by Connie Mason
Lord Randall had recruited Julian as an undercover agent ten years ago. At the time the excitement of undercover work appealed to him. But look what it had gotten him. The deaths of two innocent people. After those senseless deaths, Julian had made a solemn vow to himself. Once he ran Diana’s killer to ground, he would never again place the lives of those he loved in danger.
Julian dressed carefully for his visit to Stanhope Hall the following day. He looked every bit the elegant lord in buff breeches and coat, snowy white linen shirt, and polished Hessians. The carriage was waiting for him outside the door when he left the house precisely at one forty-five. He drove the matched grays himself, threading the ribbons between his fingers with practiced ease. At exactly two o’clock he turned up the circular driveway of Stanhope Hall. Another carriage was parked before the door, and Julian scowled. He hoped it wasn’t one of those young puppies who had made disparaging remarks about Lara’s heritage.
Julian rapped on the door with his walking stick and was promptly shown into the drawing room by the imperturbable butler. Lara was sitting on a sofa, perusing a book. She looked up when he entered, barely concealing her displeasure. He studied her through lowered lids. She looked tired, he thought. Mauve shadows marred the fragile skin beneath her eyes, and there was a tightness about her mouth that hadn’t been there before.
Julian glanced about the room, pleased that he was the only caller. The other carriage must belong to someone visiting Lord Stanhope, he decided.
“I brought my carriage, Lady Lara,” Julian said. “You look tired. A drive in the park is just what you need. Will you join me?”
A fringe of long, dark lashes made it difficult to read her mood. Truth to tell, she appeared none too pleased to see him.
“I have no intention of going anywhere with you, Lord Mansfield,” Lara said coolly.
“Lara, did I just hear you dismiss Mansfield?” Lord Stanhope asked. Apparently he had entered the room in time to hear Lara’s reply to Julian’s invitation. “You’re being exceptionally rude, my dear. Are you ill?”
“I’m fine, Papa, really,” Lara said. “I’m just not inclined toward a ride in the park today.”
“Nonsense, Lara. I gave Mansfield permission to call on you. The least you can do is take that ride he offered. ’Tis a beautiful day. The air will do you good. Get your wrap while I have a word with Mansfield.”
Lara sent Julian a resentful glare and left the room. Lord Stanhope stared after her, a puzzled expression darkening his pleasant features.
“I don’t know what’s got into the gel, Mansfield. She seems to have taken a dislike to you.”
“So it would seem,” Julian drawled.
“I’m worried about Lara,” Stanhope confided. “I love her dearly, Mansfield, but I’m not blind. I saw how the ton treated her last night. She’s too different, not English enough to gain their approval. Men, bah, they don’t recognize a jewel when they see one. They can’t see past her golden skin and exotic eyes.”
“Someone is sure to see her worth,” Julian ventured.
“I was pleased when you asked permission to call on her. You’re the only one, you know. The others coveted her, but had nothing respectable in mind.”
“I’m sure you’re imagining things, Stanhope,” Julian bluffed. If any man showed disrespect to Lara in his presence, or made untoward advances, he’d skin him alive.
“Time will tell.” Stanhope sighed. “I must get back to my guest now. I left him when Simms informed me you had arrived. Government business, you know.”
Julian’s interest sharpened, but he was disappointed when Stanhope said nothing more. Stanhope wasn’t particularly close to Randall so Julian had no reason to be suspicious, though Stanhope was a powerful man in Parliament.
“Of course,” Julian said smoothly. “I’ll wait here for Lady Lara. I won’t keep her out long.”
Stanhope quit the room. Julian moved closer to the door and surreptitiously watched him enter a room halfway down the corridor. Lara still hadn’t come downstairs, and no servants were nearby. Throwing caution to the wind, Julian crept down the passage and halted before the door Stanhope had just gone through.
Voices drifted to him through the panel. They were muffled, but loud enough for Julian to make out. Stanhope was speaking.
“The Scorpion, you say? He cannot be allowed to …” The last words were lost to Julian as Stanhope’s voice lowered. He picked up the conversation when Stanhope’s voice grew louder. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. We can’t let a dangerous man like that roam the streets.”
Another voice answered, too low and strident for Julian to recognize, and he dare not linger. Was Stanhope involved with the smugglers? It certainly seemed that way. But he mustn’t jump to conclusions. He’d have to wait and watch how this played out. He hurried back to the drawing room, arriving seconds before Lara returned with her wrap.
Julian took the cape from her and placed it around her shoulders.
“Where’s Papa?” Lara asked.
“He returned to his study. He has a visitor. Did you happen to see who it was?” Julian asked casually.
“No, I was upstairs when he arrived.” She sent Julian a sharp look. “Why? What are you up to, my lord? More secret business? Leave Papa out of it.”
“You misjudge me, Lara,” Julian replied in an effort to allay her suspicious nature. “Shall we go?”
“I really don’t want to go anywhere with you, my lord, but if you insist, I suppose I can survive a drive in the park in your company.”
Julian handed her into the carriage and climbed into the driver’s seat beside her. A slap of the reins and they were off.
“There is no reason for this coldness between us,” Julian said as Lara stared stonily ahead.
Lara’s dark gaze knifed into him. “Is there not? You left me, my lord. You insulted me horribly. You thought yourself too good for a Gypsy wench.”
Julian had the grace to flush. “You could have told me the truth. What else was I to think?”
“You could have believed me. You could have told me you were an earl. I deserve an apology.”
Julian gritted his teeth. She did indeed deserve an apology. “I’m sorry, Lara. Forgive my bad manners. I jumped to conclusions.”
“It’s not that easy, my lord,” Lara replied curtly. “Perhaps in time. Tell me, why all the secrecy? Who is trying to kill you?”
Maybe your father. “There are things I cannot tell anyone, not even my family.”
Lara gave a brittle laugh. “I gave you my love, my innocence, my heart. You took them and gave nothing of yourself in return, save for empty passion.”
“Not empty passion, Lara. Never that. You’re the only woman who …” His words fell off. Now was not the time to make declarations, not when his own feelings were confused. He did know his duty, though.
“No lies, Drago. You abandoned me. What if I’m carrying your child? Did you ever think of that?”
Julian started violently. “God’s blood! I never considered that.” He searched her face. “Are you expecting my child?”
“No, thank God. Would it have made a difference? No, don’t answer. I know it would not. Earls marry from their own ranks.”
“Things have changed,” Julian began. “I’m an honorable man, whether you believe me or not. I’ve compromised an earl’s daughter and now I must make amends.”
Lara’s eyes widened. “I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are. You didn’t want a wife then, why do you want one now?”
“I told you. I thought you were—”
“—a Gypsy, I know. The color of my skin hasn’t changed, nor has the shape of my eyes.”
“Let me be the judge of what’s best for you,” Julian advised.
“You presume too much, Drago. My destiny is mine to fulfill. You still love your dead fiancée. I won’t take second place in your heart.”
Julian’s expression hardened as he turned the carriage into the park. “W
ill you just listen to me?”
“No. Unless you wish to tell me how and why you ended up in Pietro’s camp with two bullets in you.”
“ ’Tis a long story.”
“I have time.”
“Anything I tell you will put your life at risk. I have many guises. I’m the Earl of Mansfield, of course, but I also work for the government. I was on an important mission. A traitor I have yet to identify recognized me. Attempts have been made on my life before, and one of them ended in Diana’s death.” He paused, looking off into the distance. “Diana was carrying my child when she died. I won’t rest until I find the man responsible.”
The sharp intake of her breath told Julian his revelation had shocked her. “So I was right. You are a government agent.”
“Aye, and a damn good one, until someone discovered my identity.”
“I’m sorry about Diana and … and your child, but getting yourself killed won’t bring them back. What has the traitor done?”
“I can’t say. ’Tis best you forget I ever mentioned it. I will never speak of it again during our courtship.”
A weighted pause. “Our what?”
“I intend to court you in a timely manner and marry you in a ceremony grand enough to satisfy the ton.”
“I thought we already were married.”
“That marriage wasn’t legal,” Julian countered. What did she want from him? He had offered for her, done what society demanded of him. He had ruined her and was willing to right the wrong he had done her.
“Good,” Lara blasted, “because I don’t want to be married to you. You have too many secrets, too much pain, too much anger inside you to give me the love I deserve. You have room in your heart for nothing but revenge. I’m sorry, my lord. I can’t live without love.”
Julian grimaced. “Why is love so important? You’ll have respect, my name, everything within my power to grant you. We’ll always have passion, no one can take that away from us. Let it go, Lara.”
“I can’t let it go. Until you tell me you love me, don’t mention marriage again.”
Chapter 9
The drive in the park hadn’t turned out exactly as Julian had hoped. Lara remained stubbornly resistant to his courtship. Her position on love had made it impossible for him to convince her that marrying him was necessary, whether she liked it or not. He had even reminded her that his proposal was likely to be the only one she would get, but that had only made her more adamantly opposed to the match.
Julian drove purposely slow through the park so anyone out and about could see them and draw their own conclusions. People on horseback and in carriages stopped and ogled them, a few drawing abreast for a word with Julian. One of the men who stopped to chat was Clay Merritt, Earl of Tolliver, one of Randall’s confidants. When Julian had questioned Tolliver’s loyalty, Randall had assured Julian that Tolliver had no knowledge of Scorpion’s identity. That was a secret only Randall and Julian shared.
“Lord Mansfield,” Tolliver greeted affably. “You’ve been missed in London. Business abroad?”
“You could say that,” Julian replied. “Have you met Lady Lara?”
“Lord Stanhope’s daughter, is it not?” Tolliver purred, smiling at Lara. “Indeed, we chatted at the ball last evening, though I doubt you remember me with the crush of people vying for your attention. But we actually met briefly before that at your home, when I had occasion to visit your father.”
“Of course I remember, my lord,” Lara said. “How nice to see you again.”
Julian scowled. For some unexplained reason Tolliver rubbed him the wrong way. He was personable enough, but the man’s narrow face, sharp chin, and intense brown eyes reminded Julian of a ferret. He was of medium build and always dressed in the height of fashion. Julian and Tolliver were acquainted socially, but not professionally.
A sudden suspicion made Julian view Tolliver in a new light. Tolliver was close to Randall and could be the elusive Jackal. Tolliver, however, gave no indication that he was aware of Julian’s secret investigation.
“Enjoy your ride,” Tolliver said as he took his leave.
Julian stared after him, his mind working furiously. “Is Tolliver a frequent visitor at your home?” he asked as he set the horses into motion.
Lara’s brow furrowed. “I’ve seen him a time or two when he called on Papa. He and Papa are sponsoring a bill together in Parliament, I believe, and confer together often. But so is Viscount Dunbar a frequent visitor.”
Viscount Dunbar was another of Randall’s confidants, Julian reflected. Of the three men, Dunbar, Tolliver and Stanhope, was one of them a traitor? Were all three traitors? One way or another, Julian intended to find out. What worried him was Lara’s proximity to men who might pose a danger to her. He didn’t like to think what might happen to her if she was recognized as the Gypsy girl from Pietro’s camp. Lara’s life could be in danger simply because she had helped him.
“What are you thinking, my lord?” Lara asked when the silence became oppressive. “You’re becoming secretive again.”
“My name is Julian, Lara. I think we know one another well enough to use first names. After all, you’re going to be my wife soon.” He had to get her out of the intolerable situation in which she existed so he could protect her. At this point, even her father was suspect.
Lara gave Julian a wistful smile. “I knew Drago, but the Earl of Mansfield is a stranger to me.”
Lara suddenly became aware that Julian had turned down a deserted path. The clatter of carriage wheels other than their own could no longer be heard. Trees grew thick and dense on either side of the path, creating a canopy that nearly blotted out the sun.
“Where are we?” Lara asked.
“Still in the park but on a little used path,” Julian replied as he guided the carriage off the path and behind a stand of dense bushes that concealed them from passersby.
Her heart thudded against her ribcage. “Why are we stopping?”
“So I can do this,” Julian said, roughly pulling her against him. “And this,” he continued, clamping his mouth over hers and stealing her breath as surely as he was depriving her of her will.
He kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She breathed in his essence. His scent stirred her senses and sent them reeling. Then it happened. She returned his kiss with a sense of euphoric desperation, igniting something hot and deliciously wicked deep inside her. She clutched his shoulders, arching against him. She felt her will evaporating, until memories too painful to visit, dreams too shattered to be resurrected, brought her back to reality.
Julian hadn’t wanted her when he thought she was a Gypsy and he didn’t deserve her now. He didn’t love her. Strong feelings for his dead fiancée still haunted him. Lust wasn’t enough for her. She wanted it all, and Julian wasn’t prepared to give her what she needed.
Wresting herself from his arms, she held him at bay. “Stop, Julian. Why are you doing this?”
“Is it not obvious? There is something explosive between us that defies reason.”
“Lust,” Lara said in a voice ripe with disgust.
“Aye, there is that.”
“ ’Tis not enough, my lord. Take me home.”
He brought her back into his arms. “I’ve declared myself, Lara. I wish to marry you. Why are you resisting?”
“I do not wish to marry you … again,” she added meaningfully.
“I dishonored you. You’re an earl’s daughter and I intend to make amends. I want to protect you.”
There was a sarcastic edge to her words. “How good of you. Forget it, my lord. I don’t need protection.”
“Tell me you don’t need this,” Julian growled as he held her chin between his palms and lifted her mouth to his.
Don’t let him do this to you! her mind screamed. But then she felt herself melting against him, taking the heady taste of him deep into her mouth, writhing beneath his hands as they roamed freely over her body. What made her love this particular man? sh
e wondered despondently. Why did every other man seem weak and insubstantial compared to Julian?
She felt his hands on her back; his warm palms trailed a line of fire down her spine. She groaned a desperate sigh, the beloved familiarity of his touch shattering her willpower. Then she felt a rush of air against her chest and realized that he had unfastened her bodice, baring her breasts. His mouth went unerringly to her nipple as his hands lifted them from the confines of her corset. She tried to push him away but her resistance fled as he licked and sucked the taut buds, moving easily from one to the other.
Lara scarcely had time to catch her breath when she became aware of a new sensation. Excitement raced through her. Julian had lifted the hem of her skirt and was skimming his hand along the insides of her legs. Deliberately she pressed her thighs together, but he merely chuckled and continued past the meager barrier. Then his hand was there, where she ached for his touch, his fingers dancing upon her heated center.
“My lord!”
“Julian.”
“Julian, please.”
“You’re wet and hot for me, Lara. You were always hot for me, weren’t you, sweeting? Even when you were innocent of a man’s touch you wanted me, just as I wanted you.”
“Julian, I … can’t …”
“You can. For me, love. Come.” He pushed a finger inside her, working it in and out.
He groaned and grasped her hand, placing it on his erection. “Feel what you do to me? Oh God, I have to have you. I’ve never been like this with a woman before. I’ve always prided myself for my restraint, but you put my control to shame.”
Julian’s words barely registered as tremors shook Lara’s body. All her sensory organs were centered on his hand and the torment his talented fingers were putting her through. The tremors began deep inside her, traveling outward, making her skin tingle and the flesh beneath burn with incandescent fire. Needing something substantial to hang on to, she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Then the world shattered around her.
