That was the first sign of uncertainty.
Julian saw.
“Mother.”
“In my desk.”
“All of them?”
“The ones that arrived after I came.”
“How many?”
“Eight.”
Eliza had received three.
Eleven total.
Exactly.
Julian’s anger became quiet.
“Bring them.”
Augusta stared.
“This is my morning room.”
“And this is my house.”
The words came before he could soften them.
His mother went pale.
Julian regretted the form.
Not the boundary.
He corrected.
“You taught me title carries responsibility.”
“Then allow me to use mine for something other than seating precedence.”
Augusta looked toward him for a long moment.
Then crossed the room.
Unlocked a writing desk.
Removed a bundle tied with gray ribbon.
Eight letters.
His seal.
Unbroken.
Julian took them.
He looked at his mother.
“You kept them sealed.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Augusta’s jaw tightened.
“Because I did not need to read them to understand what they represented.”
There.
Not curiosity.
Control.
Julian nodded slowly.
“At least that is honest.”
He tucked the letters beneath his arm.
Then:
“And hers?”
Augusta looked confused.
“Her letters to you.”
“Were there others?”
Beatrice whispered:
“Yes.”
All three turned.
Beatrice stepped toward the writing desk.
“I saw one.”
“When?”
“Four days ago.”
“Mother took it from the outgoing tray.”
Julian looked at Augusta.
“How many?”
Silence.
“Mother.”
“Three.”
“Where?”
Another drawer.
Three letters in Eliza’s handwriting.
One seal broken.
Julian stopped.
“You opened this.”
Augusta’s composure cracked.
“Only one.”
“Why?”
“To know whether she was encouraging you.”
Beatrice whispered:
“Oh, Mother.”
Julian looked at the broken wax.
He did not open the letter.
Not here.
It belonged to Eliza.
Augusta said:
“She was.”
Julian’s eyes lifted.
“You read a private letter and concluded she encouraged me?”
“She told you she missed you.”
He laughed.
“That is your evidence?”
“She said remaining in this house had become painful.”
“Reasonably.”
“She asked whether you still meant what you said in the library.”
Julian went still.
Beatrice looked between them.
Augusta continued.
“I knew then.”
Julian’s voice lowered.
“You knew what?”
“That you had made some declaration.”
“I had not proposed.”
“No.”
“You were waiting.”