A week later, galloping his horse through the freezing rain, Edward ignored the sleet that pricked his face and cursed the weather for turning foul so quickly, cursed the farmer who had needed help pushing a wagon out of the mud, cursed his need to have an active role in managing the estates, to check on the tenants, to ensure all was well.
He considered for all of a heartbeat returning to the farm and taking shelter there until the storm passed, but he knew Julia would worry, and his entire purpose behind his ruse was to ensure that she didn’t fret.
And blast it all, he didn’t want to go another moment without seeing her. He wanted to enjoy an evening spent in her company, dining and conversing. Going to bed.
That he was content just lying with her had been a revelation. He liked listening to her breathing, enjoyed inhaling her fragrance when it became laced with the scent of sleep. It was a little different than when she was awake.
Sometimes she snored, more of a soft snuffling sound.
Whether she faced him or had her back to him, her feet always managed to work their way between his calves. And they were bloody cold when they first made their way there. He might have yelped if he didn’t fear discouraging her, as he was fond of having her body oddly interwoven with his.
It was dangerous, so dangerous, how much he enjoyed being in her company. It didn’t matter her reason for being with him. It only mattered that she was—
His horse screamed. He was aware of nothing surrounding him and then pain ricocheting through his shoulder, along his ribs, air refusing to come into his lungs, his eyes tearing up. Rolling to his back, he found himself in danger of drowning from all the rain. Relax, don’t fight the pain. Draw in a little air. Just a little.
It wasn’t the first time in his life that he’d taken a tumble. He doubted it would be his last, but it certainly couldn’t have happened at a more inopportune time. Darkness was descending. And he was so bloody cold.
He thought of the warm fire waiting for him, the warm brandy, and the warm woman.
Pushing himself to a sitting position, he was grateful that his lungs seemed to be working again, even more grateful to see his gelding standing, although it was favoring its left front leg. Damnation. Making his way to his feet, he cautiously approached and knelt before his steed. Gently, he ran his hands over the leg. “Doesn’t appear to be broken. That’s good, but I assume you’ve gone lame.” Taking the reins, he stood and guided the horse forward. It limped but at least it wasn’t screeching in pain.
Edward glanced around, trying to map out the countryside in his mind, calculate distance. When he and Albert had reached their majority, they returned to Evermore and their first order of business was to ride over every inch of land that belonged to them, to introduce themselves to the tenants, to understand exactly what had been left to Albert. Edward had felt no jealousy, no envy, no desire to hold what had been placed in Albert’s keeping. He was content to be the second son, to receive an allowance, to be free of responsibility. Even now he was merely the heir presumptive until Julia delivered her child, hopefully his brother’s heir.
Although he could no longer be completely without responsibility. He would have to see after the raising of his brother’s child. One day he would take the lad on a ride over this land, would introduce him to the tenants, would speak to him of his father. And he would hope that in time he would be able to forget how right it had felt to hold Julia while she slept.
With a frustrated sigh, he realized he was probably as close to the manor house as he was to any tenant lodging where he might be able to leave his horse and borrow another. He was not looking forward to the next couple of hours, but there was no hope for it. “Going to be a long walk, old boy. We’d best get to it.”
More than once, as he began to lose feeling in his hands and feet, he considered stopping, lying down, taking a rest, but he feared if he ceased moving for even a few minutes he would cease moving forever. And that wouldn’t do. Not with Julia waiting for him. Rather, waiting for her husband.
He pictured her working with her watercolors, sporadically looking through the windows toward the hills, striving to spot his dashing figure astride the gelding as it loped down the slope. Edward had deliberately gone in a direction that ensured she would be able to catch sight of him when he returned. But that wasn’t going to happen now. Full darkness was almost upon him.
If he had grown up here, if he knew this land as well as he knew every hill and dale that surrounded Havisham, he might be more confident that he was trudging along the correct path. The sleet and snow obscured the stars. The compass he always carried in his pocket was of little use without light, and he doubted that if he struck a match, he could keep the flame going long enough against the wind to get a bead on the arrow of the compass.
Yet he was determined that one way or another he would make his way back to Julia, he would give her no reason to mourn for a husband she had already lost.
Julia had done very little that afternoon except stand at the window and watch for her husband’s return. She shouldn’t have let him go out. Had she asked, he would have stayed. She knew he would have. He’d become more solicitous than he’d ever been, given her more attention than he ever had. He’d never really been lacking in either regard, but there was more devotion now—which she’d hardly thought possible.
His touches came more frequently, his interest in her more intense. He seemed to care about every aspect of her. She thought she’d loved him as much as it was possible to love any man. Strange to realize that she loved him a little bit more each day.
Before he left for the safari, it was as though their love had plateaued, as though there was nothing additional for either of them to give to the other. But now she realized how wrong she’d been. There would always be more, something new to discover, uncover. A reason for their feelings to be reignited with a passion that surpassed what it had been.
So she was striving not to worry because the sun had disappeared but her husband had not yet reappeared over the rise. She’d never before noticed how dashing he looked riding away from her. She’d anticipated him looking far more dashing returning to her, a smile spreading across his face as he saw her. But it was growing too dark for her to see anything.
After ringing for the butler, she returned to her post at the window. If his travels hadn’t ended in tragedy, she might not be so worried, but it could have easily been him the gorilla attacked rather than Edward. Life was precarious. She heard the click of the door opening, the fall of Rigdon’s footsteps.
“You had a need, m’lady?” he asked.
“His lordship went over that rise this morning. As he’s yet to return, I fear he might have suffered a mishap.”
“He’s an excellent horseman. The weather is no doubt slowing him or perhaps he took shelter for the night.”
He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave her to worry. She turned from the window. “Gather up the outdoor servants and send them to search for him.”
Surprise flickered across Rigdon’s face before he could prevent it, but he quickly returned his expression to its stoic state. “It’s rather nasty out there, m’lady.”
“Which is the very reason they need to find him.”
While Rigdon moved not a muscle, she was rather certain that deep inside, he was shifting his weight, possibly shuffling his feet. “I’m not certain he would approve of that action.”
He wouldn’t. Placing servants at risk. He wouldn’t like it at all. “Then he should have returned sooner. Send them out.”
“As you wish, m’lady.”
He left, and she gave her attention back to the gloom. It was dreadful out there. She was being selfish to care about only her own happiness. Albert was not going to be pleased with her, even if he’d taken a tumble and was in trouble. But she could not bear the thought of him languishing—
A shape in the distance, an odd silhouette, caught her notice. Not a man on a horse, but she was relatively certain it was a man and quite possibly a horse.
“Rigdon!” Her heart hammering, she rushed from the room and nearly slammed into a footman. “Find Rigdon, let him know that someone is coming over the hill. Could be his lordship.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
He took off, his long legs quickly separating him from her, and she was suddenly quite grateful for tall footmen. She was pacing the entryway when the front door finally opened and a familiar figure stepped through.
“Albert!” She was suddenly in his arms, aware of his trembling and the cold of his skin as he placed his cheek to her temple.
“You shouldn’t be touching me,” he said. “I’m filthy.”
Only his grip on her was so sure, so tight, she wasn’t certain she could have broken away even if she’d wanted. Which she didn’t. “I was so worried.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. I helped a farmer whose wagon had become stuck in the mud. On my way home, my horse went lame. It was a day of mishaps.”
“I was afraid you’d gotten lost.”
Gently, with a gloved hand, he tipped up her face. “Not when you’re my north star.”
Then his mouth was on hers as though they’d been separated for years rather than hours, or as though a parting was on the horizon that couldn’t be avoided. He was worried about the dangers of her giving birth, she knew that. But this seemed to be more, was woven with urgency, with need. She wondered if he’d feared never making his way back to her, if the storm had caused him to doubt that he’d ever again have the chance to hold her, to kiss her.
Drawing back, he held her gaze. “You warm better than any fire.”
She smiled. “I should hope so. Rigdon, have a bath prepared for his lordship.”
“Have already seen to it, m’lady.”
Nodding, Albert released her. “Then I shall take advantage of that.”
“I’ll come with you, assist—”
“No need. I shan’t be long. I’m as hungry as I am cold.” He folded a hand over her shoulder. “I’ll join you for dinner shortly.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Always she would wait for him.
Watching him trudge up the stairs, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she might have lost him tonight, that tragedy seemed to take delight in visiting this family.
With a shudder of pleasure, Edward sank into the steaming water. He would have preferred sinking into Julia, which was the very reason that he forced himself to decline her invitation to assist him. His passions were on a short tether.
During each grueling step, he had envisioned her face, her smile, her soft voice urging him forward. When he had opened the door and seen her standing there, seen the relief, the joy wreathing her features, everything he felt for her that he had spent years denying—burying beneath caustic remarks and asinine behavior, drowning in drink—burst forth like a volcano spewing ash and lava. And just as the molten magma covered everything near it, so he had wanted to envelop her, to take true possession, complete possession.
Julia wouldn’t have denied him, would have given him anything he asked. He saw it in the glittering of her eyes. But she would have thought she was giving it to Albert. Her joy at his return wasn’t truly for him. And that knowledge had chilled him more than the winds and snow blowing beyond the walls. But it didn’t lessen his desire for her, and that was the damnable problem.
He heard the door click quietly open. “I’m not yet ready for you, Marlow.”
“How lucky you are then that I’m not he.”
Pushing himself up from his lounging position, causing the water to ripple around him, he glanced back over his shoulder to see Julia standing there, holding a glass.
She smiled sweetly. “I thought you might like some scotch.”
“You’re a godsend.” He held out his hand, fully expecting her to give him the glass and depart.
Instead she came around and knelt beside the tub before extending the glass to him. He took a healthy swallow, savoring the heat that settled deep within him. He cast her a sideways glance. “I shan’t be much longer.”
“I’d like to wash your back.”
“It’s not necessary.”
She took a cloth and the soap from a nearby stand, dipped them in the water, and began to rub them together. “I want to.”
“Julia—”
She arched a brow. “You know better than to argue with me when my mind is set.”
He knew nothing at all, except that it was very unwise for her touch him when his mind had careened into lascivious thoughts during his trek in order to keep his legs moving forward. Another swallow of scotch, larger than the one he’d taken before. Steeling himself, he placed his elbows on his upraised knees, allowing his back to curve slightly. “Do your worst.”
The light tinkling of her laughter echoed through the room as she moved behind him. “I’ve long wanted to do this,” she said as she placed both her hands on either side of his spine.
What had become of the bloody cloth?
Then another thought dawned. She’d never done this for his brother. He tossed back what remained of the scotch, clutched the glass in fingers that wanted to reach back and bring her forward, cradle her face, kiss her. Do something to distract himself from the light press of her palms as they glided down his back, up and over his shoulders. God, but it felt marvelous.
“Whose wagon got stuck in the mud?” she asked.
How was he supposed to think with her fingers dancing over his skin? “Beckett, I think. Yes, Beckett.”
Why did his voice sound as though he was strangling? Perhaps because he was having a devil of a time drawing in air.
“Am I hurting you?” she asked.
“God, no.”
“Should I stop?”
Yes, yes, please in the name of all that is holy . . .
“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Unless you want to.”
“I don’t. It’s as lovely as I thought it would be, the water and soap creating a slickness as my hands glide over your skin.”
The glass in his hand was in danger of breaking with the exertion he was placing on it. It was a risk, but he had to ask. “If you wanted to do this before, why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t think you’d approve of my boldness. But then this evening, when I feared something had happened to you, that I might lose you, I realized how silly I’d been.”
Turning slightly until he could see her, he said, “Julia, I’ve always liked my women bold.”
Her brow furrowed slightly. “I thought you wanted me prim and proper, a countess above reproach.”
“I want you to be however you are. You don’t have to pretend with me.” The irony of his words didn’t escape him since he was pretending with her. And he hated it. Hated that he couldn’t yet tell her the truth. Only a few more weeks. He could hold onto the ruse a bit longer, but there was no reason for her to be anyone other than who she was. He didn’t like considering that perhaps his brother had caused her to hold her passions in check. He’d have not done it on purpose, but of all the hellions, Albert had been the most upstanding, avoiding Society’s censure while the others embraced it.
She scooted around until he could see her more clearly. With the pads of her palms she began creating small circles over his shoulders, carrying them down his arms, back up, her eyes focused on the movements of her hands rather than on his face.
“I’ve missed the intimacy,” she murmured so low that he nearly didn’t hear her.
“We agreed that for the sake of the child—”
“Yes, I know,” she cut in, lifting her gaze to his, “but that doesn’t extinguish the want, does it.” A statement, not a question.
He should banish her now, announce that he was ready to dress, but her eyes, her voice, held such raw need, he could no more dismiss her words than he could dismiss her. “No, it doesn’t.”
His words rang with far too much truth.
Her hand slowly dipped below the surface of the water, closed around him, her lips curving into a slow, sensual smile, no doubt because she’d discovered him hard and ready. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, stilling her. “Julia—”
“Please, let me do this for you,” she rasped with such longing that everything in him tightened with unbearable need.
“I’m not in the habit of receiving without giving.” Dear God, the words were out before he’d given them any thought. How could he think when she was tempting him so? He could only hope that he hadn’t revealed himself, that she wasn’t going to call him a liar.
“One of your unspoken rules, no doubt, but rules are meant to be broken. It would give me so much pleasure to break this one.”
“The pleasure would be all mine, Julia.”
She shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t. I promise I would take equal delight from watching you. It’s been so, so long. Allow me to grant you release. Please.”
She would despise him when she learned the truth, but how could he deny her what she so obviously yearned for without causing her to doubt her husband’s attraction for her, his love of her? When weighed against what the future held, all that mattered was this moment, ensuring that she was happy, that she was secure in her belief that her husbands’ regard for her had not changed.
Slowly, he relaxed his fingers, lifted his hand to her cheek, not caring that water dripped onto her gown. He brought her nearer, settling his mouth over hers. Her lips parted on a quiet sigh, his tongue stroked hers with the same determination that she caressed him. He brought up his other hand, cradling her face, not bothering to keep his passions in check, falling into the depths of sensations that she created so masterfully.
She was correct. It had been so long, too long. While he wanted her out of the blasted gown, wanted his hands gliding over every inch of her, he kept them where they were—knowing it was imperative that he lessen her regrets. Oh, but it was difficult when she sighed so softly, when his body was betraying him, when she was so very skilled—
He trailed his mouth along her neck, dipped his tongue in the hollow at her throat. “Jules, dear God, Jules.”
“Shall I stop?” Her voice seemed to come from far away, another world, another sphere.
“Not unless you want me to die.”
She nipped at his chin, took his right lobe between her teeth, worried it for a bit before pressing her mouth to his ear. He could feel the heat, the moisture—
“I love your hot cock straining against my hand,” she murmured in a low, throaty voice.
Christ! He nearly reacted, nearly exploded then and there, but he caught himself just in time, recalling Albert’s bad hearing in one ear. Right ear. Deaf ear. She thought he couldn’t hear her words. How was a man not supposed to react to that? He was a bloody saint.
Hungrily, he took her mouth, craving as much intimacy as he could allow without being eaten by guilt. But it would come later. He knew it would. But for now, for this moment, he was lost in the sensations she brought to life with deft fingers and wicked palms and naughty suggestions. Her other hand journeyed over him as though she were an explorer who had discovered a lost continent and needed to map out every trail, every valley, every rise.
His body bucked with the force of the orgasm slamming into him. His groan was feral and deep, even as his mouth remained latched onto hers, swallowing her soft moan, her triumphant cry. He very nearly dragged her into the copper tub with him.
Instead, breathing heavily, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Damn you.”
Her laughter was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Leaning back, she cradled his face. How could she look so blasted innocent, so sweet, when she uttered such naughty words about his cock? And he had to carry on as though he hadn’t heard them when they were in fact burned into his brain and being repeated like a favorite ditty.
“I knew it would bring me as much pleasure,” she said.
She had truly enjoyed it. It was reflected in the scintillating glow of her eyes. “You should be more selfish.”
Smiling tenderly, she shook her head. “I love you so much.”
Reality came crashing back with a vengeance that very nearly doubled him over. He wasn’t the man she loved. He’d taken advantage of the lies, and all his reasons for doing so seemed to mock him now. “Julia—”
Leaning in, she kissed him deeply before pushing herself to her feet. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”
She strode out, leaving him to sink beneath the water, knowing that one day she would hate him for what had just transpired. What a bastard he was that he couldn’t seem to regret it.
He’d been intimate with countless women, yet every moment with them paled when compared with what he’d just experienced. Dammit all if with Julia he didn’t want a full and complete coupling, a full and complete surrender. With her, he wanted what he could never have.