An Independent Woman

by Candace Camp

  He pulled one of the covers from the furniture and laid it out on the floor, then pulled her down onto it with him. Stretched out beside her, he took his time kissing and caressing her, extending her pleasure until she thought she would shatter.

  Then, at last, he moved between her legs and slowly entered her. She gasped at the flash of pain, and he paused, looking down at her. She smiled at him and pulled his head down to her so she could kiss him, and he slid into her welcoming body.

  Slowly, carefully, he began to move within her. Juliana wrapped her arms around him, her hands digging into his bare back, as he thrust in and pulled back in a building rhythm. He drove them onward, passion rising with each movement, moving faster and faster, racing toward some elusive something that seemed to dangle just beyond their reach. Juliana’s breath rasped in her throat, and her whole body was taut with tension—eager, waiting, wanting.

  Then, at last, he cried out, shuddering, and desire exploded in Juliana, sending long waves of pleasure thrumming throughout her body. With a soft groan, Nicholas collapsed against her.

  Juliana closed her eyes, savoring the moment. Her hand slid over his back, damp with sweat. He did not love her, she knew. A part of her was afraid he might never love her. She was well aware that what had happened between them had sprung from desire on his part, not love.

  But, she thought as she held him, for right now, this was enough.

  JULIANA WENT THROUGH the rest of the day in a haze of happiness, a happiness made even more complete that night when Nicholas opened the door between their rooms and took her in his arms. They made love, and she was delighted when he did not leave her afterwards but held her in his arms throughout the night, waking in the morning to make love again.

  He left her sleeping, and, somewhat to her embarrassment, she slept until long past breakfast. She blushed when her maid entered the room, smiling happily and a little knowingly at Juliana, with a tray of tea and toast for her. But her inner joy was too much to be dented by a little embarrassment, and she hummed as she bathed in the slipper tub and dressed in the morning dress that Celia got out for her.

  The dress was high-necked, she noticed, and covered up the red patch on her lower neck where Nicholas’s morning stubble had scraped her delicate skin. Celia, she thought, was both sharp-eyed and discreet.

  Later, bathed and dressed, she made her way downstairs to the drawing room, schooling her expression into one that was more suitably grave for a house in mourning. She found Seraphina and Lilith there before her. Lilith was stitching on something in her lap, Juliana saw, and Seraphina was staring out the window, looking bored.

  She looked up with a smile when Juliana came in. “Oh, good. I was hoping for a distraction. Winnie has gone for a walk and left me here with nothing to do.”

  Lilith looked up at her daughter, sent a fleeting glance at Juliana and returned to her work. Clearly she was not interested in alleviating her daughter’s boredom.

  “What would you like to do?” Juliana asked amiably. She started to suggest that they play cards, then realized that was hardly an appropriate thing to offer Seraphina, given her predilection for gambling.

  “Anything,” Seraphina replied. “I was almost ready to go join Winnie in the garden.”

  Juliana knew that a number of letters of condolence had arrived, and needed to be read and answered, but she was equally sure that this task would not be one Seraphina wanted any part in.

  “Perhaps we could go out to the garden, and cut some of the flowers and fill the vases.”

  Seraphina wrinkled her nose at that idea. “I will leave that to you and Winnie. Life in the country is so deadly dull. Even the entertainments are dull.”

  “Really, Seraphina,” Lilith said sharply, raising her head to fix her daughter with a cold blue gaze. “I don’t expect Juliana to mourn your brother. It doesn’t surprise me that she should think it is all right to bedeck the house with flowers, even though he was buried only two days ago. But I would think that you, at least, could show some spark of respect.”

  “Sorry, Mother.” Seraphina looked chastened at her mother’s rebuke.

  “So am I,” Juliana said quickly. “I did not think. We won’t put out any flowers.”

  “Do what you will,” Lilith replied coolly. “It is, after all, your house now.”

  Juliana suppressed a sigh. Clearly grief had not made Lilith forget about her other grievances.

  At that moment there was a crash in the hall outside, and Juliana jumped to her feet, hurrying over to the door. There she found a young woman on her knees, picking up the pieces of a vase. The girl glanced up over her shoulder at Juliana. Tears sparkled in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, miss…. I didn’t mean to—it was an accident.”

  “You are speaking to Lady Barre,” Lilith said crisply from behind Juliana. “You do not address her as ‘miss.’”

  The girl’s face flamed with embarrassment, and she jumped to her feet, bobbing a curtsey to them. “I’m ever so sorry, m—my lady. I meant no disrespect. I’m new. I’ll clean it up ever so quick.” She turned a frightened, pleading look on Juliana.

  Juliana felt sure that the girl was scared of losing her new job, and she said kindly, “It’s all right. Just get a broom and sweep it up.”

  Lilith turned toward Juliana, one brow rising in a disapproving way. “You have taken on new staff, Juliana?”

  “No. I mean, I assume the housekeeper must have. She didn’t say anything to me about it.”

  Lilith’s silent look was eloquent. She clearly found Juliana’s control of the household lacking.

  The maid, who had turned away, turned back, saying, “Mrs. Pettibone just took me on this morning. She had to get a maid fast-like, ’cause one of the others quit.”

  Surprised, Juliana asked, “Who?”

  “I’m not sure, mi—my lady,” the girl answered. “But it was real sudden, she said.”

  “Much as you might like to hang about in the hallway, gossiping with the servants, Juliana,” Lilith said, “I think you ought to let the girl get about doing her job.”

  The maid turned and fled at Lilith’s remarks. Color rose in Juliana’s cheeks, and her fingers curled into her palms. She would have liked to snap back at Lilith that none of this was any of her business now, but she kept a tight rein on her irritation. The woman had, after all, just lost her son only a few days earlier. She could scarcely take her to task over her biting words.

  “If you will excuse me,” Juliana said with all the calm she could muster, “I will go to speak to Mrs. Pettibone.”

  “Why don’t you?” Lilith replied sourly, turning and going back into the drawing room.

  Seraphina, who had been standing behind them throughout the foregoing scene, gave Juliana a small, embarrassed smile and a shrug of her shoulders, then turned and followed her mother back into the drawing room.

  Juliana strode off down the hallway toward the kitchen area. She trusted Mrs. Pettibone’s competence and did not really care that the housekeeper had hired a new maid without talking it over with her, but she did not think she could go back into the drawing room and make polite chitchat any longer with Lilith, so she seized on the excuse to leave.

  She found the housekeeper in the hallway outside the kitchens, scowling at the young maid who had knocked over the vase. When Mrs. Pettibone saw Juliana coming toward them, she looked chagrined and quickly dismissed the girl.

  “My lady,” Mrs. Pettibone said. “Please forgive me for not consulting you about hiring the new maid.” She cast a critical look down the hall after the girl. “I fear she may not be experienced enough. But I had so little time.”

  “What happened?” Juliana asked. “The girl said that one of the maids left abruptly?”

  Mrs. Pettibone nodded, leading Juliana back through the hallway into her small personal sitting room. “May I get you some tea, my lady?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Juliana realized that the prospect of sitting down for a cup of tea and a
chat with the housekeeper was far more appealing than trying to talk to Lilith.

  Mrs. Pettibone opened the door and cracked out an order for the tea, then returned, sitting down at Juliana’s nod. “I must apologize, my lady. Everything’s been at sixes and sevens this week, what with the constable coming and going, asking the servants all sorts of questions. And then Annie Sawyer left, the silly girl. Said she was frightened of being in this house and went back home.”

  “Oh, yes.” Juliana remembered the maid who had appeared shaken and scared at breakfast the morning after Crandall’s murder. “Well, a murder in the house is enough to upset anyone, I suppose.”

  Mrs. Pettibone sniffed, obviously unimpressed. “I don’t know what she thought she had to be scared of. It isn’t like there is a madman loose in the countryside, going about chopping up whoever he meets, is it?”

  “No,” Juliana agreed. “I would think that the killer was interested only in harming Crandall.”

  “And there was plenty as disliked him, Lord knows.” The housekeeper stopped, looking aghast as she realized how much of her own feelings for the man she had just expressed. “I’m sorry, my lady. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why not?” Juliana replied. “It’s certainly true. There’s little use in pretending that Crandall was a popular man.”

  Mrs. Pettibone sighed. “Sad to say. The constable keeps asking about the blacksmith.” Her grimace revealed her opinion of that line of questioning. “As if Farrow would sneak up on a man like that. I told the constable, there’s a good number of folks wished that man dead and he’d be better looking elsewhere.” She shrugged. “Ah, well, I’m sure that’s not what you came here for. It’s about Cora’s knocking over that vase this morning, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I’ll see to it that she’s punished. And it won’t happen again. I’ve put Cora to cleaning floors, where she can’t hurt anything.”

  “I’m sure Cora is just nervous,” Juliana said reassuringly. “No doubt she will improve as she gets used to it.”

  “Aye, she will,” Mrs. Pettibone agreed grimly, her expression promising little hope for poor Cora if she did not.

  Juliana stayed for a while longer with the housekeeper, having a cup of tea and talking over a few household matters, making sure that Mrs. Pettibone’s feathers were soothed over the matter of the new maid. Then she bade goodbye to the woman and started back to the main part of the house.

  She thought with some reluctance that she should return to the drawing room. As she was lady of the house, Lilith and Seraphina were, to some extent at least, her responsibility. There was little chance of lifting Lilith’s mood, of course, but she might perhaps find something to relieve some of Seraphina’s boredom.

  However, as she turned the corner into the main hall, she met Nicholas walking toward her, and all thoughts of Seraphina and Lilith fled. He smiled, and she felt her heart lifting inside her chest as if it might take flight.

  “Nicholas.”

  “Juliana.” He came to her, reaching out to take both her hands, smiling down into her face in such a way that she felt almost giddy with happiness. “I was looking for you.”

  “I have been talking to Mrs. Pettibone about one of the servants.”

  “I wanted to ask you to go for a ride with me.” He leaned in a little closer, his voice lowering as he continued. “I want to be alone with you.”

  Juliana could not keep from smiling back at him with just a hint of flirtatiousness, her eyes sparkling. “Indeed?”

  “Indeed.” His eyes returned her dancing look. “I have sent word to the stables to saddle our horses. And to Cook to pack a picnic luncheon for us.”

  The idea sounded perfectly delightful, Juliana thought, and she agreed readily, saying, “I shall go upstairs and change.”

  “All right.” However, he did not let go of her hands, but pulled her even a little closer, bending down to murmur, “Perhaps I should help you.”

  His eyes darkened, the meaning in them clear, and Juliana’s breath hitched a little. “My lord, I think ’twould take much too long if you did that.”

  He grinned. “Perhaps you are right. We might wind up not leaving your room at all.”

  He pressed his lips to the top of her head, then to her forehead, lowering them finally to brush across her lips. Juliana’s heart fluttered wildly in her chest, and she wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him wantonly right there in the central hall. Had he taken her into his arms right then, she rather suspected that she would have.

  But he moved back, raising her hand to his mouth to kiss it, and then let her go. He nodded toward the stairs. “You had better go now, or we shall never get started.”

  Juliana nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and hurried up the staircase to her room.

  A HALF HOUR LATER, she and Nicholas were riding out across the estate, heading this time not toward the village but away from it, crossing the meadow beyond the gardens and orchards. The air smelled of new-mown hay, and the sun lay warm on her shoulders.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, although she really did not care, as long as she was with Nicholas.

  “There is an abandoned mill not far from here,” he replied. “It’s in ruins, but a very scenic spot. I thought it would be a nice place to sit and watch the river.”

  Juliana smiled at him. It sounded perfect. “I think I remember it now. We used to explore around there. It seemed very exotic and exciting.”

  She had not gone there after Nicholas had left, and it had gradually faded into the back of her memory. But she could remember now the moss-covered gray stone walls and the high water wheel.

  They passed several of their tenants’ farms, and children came out to wave at them. At one or two houses, the wife of the tenant also emerged. Nicholas, she noted, had come prepared for their greetings, for he reached into his pocket and withdrew wrapped pieces of candy, which he tossed to the children. They stopped and talked to the adults, and Nicholas introduced her to the women, who beamed and curtseyed to her.

  “I remember you when you were this high,” one of them told her, a sturdy woman with dark hair liberally streaked with gray. She held up her hand about the level of her own waist. “The two of you, running down to the river to fish.”

  Juliana smiled. She had not cared whether they fished. She had been happy just to be with Nicholas then, too. “Yes, I remember.”

  Beyond that farm, the lane narrowed into a track as they entered the woods. They emerged from the trees and stopped, looking down at the scene before them. The river lay below them, narrowing here, the gray-green water that had moved so lazily upriver tumbling faster here. The old mill was there, shrubbery having grown up around much of it. Juliana looked at the tall wooden water wheel; then her gaze moved on to the gray stone walls of the mill.

  Nicholas dismounted and came round to help her down. The path down to the mill was twisting and rocky, and it was easier to walk their horses down it. As they turned to start down the path, Juliana caught a flash of movement at the door of the mill, and she stopped, her hand going out to catch Nicholas’s arm.

  He turned to look in the direction in which she was staring. A person was coming out of the mill, turning back to talk to someone. It was a woman in a dark riding habit, and she carried a hat in her hand. Even in the shade cast by the mill, her hair was a light golden-blond.

  It was Winifred. She stepped away from the door, and the person to whom she was talking emerged from the mill. It was a man, his dark-blond head bent to listen to what she said.

  Juliana sucked in a surprised breath, and Nicholas stiffened. Quickly he stepped back into the shade of the trees, taking Juliana and their horses with him. They stood, hidden by the overhanging trees, watching the scene before them unfold.

  Winifred and the man paused, talking to one another. Winifred’s pale face was turned up to him. Finally he bent and kissed her, a long, slow kiss that left little doubt as to the relationship between them. Then they turned and walked around
the corner of the building, heading toward the trees behind it.

  Juliana looked at Nicholas, not knowing what to say.

  “I think it would be best if we picnicked elsewhere,” he said mildly, taking her hand and walking through the trees, heading upriver.

  They said nothing as they went, emerging finally some distance upriver. The river had curved a little, and trees grew down to the rocks beside it, so the mill was hidden from their sight. Nicholas found a cozy little nook beside the water, a small bit of land sheltered by trees and shrubs and two large rocks.

  He spread out the blanket across the dirt, and they sat down on it with their picnic basket. For a moment they said nothing, just looking at the peacefully flowing river.

  Finally Juliana turned to Nicholas. “Do you know that man?”

  He nodded. “It looked like Sam Morely. He’s one of my tenants…a hardworking, honest sort, as far as I have heard.”

  “I don’t suppose there is any way that what we saw was not a…”

  “Tryst?” Nicholas finished. “I don’t see how. It seemed fairly clear why they were there.”

  “I know it’s wrong,” Juliana said. “Still, I find it difficult to blame Winnie. Crandall was a dreadful husband, and he made her miserable.”

  “I’m sure he did. That seems to have been his main talent in life,” Nicholas said dryly. “But we cannot ignore the possibilities that this opens up.”

  “It gives Winifred even more reason to want to get rid of Crandall,” Juliana agreed.

  “And it gives us another suspect,” Nicholas pointed out. “I have a little trouble envisioning Winifred, however much she hated him, bashing in Crandall’s head with a poker.”

  “But a man who loved Crandall’s wife, who wanted to save her from him, wanted even to marry her, could have struck such a blow,” Juliana said, finishing his thought. “Yes, you’re right. Was he there that night? Did you see him?”

  “Yes. He shook my hand and congratulated me. You saw him, but perhaps you don’t remember.”