"Have you ever read Frances Burney's Evalina, my lord?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Then let me enlighten you. The novel Evalina is perhaps sentimental, but it is not to be mocked. Burney writes with a good deal of satire and wit, and her heroine is filled with fire and gumption. I am passionate about history and have decided to write a fictional biography of a famous woman who lived in Elizabethan England."
Nick Royston's features sobered. "You are right to chastise me. I was being condescending. It is just beginning to dawn on me that you are indeed serious about your writing. My respect for your intelligence is rising by the moment. I humbly beg your pardon, Lady Julia."
"Liar! You never did anything humble in your life, my lord."
He grinned. "Mea Culpa."
"I forgive you, but I have a suggestion, Lord Royston. If you allow me my solitude to write today, I will go riding with you tomorrow."
"It's a bargain... providing you agree to call me Nicholas."
Chapter Seven
Julia greeted the Ashridge stableman, and told him she would saddle her own palfrey. "I'm going riding with our neighbor from Royston Hall this morning."
"Which one? His nibs or the young 'un?"
Julia grinned. "His nibs, the viscount."
"Ah, then ye won't be hunting."
"Perhaps, perhaps not," she said with a wink. Though Julia had a fashionable new riding habit, she wore her old dark green riding dress that she kept in the wardrobe at Ashridge. Though she had tied back her long dark hair, curly tendrils escaped to frame her face. She led the glossy chestnut from the stables just as Royston rode into the yard.
"Good morning. Nicholas."
His eyes shone with amusement that she used his name, honoring their bargain. "Yes, it is a good morning. What's the name of your palfrey?"
"Gloriana. I chose the name because of her color."
"You are indeed a student of history."
"Yes, particularly the Elizabethan era."
"Is that the time period you're writing about?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. My story is about Elizabeth Hardwick."
"Bess? Good God, you've chosen a strong, dominant woman for your heroine."
Julia laughed. "I have no interest in writing about a pathetic, wishy-washy female, and I suspect none would be interested in reading about one."
"Didn't she have a string of marriages?"
"Four, to be exact. Unlike today's females, Bess didn't take lovers, she took husbands."
Nicholas helped her into her saddle, and then remounted his own horse. "I thought we could ride through Royston Heath. I keep it as a sort of nature reserve."
"Oh lovely. Although I've ridden there before without permission."
"Then henceforth you have my permission to explore the health whenever you fancy."
The pair rode past Royston's cultivated fields of barley, divided by bushy hedgerows, past meadows filled with his roan-colored, shorthorn cattle, then they galloped over the hilly heath. Brown hares could be seen racing in every direction. The riders surprised a small herd of Muntjac deer that took flight, jumping high over imaginary obstacles and bringing laughter to Julia and Nicholas.
They cantered through horseshoe vetch, sending swarms of Chalkhill Blue, and Marble White butterflies into the warm summer air. Julia pointed to a stand of trees where a flock of Royston Hooded Crows sat cawing raucously. "I love the crows!"
"Me too. Unfortunately, there aren't as many as there used to be. The farmers shoot them."
They stopped by a wide stream and dismounted, allowing their horses to crop the grass.
"Actually, we are in Cambridgeshire now. My Royston lands straddle the border. The landscape tends to flatten out as you go north toward Cambridge."
They sat down on a huge fallen log, watching the fish dart about in the water.
"I'm curious about what you do when you are sent on a diplomatic mission," Julia said.
"Are you truly interested, or just being polite?"
"Nicholas, of course I'm interested. I don't feel a pressing need to be polite to you."
"Great Britain has now been at war with France for seven years. Until recently we had an alliance against France with seven other countries, but last year Spain dropped out. I was sent to Portugal to make sure it didn't follow Spain. Portugal's Iberian Peninsula can be used as a base of operations against Napoleon, but that country depends upon Britain for financial aid."
"So basically, you funnel money to our allies."
"You grasp the situation very well."
"Why did Spain drop out of the alliance?"
"The blunt truth is that France operates a network of corruption and graft in Spain."
"So France bribed Spain to withdraw?"
"Apparently their bribe was larger than ours." His voice was cynical.
"Does Britain want this war with France?"
"We do not. I, and many other diplomats are trying to negotiate a peace treaty. Wars are expensive. So far this one has cost over half a trillion pounds."
Julia jumped to her feet. "Good God, that is truly obscene. Just think of the good that amount of money could do to help our own people. I hope you do negotiate a peace treaty."
"These things take time, and a good deal of patience." Royston was pleasantly surprised that he could converse with a female about his diplomatic service, but of course there were things he couldn't, nor wouldn't divulge. "Enough about war, shall we resume our ride?"
"Yes, please." Julia allowed him to lift her into the saddle, and it made her feel special when his hands lingered on her waist longer than was necessary.
"Why don't we go to the Boars Head in the village for lunch?"
"That sounds delightful. Lead the way."
At the public inn they sat at a scrubbed wooden table for two, beside a mullioned window. The ceiling was low beamed, and the flagstone floor was covered with fresh shavings. When the serving maid came to take their order, Julia read the luncheon items chalked on a board. "You first, Nicholas."
"I'll have the plowman’s lunch, and a mug of ale, please."
"I'll have the same," Julia said decisively.
"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer wine or cider?" he asked.
"No, I have a fancy for ale." She had no idea what a plowman's lunch was, so when the server brought the food she was pleasantly surprised to see two thick slices of freshly baked bread, a pot of churned butter, wedges of soft, white Cheshire cheese, thick slices of ham, and two large pickled onions. "The bread smells heavenly."
"Yes, food for the gods." Nicholas picked up the jug of ale and filled their mugs. It was a most unladylike repast, and Nicholas could think of no other female of his acquaintance who would not have shuddered in horror at such peasant fare. He was both pleased and amused when Julia tucked right in without hesitation.
They both devoured their food and washed it down with the brown ale. Julia picked up a pickled onion and crunched into it. "Ah, the pièce de résistance."
Nicholas smiled and shook his head. "That would be you. Sweet and tart."
Julia thought fleetingly of Scandal by the Ton. "I'm not always sweet; I can be vitriolic."
"A fascinating combination. Deliver me from females who are bland and vapid." He too had saved his onions 'till last. He picked them up and ate them, then licked the vinegar off his fingers as Julia had done.
Outside the Boars Head, a hostler brought their horses, and once again Nicholas lifted her. But this time, before he set her on her saddle, he kissed her impulsively. "I wanted to do that all through lunch," he confessed.
"You taste of onions," she teased.
"You, too. How very debauched we are."
Nicholas escorted her back to Ashridge Place, but before he departed he asked, "You will come out again with me, won't you?"
"Of course. When you think of some other debauchery we can indulge, just let me know."
All afternoon and evening, Julia thought about Nicholas Roy
ston. When she went to the library to work on her book, she finished the prologue, then her mind drifted to the noble lord who lived next door. When Luna rubbed against her ankles, Julia said, "I assumed his interest in me was to avenge the humiliation Mother dished out to him. That was a plausible assumption while we were in London, but here there is no one to see us or gossip about us."
Julia stroked Luna's head. "Blink once if you agree with me; twice if you disagree."
Luna blinked.
"I came here to put some distance between us. Dottie once said, A female runs away, so that the male will follow her. If he came to Hertfordshire because I'm here, I am flattered beyond words."
Luna blinked.
"If I admit the truth, I am hopelessly attracted to him. Nick Royston is so overtly masculine that he makes me feel extremely feminine. He's also dark, dominant, and dangerous-- everything that sets the heart on fire."
Luna began to purr and rolled on the rug.
"Exactly. That's how he makes me feel."
Over at Royston Hall, Nicholas sat at his desk in the library going over the accounts. He'd been responsible for both the estate and his younger brother since his parents had died in the influenza epidemic when he eighteen. The limestone from his quarry was bringing in good profits, and his Royston fields had produced a bumper crop of barley for the last three years. His vast malt house was producing malt almost year round, and the price was going up monthly. As well, his herds of Hertfordshire shorthorns were thriving.
Money went both ways of course. Repairs to the houses of his tenant farmers were a constant expense, but it gave him a feeling of deep satisfaction that his people were well-housed and fed. Nicholas had founded two schools in Royston, one for the younger children, and the other a grammar school for the older pupils of the town. He considered it a small expense in return for the riches his Royston landholdings produced.
His mind wandered from the account books to Lady Julia next door. He was happy that their chance meeting at the Duchess of Gordon's had prompted him to get to know Claire Shelborne's daughter. Though initially his motive had been retaliation against Julia's mother, he had been pleasantly surprised at the lady's intelligence, humor, and yes, her youth and beauty were potent attractions.
The fragrance of the night-scented heliotrope stole to him through the open library window and lured him outside into the moonlit garden. A light breeze rustled the leaves, and Nick's senses told him the night was made for romance.
He raised his head and listened when he thought he heard a cry.
"Luna! Where are you, pussycat?"
Nicholas realized it was Julia on the other side of the wall, in her own garden. Then he spotted the black cat jump up onto the stones. "She's here on the wall, chasing moths," he shouted.
Julia moved toward his voice and laughed. "She likes to sleep all day and prowl all night."
"Felines are semi-nocturnal." His powerful legs climbed over the wall then he picked up Luna and made his way toward Julia. "Here she is. Would it hurt to leave her out here?"
"Well, it might. I know that foxes and badgers are nocturnal also."
"You're right, of course. But if you stay in the garden for a while, she'll be safe."
"Ah, but will I, Lord Royston? If you say yes I'll be insulted."
"And if you don't start calling me Nicholas, I'll be insulted."
Julia set Luna down by a flower bed, and the cat immediately stalked something with wings. "The fragrance of the night-scented stocks is almost intoxicating tonight."
"It was the scent of the heliotrope that lured me outside."
"It's lovely. It reminds me of vanilla."
Nicholas bent down and plucked one of the bell-shaped flowers and held it out to her. "The flowers don't open until evening, then in the night they readjust themselves to face eastward, to be ready for the sunrise."
"I didn't know that." She took the flower and examined it in the moonlight. "It has a tiny yellow eye, the same color as Luna's. How do you know so much about flowers?"
"I have Nicholas Culpeper's Complete Herbal from the seventeenth century in my library."
"Perhaps we are both bibliophiles!"
Nicholas smiled, "Another thing we have in common. It would be my pleasure to have you come and browse in my library."
"I'll come tomorrow, if I may."
"You may-- I quite enjoy your company. How about a moonlight stroll?" His long fingers closed over hers and the pair moved along a brick walkway between the flower beds.
Julia laughed softly. "Is this what's known as leading me down the garden path?"
"Indeed it is not. There is an element of deception in that idiom."
"We all deceive from time to time. It's human nature." I'm Ann Onymous. I practice deception every week. Julia felt a twinge of guilt, but managed to banish it.
They stopped by the carp pond and heard the splash of frogs, and the trickle of the fountain. The moon sailed behind a cloud, and all about became shadowed in subtle mystery. Nicholas slipped his arms about Julia and drew her close, then he dipped his head and took possession of her lips. His hot demanding kiss lit a spark deep within him and he knew he wanted to possess her.
Julia felt a frisson of desire as his mouth firmly pressed against hers and she opened her lips in invitation. The thrust of his tongue was hot and hungry, and she shivered with her first taste of arousal. She felt his lips trace her throat and the tip of his tongue followed her delicate clavicle and it made her feel weak with longing. She reached up and caressed his cheek with her palm.
Nicholas raised his hand to playfully run his fingers through her dark curls. He did not fully understand why he was drawn to her so strongly, he hadn't reasoned it out.
The new sensations racing through Julia made her quite breathless, and her heart beat so loudly that she felt sure he could hear it.
Nicholas bent, placed a powerful arm beneath her knees and lifted her against him. She slid her arms about his neck and he slowly walked to a wooden garden bench. He sat down, holding Julia in his lap. As his mouth covered hers, his hands caressed her back then pressed her close.
Julia could feel her breasts brush against the hard muscles of his chest, and she felt her nipples ruche from the delicious friction as she melted against him.
Suddenly, the moon glided from behind the cloud and bathed them in its bright silver light. Luna jumped up onto Julia's knee, arched her back, and rubbed her head beneath Julia's chin. It broke the intensity of the fierce desire that was soaring out of control between the couple. Julia gave a shuddering sigh, and Nick laughed ruefully. "She's a damn good chaperone."
Julia looked up at the moon. "It's as if the lights came on, telling us that the first act of the play is over." She slipped from his knee, and he arose reluctantly.
"Promise that you'll come and look at my books tomorrow?"
She gave him a seductive sideways glance. "Of course I'll come. I couldn't bear to miss the second act."
Chapter Eight
Julia awoke bright and early the next morning with a delicious feeling of anticipation. As she stretched her arms above her head, thoughts of last night's intimate encounter in the garden came back to her. Fleeting glimpses of a dream tried to insinuate itself into her consciousness, but the ephemeral memories teased, then danced away. I think I was dreaming about Nicholas.
She slipped out of bed, opened her wardrobe, and decided to wear her new lavender riding habit for her visit to Royston Hall later in the morning. The housekeeper ordered her a bath, then Dottie's personal maid helped her dress and fashion her hair into a chignon. At breakfast she enjoyed a mushroom and cheese omelet and told Mrs. Barlow the housekeeper that she was visiting their neighbor and had no idea when she'd be back. Julia picked up her riding gloves and decided to walk over to Royston Hall.
When Nicholas arrived in the breakfast room, he was surprised to see his brother sitting at the table enjoying gammon ham, eggs, and sausages.
"When the devil did y
ou arrive?"
Michael grinned. "An ungodly hour to someone as civilized as you, I suppose. But when I read your note that you'd traveled to Hertfordshire, I became quite envious. Then last night, after spending hours at Brooks, where the gaming rooms were packed with noisy, heavy-drinking gamblers, I decided the fresh air and open countryside of Hertfordshire were exactly what I needed."
"Yes, Mick, I quite agree Hertfordshire will be much healthier for you than the dissipated life you lead in London." Nicholas helped himself to breakfast from the sideboard.
"Perhaps I will take you as my role model, and make something of myself."
"Don't be facetious."
"Nick, I swear I'm not mocking you. I am perfectly sincere."
"Good. We've already harvested an early barley crop. Why don't you take a look in the malthouse and see if the green malt has started to sprout yet?"
"Speaking of malt, why don't we start a brewhouse so we could produce our own beer?"
"Why not? You can oversee the project. Are you hunting this morning?"
"I thought I might. Will you join me?" Michael invited.
"Not today. I'm expecting a visitor."
Mick grimaced. "If it's the reverend from St. John's Church, I think I'll be off to the stables."
"As you wish."
They left the breakfast room together and walked through the Great Hall. A manservant appeared and announced to Nicholas, "Lady Julia Shelborne has arrived, my lord."
Michael smiled with delight. "Your visitor, I presume?" They headed to the reception hall.
"Good morning, Julia. Look who the cat dragged in," Nick jested.
"Poor Luna gets blamed for everything." She held out her gloved hand to Mick.
"Lady Julia, how absolutely marvelous to find you here in Hertfordshire."
"I invited Julia to browse through the books in our library." Nicholas smiled into her eyes. "Mick is going hunting."
"No, I'm not," he declared. "It would be rude to leave when we have a visitor. I'll look at the books too. It couldn't hurt."
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