Callie would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so heated. “He does not hate you.”
Juliana raised her head, her disbelief evident. “No? Did you see the way he looked at me? Did you hear him wish that I were gone?”
Callie couldn’t help the little smile that came at the young woman’s outrage—outrage that only intensified when she registered her friend’s amusement. “You find this amusing?” she asked, accusation in her tone.
“Not at all—well—a bit,” Callie admitted, hurrying on when she saw Juliana redden. “You see—you’ve never had an elder brother.”
“No—and it appears that I have one who cares very little for the role!”
“Nonsense. He adores you. They both do.”
“Ha! There you are wrong! I am nothing but a disappointment to them!” She returned to the wardrobe and began yanking shoes from deep inside, her voice muffled as she spoke, “I am…a commoner…an Italian…a Catholic.” She threw shoes behind her as she spoke.
“I assure you, Ralston does not care about any of those things.”
“Ha!” Juliana turned around to face Callie, breathing heavily. “Perhaps not! But I assure you he most definitely cares that I am the daughter of his mother…a woman he despises!”
Callie shook her head. “I cannot believe that he would blame you for your mother’s…”
“That is easy for you to say, Callie. You did not have our mother!” Callie remained silent as Juliana began to thrust the shoes into the trunk. “Our mother was a terrible woman. Cold and utterly fascinated with herself. I remember very little of her except that she carried uno specchio—a mirror—with her always…so she could always look upon herself.” She slowed her words, losing herself to the memory. “She hated to be touched. Was always afraid of wrinkled or stained skirts.”
Juliana’s voice became quiet as she added, “I was not allowed to touch her. ‘Children have dirty hands’ she would say, ‘when you are older, you will understand.’” She shook her head. “But I do not understand. What kind of woman would not want her daughter to touch her? Not want her sons? Why would she leave us all?”
She looked down at the trunk, overflowing in a jumble of silks and satins, shoes and undergarments. “I dreamed of brothers—whom I could touch. Who would allow me to be messy. Who would play with me. And protect me. Una famiglia.” A small smile crossed her face. “And it turns out that I have them. She gave them to me.”
“That is something very good that she has done for you.” Callie moved to kneel next to Juliana, putting one arm around the younger girl.
“And now I have ruined it.”
Callie shook her head. “Arguments happen. I promise you that he does not want you to leave.”
Juliana looked up at Callie, her blue eyes so like Ralston’s. “I could love them.”
Callie smiled. “Good. As it should be.”
“But what if there is no place for me here? I am nothing like them. And, yet, what if I do not belong anywhere else?”
Callie held the younger girl in her arms as Juliana considered the questions—the answers to which would decide her future.
And in the long moments they sat in silence, Callie realized that only Ralston could make Juliana see that she had a rightful place here.
She had to find him.
Fifteen
Juliana did not deserve your censure.”
Ralston turned away from the large window overlooking the back gardens of Ralston House and met his twin’s blue gaze. “She called her dance master an idiot.”
“To be fair, she wasn’t entirely off the mark.” Nick crossed the study, offering Ralston a tumbler of scotch, which he gladly accepted. The two stood silently at the window, watching the sunlight play through the leaves, casting mottled shadows across the lush green garden.
After a long moment, Ralston looked at Nick. “Are you defending her?”
“Not at all. But your response was overmuch. She is more delicate than she seems.”
Ralston took a long drink of scotch. “Considering the murderous look she gave me, I’m not so certain that there is anything delicate about her at all.”
“Would you care to tell me what has set you off?”
“No,” Ralston said.
Nick left the window, moving to a large chair by the fireplace. Once seated, he took a long drink, waiting. The look Ralston cast over his shoulder at his brother would have sent a lesser man running from the room. Instead, Nick leaned back in his chair, and said, “It seems that after seeing Lady Calpurnia and me waltzing, you promptly took leave of your senses.”