Never Less Than a Lady

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Never Less Than a Lady Page 14

by Mary Jo Putney

Julia nodded gratefully. She wanted nothing more than to go to ground like a hunted fox.

  Randall added, “Please tell Mr. Mackenzie what happened when he arrives, but I would prefer that you not discuss the matter with anyone else.”

  “Naturally one does not wish family difficulties to be made public,” Beaton murmured. “If you’ll follow me, Major, Lady Julia.”

  Julia was barely aware of climbing the steps, other than that Randall’s steadying hand was on her lower back. She was not alone.

  When was the last time a man had defended her?

  Never.

  Chapter 19

  As soon as Beaton left them alone in the spacious bedchamber, Julia turned into Randall’s arms, burying her face against his shoulder. Her slim body felt fragile. He enfolded her, wishing he could have spared her that horrific scene.

  “I’m sorry you were subjected to that,” she said dully.

  “You are not the one who should be offering apologies,” Randall said acerbically. He took the bonnet from her numbed fingers and tossed it on the bed. “Was your father always this bad?”

  She considered. “I’m not sure. As a girl, I was too well behaved to be the target of his wrath. I seldom saw him, and when I did, he was always very stern and formal. I usually thought of him as ‘the duke,’ not as my father. I don’t think he likes females much.” A shiver went through her. “Then I went to him after Branford’s death, and he…he was vile. I hadn’t known he was capable of such viciousness.”

  “I understand better now why you ran away from your life.” Randall curbed a powerful desire to go after Castleton and beat him senseless. A man really shouldn’t do that to his father-in-law, no matter how much it was deserved. Instead, he pulled the pins from Julia’s hair and combed it loose over her shoulders with his fingers. “It’s a tribute to your strength that you didn’t walk into the sea in truth.”

  “I was tempted. Very tempted.” She gave a little choke of laughter. “But I was too stubborn to surrender. I’m not sure that’s the same as strength.”

  “Close enough.” He began massaging her scalp with his fingertips, and was rewarded by the easing of her tight features.

  “I knew my father would be outraged when I returned from the dead, but I assumed he’d learn some other way,” she said ruefully. “Unexpectedly seeing me alive brought out the worst of his nature. I suspect that much of his fury was because I’d deceived him by not really killing myself.”

  “At least the worst is over now.” Randall ran a warm palm soothingly down her spine. “I doubt that even Daventry could upset you as much.”

  “True.”

  Since she was calmer, he asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

  “Not this time.” She tightened her arms around his waist, as if she feared someone would try to pry her away from him. Randall found it most gratifying.

  “Since you don’t want to send me away, I’d say you and I are making progress.” He scooped Julia up and settled onto the small sofa with her on his lap. She made a small, endearing squeak before relaxing against him, her head against his shoulder. “Castleton, Daventry, Branford. Have all the men in your life been so difficult? What about your brother?”

  “Anthony? I don’t know how he’ll react to knowing I’m alive. We were close as children, but I haven’t seen him in so long. He was sent off to Eton as soon as he was old enough, and he was only fourteen when I married and left home.” She bit her lip. “I haven’t wanted to think about Anthony. He was a darling little brother, but after so many years of being Marquess of Stoneleigh, he might be as insufferable as my father.”

  “What a depressing thought. I imagine you’ll find out soon.” Randall frowned. “Until now, I haven’t thought much about how you’ll deal with your family when we arrive in London. Since Stoneleigh is your closest relative, you might want to write him directly rather than let him find out from your father.”

  She winced. “You’re right. I’ll send a letter to Anthony in the morning mail, though it might not reach him before he receives word from the duke. I should write my grandmother as well. I need to let her know that I’ll be calling very soon, and that she can now reveal to people that I’m alive.”

  “You will be the most sensational topic in the beau monde for at least a week,” Randall predicted. “Perhaps even a whole fortnight.”

  “Surely not that long.” Julia tilted her head up to look at his face. With her dark hair loose around her shoulders, she looked young and delectable. “How did you know I was entitled to family money? When I walked away, I put my inheritance out of my mind and haven’t thought of it since.”

  He shrugged as his hand wandered over the soft curve of her hip. “Your mother was surely wellborn, so there must have been a marriage settlement that provided portions for all children of the union. Perhaps you’ve inherited other property as well.”

  “My mother was a Howard.” Julia smiled without humor. “I have some of the bluest blood in Britain. Far superior to the Hanoverian upstarts who sit on the throne.”

  So she was related to the Duke of Norfolk, the premier duke in England. Randall wasn’t surprised. “Your parents’ marriage contract probably rivaled treaties between small countries for complexity.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” A touch of dryness entered her voice. “Marrying me could prove to be very profitable, since a wife’s property belongs to her husband.”

  “I don’t blame you for being wary of male motives, Julia.” Randall’s eyes narrowed as he caught her gaze. “I am quite capable of supporting a wife without your inheritance, or Daventry’s fortune. But now that I’ve met your father, I think you need to have your own money so that you will never have to feel dependent on a man again. I shall place any property pried loose from your father into a trust for your exclusive use.”

  She ducked her head, her cheeks coloring. “I know you’re not a fortune hunter, Alex. Being around my father brings out my worst nature, just as I bring out his.”

  “Your snappishness is nothing compared to what Daventry does to my temper,” Randall assured her. His caressing hand moved over her hip. Julia was petite, but every part was exactly right. “Didn’t you visit your grandmother when you came to London with Mariah? I assume she was on the maternal side.”

  She nodded. “Grandmère is the only one in my family who knew I was alive. She was very ill earlier this year, and I feared I’d never see her again. That was much of the reason I risked going to London.”

  “That visit must be how Daventry discovered you were alive, and sent Crockett after you.”

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “But I’m not sorry. For all the tumult of the last weeks, I’m glad I’ll be able to live as myself again.”

  Randall never would have met Julia if she’d refused to be Mariah’s chaperone. “But if you were safe in Hartley, you wouldn’t have needed to marry for protection.”

  She tilted her head back and studied his face, her gray eyes serious. “You are the only man who has ever protected me,” she said softly. “The only one. I hadn’t known how much I wanted that.” She leaned up and kissed him.

  It was a serious kiss with parted lips, not a formality. He responded in kind. Julia was a warm, sensual armful, and the restraint he’d been exercising since he freed her from the kidnappers began to crack as his hands moved over alluring curves.

  She caught her breath. “I feel like a cat being petted.”

  “And like a cat, I imagine you’ll leave when you’ve had enough.” He bent to kiss the tender skin beneath her ear. “But for now—Julia, can you trust me enough to relax and see if I can give you pleasure? Though it’s too soon to become lovers, I’d like to see if I can persuade you a few more steps in that direction.”

  “My mind and body still have fears, but my heart trusts you,” she said as she raised her hand to his cheek. The light brush of her fingertips was startlingly erotic.

  Clamping down on his reaction, he recaptured her lips, deepening the ki
ss until their tongues touched. Her hesitation began to fade and he felt the quickening of her breath. The quilted padding of her stays was firm beneath his palm. Because she was traveling, the corset was a lightweight version that ended at her waist. Which meant that when he moved his hand down her body, he felt the ripe curve of her hip and the taut length of her thigh under a mere two layers of fabric.

  She tensed when his hand came to rest on her knee, so he concentrated on learning how sensitive her elegant ear was. Very, as it turned out. As he traced the edge with his tongue, she released her breath in a pleased sigh.

  When his hand glided up her thigh under her skirts, he felt the faintest of tremors go through her, but she didn’t try to stop him. The smoothness of her stocking gave way to the silky warmth of female flesh.

  When they were skin to skin, he again stilled his hand so she had time to get used to where it was placed. Her head fell back, her breasts rising and falling, as he trailed his lips down her throat. He felt the purr of her pleasure under his tongue.

  He slid his hand between her thighs, kneading his way slowly higher. She jerked and gave a sharp gasp when he first touched the hidden heat and moisture at the juncture of her thighs. “Is this unpleasant?” he whispered as he lightly pressed the edge of his hand into the delicate folds. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “Not…unpleasant,” she said unevenly. “Don’t. Stop.”

  “As milady wishes.” He caressed her with increasing depth and intimacy, altering pressure and speed as her breathing grew harsher and her legs separated to allow him greater access. His own breathing was equally harsh as her excitement kindled his.

  She arched her back, eyes closed, and her hips began to rock in a timeless, involuntary rhythm. “Alex…” she said, taut and needy.

  Then she cried out, her nails digging into his arm and back as she convulsed around his right hand. The heat and scents of sexuality nearly overpowered him. More than anything on earth, he wanted to be joined with her, to share that wild pleasure.

  Not yet, not yet. But there was delight and satisfaction in having brought her to this point. Surely the day was coming when he would be able to go the final step, and bury himself inside her.

  She opened dazed eyes. “I didn’t know,” she breathed. “All those lusty women I’ve cared for over the years, and I never really understood what they meant when they talked about how much they desired their men.”

  “This is just one step, Julia.” He kissed her damp forehead. “There are many more.” Her lovely round backside was pressed into his erection, tempting him to the outer limits of his control. He shifted, uncomfortable, but not wanting to distress Julia.

  Even sated with pleasure, she was observant. She slid from his lap onto the sofa beside him, staying under his encircling arm. “I’m sorry. You made me forget about meeting my father, and in return I’m distressing you.”

  He tightened his arm around her shoulders. “The distress is minor compared to the satisfaction of pleasing you.”

  “Nonetheless…” Her eyes narrowed as she studied his taut breeches. Then she drew a deep breath and began to unbutton the fall.

  “Dear God, Julia!” He froze, lightning searing through his veins as her fingers clasped hard, pulsing male flesh. “You…you don’t have to do this.”

  “I know.” Biting her lip, she stood and moved to straddle his lap, her skirts cascading over them both. “That’s why I can.”

  She eased slowly onto him, stopping with a gasp. Before he could react, she said, “I’m all right. It’s just—I’m tight and you’re large.”

  She rolled her hips a little, almost sending him over the edge. His hands clamped on her hips and waves of sensation surged through his body.

  When she began lowering herself again, they slid smoothly together. He was too paralyzed by shock and raging lust to move.

  She leaned forward to press her cheek against his. “That wasn’t so bad.” Her voice was shaky, but determined.

  “Not…not bad at all.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, sure that this intimacy was costing her a great deal. Yet he couldn’t bear for this mind-numbing, guilty ecstasy to end if she chose to pull away.

  For the space of perhaps two dozen heartbeats they held each other, adjusting both physically and mentally to the irrevocable change in their marriage. Then Julia raised her face into a kiss. She filled his senses with touch and taste and scent. His wife, the fulfillment he had longed for and feared he would never find.

  He wanted the moment to last forever, but she rocked against him, murmuring, “I wonder…”

  He was fire and she was tinder as madness seared through him. He shattered, his mind vanquished by sensation.

  The firestorm passed, and every fiber of his body vibrated with scalding awareness. “Dearest God in heaven,” he managed as he crushed her to his chest.

  Julia laughed a little. “I think you’re taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

  “No.” He buried his face in her dark hair. “Prayers come in many forms. You’re the answer to prayers I didn’t know I’d made.”

  “That’s either powerfully romantic or borderline sacrilege.” Julia gently untangled herself so she could stand and pull two towels from the washstand.

  Accepting one, he said, “I didn’t expect this to happen tonight.” He studied her face. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you?” What he really wanted to know was if she was sorry, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  His heart sank when she frowned, but when she spoke, her voice was thoughtful, not distressed. “There was some discomfort, but no more than might be expected.” She cleaned herself, then brushed her skirts down. “I’m glad that’s over. Next time will be easier.”

  It was a crashingly unromantic statement, but at least she was thinking in terms of doing it again. “Next time will also be better,” he promised as he buttoned his breeches.

  “Tonight was already very fine.” She raised her gaze to his and her voice warmed. “You did indeed pleasure me. Even more important, fears that possessed me for too long are gone.”

  That was a good start. Feeling optimistic, he stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against his side in a hug. “Shall I order supper and a bath?”

  “That would be lovely.” She turned her back to him. “Could you unfasten my gown and stays? I’m looking forward to a quiet, relaxed evening with you.” Glancing over her shoulder, she said softly, “Thank you for your kindness, Alex. For your patience.”

  He went to work on the laces. “You’re worth patience, milady.”

  She blushed and ducked her head. Her hair fell away from her nape so he bent and kissed it, overwhelmed by tenderness. She trusted him.

  He felt truly married.

  Chapter 20

  It was nearly dark when the carriage arrived at Ashton House. Julia had forgotten just how large the ducal mansion was. Reading her mind, Randall said, “This sprawling great pile is said to be the largest private home in London, which is why Ash can give me a set of rooms and never even notice.”

  “I shall be glad to stay in one place for several days at a stretch,” Julia said fervently as her husband helped her from the carriage. Well-trained footmen arrived to carry their bags inside.

  Mackenzie climbed from the vehicle to say his good-byes. “Lady Julia, it’s been a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He kissed her hand with a flourish. “Though I’m sadly disappointed that the trip was so uneventful.”

  Her brows arched. “You think a mere single assassination attempt is uneventful, Mr. Mackenzie?”

  “Downright boring,” he agreed. “Trouble is my middle name, you know.”

  Randall laughed and shook Mackenzie’s hand. “Thank you for the escort service, Mac. And for everything else.”

  “It was my pleasure,” the other man said, his voice serious for once. “I owed you a favor or two.”

  Randall said, “In that case, since someone is bound to want to throw
a ball in our honor to reintroduce Lady Julia to society, will you attend if you receive an invitation?”

  “I don’t owe you that large a favor!” Grinning wickedly, Mackenzie swung back into the carriage and signaled for it to set off again.

  Julia took Randall’s arm as they climbed the steps to the front door. “Does Mr. Mackenzie’s birth prevent him from moving in society?”

  “Not really. His father was a lord, he’s acknowledged by Will Masterson and the rest of the family, and he was popular with the other troublesome lordlings at the Westerfield Academy. But he has always preferred to distance himself from the ton.” Randall made a face. “I did the same, but that is no longer possible.”

  “You were a serving officer, which is the best of excuses for avoiding Almack’s.” She glanced up at his profile. Her handsome husband, whose intimidating exterior concealed remarkable kindness and patience. “A good part of the reason for coming to London is to return me to society, but that will mean you have to attend balls and routs as well. Will you hate it too much?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted as the doors swung open before them. “I’ve never spent much time moving in such circles. In moderate amounts, the social routine might be amusing. Have you been yearning for the delights of the beau monde?”

  “Since I went into an arranged marriage when I was young and then I was isolated in the country, I have no idea if I’ll enjoy the ton. If I do, I’ll probably prefer moderation, as you do.” Her hand tightened on his arm. “It’s fortunate that we’re here at the start of the autumn social season. The spring season might be too much for me.”

  The butler approached with the faint smile that meant gushing good humor by his standards. “Major Randall, Mrs. Bancroft, how good to see you again. The duke and duchess are dining in tonight. I shall inform them of your arrival.”

  “Don’t interrupt them if they’re eating, Holmes,” Randall said. “After dinner is soon enough.”

  “It would be worth my job if I didn’t inform them of your arrival immediately,” Holmes said, his expression stern.

 

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