priceless piece in the Newhall collection ever again.
“Agreed. You get to make the final list and send out the invitations. But Lady Margaret is to be given a copy of the final names. As she is helping me to host the house party, she should know who will be coming,” he replied.
The countess quickly folded the list and slipped it into her reticule.
For several minutes after the countess had left, Julian and Lady Margaret stood in silence in the drawing room. His mind was a whirl of half-thoughts and worries. What was his mother’s game? Negotiating with the various European powers after the fall of Emperor Napoleon had been easier than dealing with her.
Locked firmly in his memories was the knowledge that the countess was a woman who always had a secret agenda. Nothing was ever straightforward with her. The one thing he could be certain of was that his mother could not be trusted.
Julian’s mind had already made up a long list of possible outcomes from allowing his mother to help select the guests for his house party. Of the myriad of outcomes, very few were favorable for him.
He would need to tread carefully when it came to the party. Knowing his mother, she would do everything in her power to arrange a marriage for him that was entirely unsuitable.
A wife who would treat him in exactly the same fashion as she had his father—that would be her ultimate revenge for him having the temerity to be born. Nothing would make her happier than to see her only son miserable.
Even now, he could imagine her sitting in her fine carriage on her way back to her fine new husband, plotting how best she could hurt her son.
“Just remember, no matter whom she chooses to invite, you don’t have to marry any of them,” said Lady Margaret eventually.
“Yes. But what damage will she manage to do in the meantime? Will the mothers of the ton be told that I am some kind of monster, entirely unfit for marriage?”
Only after he returned to London following the end of the week-long party, would he know whether the price of recovering the Crusader Ruby had been set beyond his means.