Finale (Caraval #3)(11)

Scarlett wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him, but she didn’t move from the doorway. “When did you return?” she asked coolly.

“A week ago.”

And you’re only visiting now? Scarlett wanted to ask. But she reminded herself that she was the one who’d first put a wedge between them when she’d told him she wanted to meet her former fiancé.

Julian had said he understood, had said he wanted her to do whatever she needed. But then he’d been sent away on another errand from Legend.

I won’t be able to write, but it will only take one week, he’d promised.

One week had turned into two, then three, then four, then five weeks without so much as a note from him to say he was still alive. She wasn’t sure if it was because he’d given up on her or if he’d forgotten about her because he was so busy working for Legend.

Julian pulled at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, bringing Scarlett’s attention back to the bandage wrapped around his arm.

“Were you wounded?” Was that why he hadn’t come by? “What happened to your arm?”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled.

But Scarlett would have sworn he blushed. She didn’t even know Julian was capable of blushing. He had no shame. He moved through the world with utter confidence. But his cheeks were definitely flushed, and his eyes refused to meet hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t come by sooner.”

“It’s all right,” Scarlett said. “I’m sure you’re very busy with whatever Legend has you doing.” Her gaze flickered once more to the mysterious bandage around his arm and then up to his eyes, which still declined to meet hers. “It’s nice of you to stop by. It’s good to see you.” She itched to say so much more, but she could hear the carriage horses neighing outside. Scarlett needed to leave before she mucked things up with Nicolas. “I’d love to chat, but unfortunately I was about to step out.”

Julian shoved away from the display cabinet. “If you’re going to enjoy the festival, I’ll join you.” It was the polite statement of a friend. But Scarlett’s feelings for Julian had always been too strong for friendship, even when she’d first met him and hadn’t liked him at all. Scarlett and Julian could never just be friends. She needed more from him, or she needed him to let her go.

“I’m not going to the festival,” Scarlett said. “I’m finally going to meet Nicolas.”

Julian’s expression fell. It only lasted a moment. If Scarlett had torn her eyes from him for a second, she would have missed it. Almost as soon as he heard what she said, Julian walked past her to the boardinghouse front door. She expected him to leave, to let her go and close the door on them completely.

Instead he opened it with an oddly pleasant smile. “That’s perfect,” he said, cheerful, as if she’d just told him they were having coconut cake for dinner. “I can be your chaperone.”

“I don’t need a chaperone.”

“Do you already have one?”

Scarlett glared. “You and I never had one.”

“Exactly.” With a smug grin, he swaggered past her to the idling carriage and opened that door as well. But rather than wait for her to enter, Julian slipped into the coach.

Scarlett’s emotions were searing as she entered the coach and took the seat across from him. Julian might have started dressing like a gentleman, but he was still behaving like a scoundrel. She’d have understood his frustrating behavior if he’d made any effort to contact her over the past five weeks, or if he’d tried to fight for her after she’d told him that she wanted to give Nicolas another chance as well, but it seemed all Julian wanted to do was fight against her.

“You’re trying to sabotage this,” she accused.

“I’d say I’d never do that, but that would be a lie.” Julian lounged back in his seat, spreading out the way young men always seemed to. Since the streets of Valenda weren’t made for coaches, this box was particularly narrow, with barely enough room for the two of them. But Julian stretched his arms across the brocade cushions, and kicked out his legs to take up more than half the space.

Scarlett grabbed one of his knees, knocked it into the other, and pointed toward the door as the carriage began to rumble down the road. “Get out, Julian.”

“No.” His arms dropped from the cushion and he leaned forward. “I’m not leaving, Crimson. We’ve spent enough time apart.” He placed his hand on top of hers and pressed it firmly to his knee.

Scarlett tried to pull away, but it was in the halfhearted way someone did something when they were actually hoping someone would stop them.

And Julian did. He slipped his brown fingers between hers and held on tighter than he ever had, as if making up for all the weeks he hadn’t been able to touch her. “While I was gone, I tried to remem ber every word you ever said to me. I’ve thought about you every hour of every day I was away.”

Scarlett fought the urge to smile. It was everything she had wanted to hear. But Julian had always excelled at knowing what to say. It was following through where he fell apart. “Then why didn’t you write?”

“You told me you wanted space to meet your count.”

“I didn’t want that much space. For five weeks I heard nothing from you. I thought that you’d forgotten about me or moved on.” She tried not to sound too accusing or too desperate. She felt as if she’d failed at both, and yet Julian’s earnest expression didn’t waver. His eyes were the prettiest shade of brown, and warmer than the light slipping through the carriage windows.