As he tossed back his scotch, Edward considered stripping down to his trousers and racing barefoot over hill and dale, taking a plunge into an icy river, finding a wolf or wild hog to wrestle. He took small comfort in the fact that she was not immune to his charms, that she did desire him, otherwise she wouldn’t be so wary regarding where his kiss might lead.
Straight to her bed if he had his way with it.
The odd thing was, he understood her reluctance, had no wish to be a substitute for his brother. He wanted her feelings to be for him, separate from what she’d felt for Albert. He didn’t expect them to ever be as strong or as large in scope, but he did want to be the one in possession of them.
He could honestly admit that he had never felt for any woman what he felt for her. It bloody well terrified him, and yet walking away was not even a consideration. Her company from a distance was better than not having her company at all.
Patience had never been his strong suit, but for her, he would bide his time. For her, he would have unique musical boxes crafted. For her, he would drink less. For her, he would give whatever was within him to give.
For her, he would toss and turn a good bit of the night, and wake up in a foul mood that required a cup of coffee stronger than his usual. He’d taken one sip that nearly blistered the roof of his mouth when she strolled into the breakfast dining room, wearing a black dress that was comprised of too much material and far too many buttons. She was done up tight, but still a sense of welcome relief washed through him. He shot to his feet. “Good morning. Is something amiss?”
She smiled sweetly. “I decided it was silly of me to eat alone when I could enjoy breakfast in your company. If you don’t mind if I join you, that is. I suppose I should have asked first. Perhaps you prefer to begin your day in solitude.”
The way she was prattling on, he wondered if she were nervous, fearful that he might not welcome her presence. She could join him in his bath if she wanted. “I’ve never much cared for solitude. By all means, please join me.”
She wandered over to the sideboard, made her selections, and took her place at the foot of the table. Smart girl. If she sat within reach, he would touch her. Wouldn’t be able to help himself. Just gliding a finger over her hand, her cheek would suffice to lessen his need to possess her.
Fool, nothing was going to lessen that.
Resisting the urge to pick up his plate and move nearer to her, he dropped into his chair, sipped his coffee, aware that it was now too strong, as his mood had improved considerably.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“Not really. You?”
“Horribly.”
She bestowed upon him a gamine smile. “Why does that please me, I wonder?”
“Because you’re a little witch, and you know you’re the cause for my restless night.”
“I would not presume—”
His laughter quieted her. “You deny me a kiss and you don’t think you’re responsible?”
She glanced around as though hoping the servants had all suddenly gone deaf. He wished he could make her completely comfortable discussing their passionate natures. Then the full weight of her blue gaze fell on him. “Would a kiss have made it better?”
He released a deep sigh. “No. I suspect it would have made it all the worse, but a small price to pay for the flavor of your lips upon my tongue.”
Even at this distance, he could see the deep crimson blush creeping up her face. He rather imagined that it began at her toes. He’d like to kiss those toes, the arch of her foot, her ankles, and journey all the way up to the haven between her thighs.
She looked past him to the windows. “Appears it’s going to be a lovely day outside.”
Her change of topic was no doubt intended to take his thoughts off their wayward path—although that wasn’t likely to happen. Still, no harm in allowing her to believe he was easily distracted. “I was going to ride into the village today. I wanted to check on the health of Mrs. Lark and her family. Perhaps you’d care to join me. I seem to recall promising to take you riding.”
Her face blossomed, wreathed with joy. “I would dearly love to go riding. I’ve missed it so.”
“We’ll stop for some strawberry tarts.”
Her smile grew. “Even better.”
“We’ll leave following breakfast, shall we?”
“I’ll need to change.”
“Thomas,” he said, directing his attention to one of the footmen. “Send word out to the stables to have our horses readied.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
After Thomas walked out, although two other footmen remained, she leaned across the table and whispered, “And you’ll behave.”
“I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”
But even a perfect gentleman could find a way to steal a kiss if he put his mind to it.
It felt so marvelous to be on horseback again. Her chestnut mare seemed equally pleased. While a groom had been riding and exercising her, Julia liked to think that the old girl had missed her and was glad to have her mistress back in the saddle.
It had turned out to be a rare warm day that required neither coat nor cloak. She’d never before had occasion to ride beside Edward. He kept them at a sedate pace, while she yearned to race over the fields. On the return home, she would take matters into her own hands, but she didn’t wish to arrive at the widow’s appearing bedraggled with her hair askew.
The village came into view. They plodded down the main narrow thoroughfare that cut through the center of the town, shops and buildings lined up on either side. At the far end, they approached a small weathered cottage that had most certainly seen better days. The door was so small that Edward would have had to duck to cross the threshold. She imagined that he had fairly filled whatever space there was inside, couldn’t envision the dwelling as having more than one room.
Edward brought his horse to a halt and dismounted in a graceful movement that made her mouth go dry. Why did the most common of actions, when performed by him, have to affect her as though he were the most extraordinary man she’d ever seen?
He came around and held his arms up to her. The moment she had both anticipated and dreaded. His powerful hands spanning the breadth of her waist, closing around it, his eyes latched onto hers, her hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders. He lifted her up slightly, brought her down, leaving her with the impression that he could have held her aloft all day, without his muscles once quivering with fatigue. Her feet came to rest on the dirt, her knees feeling somewhat weak—no doubt because she’d gone so long without riding. Not because he looked at her as though he might sweep her into the cottage and have his way with her.
“Your lordship!” The youthful voice echoed around them.
Edward broke out into a wide grin, released her and spun around just as an urchin leapt on him, the boy’s legs circling his waist, his scrawny arms wrapping around the earl’s neck as Edward closed his arms around the lad. Not that Julia thought that action was needed. The boy clung so tenaciously to him that she didn’t think Edward would be able to extricate himself from the hold, even if he wanted to.
A slender woman with a babe in her arms and a little girl clutching her skirt scrambled out of the house. “Johnny Lark! Get off his lordship this instant. You can’t be crawling all over your betters.”
“It’s quite all right, Mrs. Lark,” Edward said. “I’m just glad to see he appears to be doing well.”
“Too well if you ask me. He is a handful. I was sorry to hear you took ill, m’lord.”
“I’m fine, completely recovered, no lingering ill affects.”
“Ye lost weight. I can tell that. Come inside for a cup of stew.”
Julia knew it was ridiculous to experience a pang of jealousy because this woman with her worn clothes, her untidy hair, her rough raw hands, knew Edward well enough to note that he had indeed lost weight.
“I appreciate the offer, but I promised the countess some pastry.” He turned to her. “Lady Greyling, allow me to introduce Mrs. Lark.”
She smiled kindly. “It’s a pleasure.”
Mrs. Lark curtsied three times, as though she wasn’t quite certain when she’d paid enough homage. “M’lady. Sorry I’m such a sight. Wasn’t expecting company today. But I’ve got enough stew for the both of you.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I rather have my heart set on the pastries. I possess a bit of a sweet tooth.”
The woman smiled winsomely, as though she and Julia shared a little secret, then she scowled, reached out and swatted her son’s backside. “Johnny, get off his lordship.”
Like a little monkey, the lad scrambled down. Mrs. Lark’s face fell. “Oh, look what you did. You got dust all over his clothes. I’ll be happy to give ’em a good washing, Lord Greyling.”
“Actually, Mrs. Lark, that’s part of the reason I’ve come today. I deduced by the lines strung up at the back of your house that you’re a washerwoman.”
“Yes, m’lord. I’d be pleased and honored to do your laundry free of charge for an entire month to thank ye for taking care of us.”
“Not necessary. However, we are in need of a washerwoman at Evermore. I wondered if you might be interested in the position.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “You mean, working for you?”
“For the estate, yes. The countess recently gave birth to a daughter, and as I understand it, the present laundress’s workload has increased somewhat. You would assist her, live within the residence, have three rooms available for you and your children. They would be tutored. Meals and clothing would be provided to your family. I’m also in need of a boot boy if Johnny is interested. You and he would both receive a salary.”
She staggered back. “Caw! Blimey!”
Julia wasn’t surprised by her reaction. Edward was offering them an incredible opportunity to better themselves. She realized while he may have wanted to assure himself that they were well on the road to recovery, his main purpose in coming here was to take further care of this widow and her children.
“I’d be honored, m’lord.”
“Very good. I’ll send a footman along Thursday next to assist you and the children in packing up and moving to Evermore, if that gives you enough time to prepare.”
“Oh, it does indeed.” Tears welled in the woman’s eyes. “I didn’t know how we’d make it with my man gone. Can hardly afford the cottage and food.”
“Well, now you no longer have to worry about it. I’d say a celebration is in order. What say Johnny accompany us to the tea shop for some meat pies?”
“I like pastries,” Johnny announced.
“Johnny, don’t be asking for things,” his mother admonished.
“Nothing wrong in asking, Mrs. Lark,” Edward said. “Worse that’ll happen is that I’ll say no.” He winked at Johnny. “Then again, I might say yes. Come on, lad.”
After grabbing the reins to their horses, Edward offered Julia his arm.
“It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Lark,” Julia said before placing her hand in the crook of Edward’s elbow.
Johnny hopped on one foot, then the other, darting in front of her before settling in to walk beside Edward. “I can do more than polish your boots,” he assured Edward. “I can take care of your horses and your dogs, if you have dogs. Do you have dogs?”
“We have some hunting dogs, yes.”
“Don’t take care of cats, though. Don’t like cats.”
“Think the cats pretty much take care of themselves. Would you rather work in the stables than in the manor?”
The boy nodded feverishly. “Can I pet your horse?”
“You may.”
“If I work hard will you tell me some more stories?”
She watched Edward’s profile as the corner of his mouth lifted. “I may very well indeed.”
“I liked the weasel best.”
Edward’s laughter echoed around them. “Yes, I imagined you would.”
“Think he should have a sword, though.”
Edward shifted his gaze to her. “What do you think, countess?”
“I don’t know that I see him with a sword. A rapier, perhaps. Or maybe we need another character entirely.” Another one was beginning to take shape in her mind. “You shared the story with him.”
“Seemed the best way to keep the children calm.”
She wondered how many lords would have given two figs if the children were rambunctious. But then how many lords would have stayed with a recent widow and cared for her?
She bid her time until they were sitting at the same table they’d sat at before, strawberry tarts and cups of tea in front of them. Before sending Johnny on his way, Edward had loaded him up with meat pies and enough various pastries to give the entire family a bellyache. “How did you come to know Mrs. Lark?” Julia asked.
He shrugged. “Johnny was in here, trying to purchase a meat pie for his dying mum. He didn’t have enough money so I bought them, escorted him home, and discovered his mother was indeed ill.”
“You remained to take care of them.”
“Her husband had recently died. People are suspicious about death. Some believe it lingers, searching for another victim.”
“But you don’t?”
“There’s not a good deal that I fear. Losing my parents when I was so young caused me to become a bit reckless. Then, of course, living at Havisham where we were told that a ghost would snatch us up at night if we went outside made us all rather intrepid. You can only live in fear for so long before you say to hell with it.”
“A method to the marquess’s madness?”
“Possibly. I hadn’t considered that, but yes, I suppose it’s quite possible.”
Sipping her tea, she considered his earlier actions. “Offering Mrs. Lark a place at Evermore was very generous.”
“We can well afford to be generous.”
It touched her that he included her in that statement, that he made her feel as though she had been generous as well when she had in fact had nothing at all to do with it.
“I’m thinking you should publish your stories,” she said.
“Only if you’re willing to include your watercolors.”
She laughed, pleased and embarrassed by the notion. “They’re not that good.”
“They’re very good. They bring my words to life. I wished I’d had them with me when I was recounting my tales to Johnny and his sisters.”
She shook her head. “I never meant to share them with anyone other than my child.”
Placing his elbows on the table, he leaned forward. “Why would you limit them to bringing only one child joy when they could bring happiness to so many?”
“You never struck me as someone who cared so much about children.” Yet, she’d seen it in the attention he gave Allie and the camaraderie he’d developed with a young lad who had no qualms whatsoever in climbing over a lord of the realm.
He grinned. “It’s a fault of having never grown up.”
But he had grown up. She’d seen that as well. He was a caring landowner. He took care of people. He possessed a kindness that he’d kept hidden from her; yet it had been there all along when he tried to ensure that Albert never became aware of his feelings for Julia. When he’d allowed himself to be disparaged and disliked in order to protect her and Albert.
“We would have to give the story a name,” she told him.
“The Adventurous Friends of Havisham Hall.”
She laughed. “We should probably disguise it a bit more.”
“We’ll think on it, then.”
It was as though they were planning a future. Whether or not they decided to spend their life together, they would have the stories, the books to connect them. They would have something that they had created together. But she doubted it would be enough to sustain her.
She needed more.
As they rode back toward Evermore, the words echoed with the plodding of her horse’s hooves. She needed more. Needed more.
She needed the wind in her face, the freedom, the danger, the chase. Before he could caution her against it, she yelled, “I’ll race you to the top of the distant rise,” and prompted her horse into a sprint.
Without any doubt, she knew she was being reckless, but he seemed to call out that aspect of her. She’d spent her entire life striving to be the good daughter, the good cousin, the good wife. She regretted not a single moment of it, yet with him she felt no need to judge her actions before she acted. She experienced a certain independence that had never characterized her behavior before. Originally she’d credited it to changes within her while her husband was away, but she realized now it had more to do with Edward taking on a significant role in her life—even before she realized he was Edward.
She heard the pounding of his horse’s hooves and urged her own into a faster gallop. She felt young, happy, unburdened. For the first time in weeks, sorrow was not dogging her heels.
His horse’s labored breathing sounding so very close signaled that he was catching up, but she was almost there. Just a bit farther. Then she crested the rise, drew her mare up short, spun around. Her laughter echoed through the copse of trees, up to the heavens and over the land surrounding her.
He was grinning broadly as he brought his own beast to a stop. “Well done.”
“I can’t remember the last time I rode with such abandon.”
“We need to give the horses a rest.” He dismounted, walked over to her and held up his arms.
His nearness still caused a fluttering in her belly, but her triumph overrode the sensations. She’d controlled her horse; she could control him. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she broke away from him and, with a teasing giggle, dashed over to a nearby tree. His deep laughter floated toward her, and she heard the thud of his footfalls.
Whirling around, she pressed her back to the tree. “No touching, no kissing,” she ordered, knowing that with the barest of caresses she would find herself ceding control over to him.
Before she was even aware of his intent, he was leaning in, his forearms raised and resting against the bark, his head bent, his cheek nearly but not quite touching hers. “Not touching,” he rasped, his raw voice sending a shiver of desire through her.
“But if I were allowed to touch you,” he said on a seductive whisper, “I would begin with your gloves, slowly unbuttoning them before peeling them off, one at a time, stuffing them in the pocket of my jacket. I would press a kiss to the knuckles of your left hand, the palm of your right.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as she imagined the heat of his mouth coating her skin in dew.
“Then I would free two buttons of your bodice—only two—just enough so I could dip my tongue into the hollow at your throat.”
Her breath grew shallow, heat surged through her.
“I would lap at your skin, three times, four, before trailing my lips up to the underside of your jaw. I would inhale the rose fragrance tucked away behind your ear, and skim my mouth over your neck, from one side to the other and back to center.”
“Edward—”
“Shh, I’m not done yet.”
But she nearly was. She didn’t know how she continued to stand when her legs had become unsteady.
“Two more buttons I would loosen; nay, three. I would slip one finger between the parted cloth and glide it slowly, lightly, provocatively over the swells of your breasts, aware of your sharp intake of breath as you lifted them higher, yearning for a surer caress, one that encompassed the whole of my hand reaching inside your corset, your chemise, to cup your entire breast—”
“Oh, my Lord,” she breathed out on a whisper.
“—my thumb and forefinger pinching the tight little bud of your nipple as it puckered for me.”
She swallowed hard. She’d thought she was in control, but he had easily reversed their roles until she was little more than his puppet. Dampness formed between her thighs. Her nipples were not the only buds reaching for him, desperate for the pressure of his hand stirring sensations to life, eclipsing the fantasy with reality.
“If I had leave to touch you—”
“Don’t,” she pleaded in a raw voice that sounded as though it belonged to another woman.
“If I had leave to touch you, I would go to my knees and lift your skirt high, exposing the pink heart of your womanhood. I know it’s glistening with dampness at this very moment. Even without being able to touch you, I can feel the heat of passion radiating from you. I suspect your breasts are straining against the cloth, desperate for the caress you’re denying them. You’re throbbing between your thighs. My tongue could offer surcease, with just the right amount of pressure I could have you screaming.”
Her eyes flew open. “You’re the very devil.”
He laughed darkly. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You know you’re not, damn you.”
“I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you. You torment me. It’s only fair that I torment you.”
“And once you’ve had me?”
“I’ll want you again.”
“How do you know?”
Pushing back, he held her gaze. “Because I love you.”
“What if it’s just that we were lost in the pretense?”
“The pretense is gone now, yet still the emotions remain. Why do you doubt?”
“Most are lucky to be loved once. Why should I be fortunate enough to be loved twice, to have happiness twice? I’m afraid fate will snatch it away if I reach for it again.”
“So I’ll be denied because you don’t trust fate? Fate can go to the devil, Julia. Place your trust in me.”
Reaching up, she brushed his hair back from his brow. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his hat. “A little more time, Edward.”
“I’d be lying if I said I’m in no hurry. I want you with a desperation that threatens to unman me, but I want all of you, without guilt, without shadows, without ghosts. And for that I will wait with all the patience I can muster.”
He understood her, comprehended why she struggled. She didn’t want to lose her past, but she had to let go of it in order to reach for a future with him. But always he would be inextricably tied to Albert. “I’m closer to saying goodbye to what was. I enjoy the time I spend with you. I’m glad for the opportunities to get to know you better. You’re not at all as I thought you were. You may be the least selfish person I’ve ever known.”
“Don’t make me into a saint.”
“Oh, I’m not so much taken with you that I would mistake you for anything other than the devilish sort. It’s only that I’m coming to realize I like the devilish sort.”