by Joanna Shupe
Lady Lambert’s jaw snapped shut. He had a blessed moment of silence before she blurted, “Your wife is quite lovely. She and I have become fast friends.”
“Have you?”
“Indeed. She is smart and—”
“Why have you stayed, Lady Lambert?” he cut in to ask. Her eyes widened in surprise but he pressed on. “Why did you cozy up to the dowager duchess for all those years? Why have you not moved back home with your family?”
She squared her shoulders. “I have no family. There is nowhere for me to go. Your mother was my family for the last eight years.”
“Then allow me to give you a settlement. You can have the dower house. Take your pick of the cottages. Go and buy a town house in London and send me the bill.”
“Are you forcing me to leave, Your Grace?”
“Do not put me in that position. I would rather not force you to leave, but I cannot understand your insistence on remaining here.” He tapped Charon’s sides, and the horse cantered ahead of the others.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the spot where Julia fell. Nick dismounted, throwing the reins over a low branch. The area around the path was dense with foliage and there was a steep embankment on one side.
“Her foot caught on that root there,” Lady Lambert said, pointing. “It was quite misty that morning, and I fear she slipped in trying to regain her balance.”
Nick nodded. He wanted to investigate but didn’t need her incessant chattering to do it. “Thank you for your assistance this morning, madam. Would you like Fitz to escort you back to the house?”
Something flashed in her eyes, likely surprise at being dismissed, he thought. “No, that is unnecessary. I am able to find my way back. Good day, Your Grace.”
Turning her horse, she cantered away. When she was out of earshot, Fitz smiled and imitated in a high voice, “‘And I hope one day we can be friends.’”
“Bugger off, Fitz,” Nick growled. “And get off that damned horse and come down here.”
Chuckling, Fitz swung his long leg over the hunter and jumped to the ground. “What are we lookin’ for, then?”
“I do not know. Nevertheless, something feels strange about it. She trips and goes tumbling off down the side of a hill? Perhaps she is clumsy now that she is . . .”
“With child?” Fitz finally filled in, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. “Can you not even be sayin’ it?”
“I can say it,” Nick shot back. He stomped over to the root, moved it with his toe. “Seems rather loose, wouldn’t you say?”
“More like a rope than a root.” Fitz lifted it easily as Nick moved toward the embankment. Fitz pulled on the thick root until he held the end in his hand. “Look at this,” Fitz called.
Nick hurried back to where Fitz stood. “Don’t it seem as if somethin’ has been tied to this end? Perhaps a rope?”
Nick wasn’t sure. The end crimped at odd angles, suggesting it had been wrapped around something else. But that something else could have been another root. “See if you can find what it may have been tied to.” Fitz nodded and headed off to the other side of the path, into the trees.
At the embankment, Nick glanced around at the mass of leaves on the ground. There were a lot of them and Lady Lambert had said it was misty that morning. He skated his boot over the leaves to test their slipperiness. Hmmm. . . .
He peered over the side. Stepping gingerly, he made his way down the slope, holding on to tree trunks and branches to keep from falling. When he neared the bottom, he could see the path in the leaves where Julia’s body had slid to a stop. It made his blood turn cold.
Jesus, had she rolled all the way down there? It was a bloody miracle she hadn’t broken her neck.
He climbed back up and found Fitz waiting for him. “Well?”
“Ground’s too wet to hold footprints, if there ever were any. Might be some rope marks against a far tree, but they’re too faint to know for sure.”
“Damn,” Nick muttered. “I had hoped we would learn one way or the other.”
Fitz grabbed the reins of his hunter. “Still want me to stay when you return to Town?”
“Yes.” Nick didn’t have any evidence, but something about the fall seemed off. And even though he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t like leaving Julia unprotected. The idea of something happening to her . . .
He pushed those thoughts from his mind and swung onto Charon’s back. The big stallion shifted and pranced under the additional weight and Nick tightened his hold on the reins. “Do not let my wife out of your sight. Stay with her, Fitz. Meals, walks, tea . . . whatever it is she chooses to do with her time.”
“Of course, although it would be better if you—”
“Do not say it,” Nick growled, and kicked his boot heels into Charon’s sides.
Julia didn’t see her husband for three days. She knew he was still about, however, because she heard his footsteps in the adjoining chamber each night as he came to bed. That she actually looked forward to any sign of his presence said quite a bit about the tedium of her days.
Theo also kept her updated regarding the duke’s whereabouts. Not surprisingly, he spent most of his time on horseback with Fitz in tow. Dinners were apparently awkward affairs, with Nick, Theo, and Angela having exhausted every available topic of conversation on the first evening.
Tonight, she decided to join them. Her ankle felt remarkably better, and the idea of spending one more day in bed was too much for her to take.
Julia rang for Meg and tried not to think about why Nick had stayed away the past few days. Since that first night, he hadn’t visited her or checked on her at all. Was he awaiting news on whether she miscarried or not?
Well, she thought with a stubborn lift of her chin, he would be disappointed. According to the midwife today, all was well with the babe. It had been a relief to hear. In fact, both Julia and Theo had cried tears of joy at the news.
Meg came in and the two of them discussed what to wear to dinner. “You still have one or two of those gowns from Venice that should fit for another week or so,” Meg suggested. “That’ll get His Grace’s attention.”
“I’m not so certain I want his attention,” Julia mumbled. She was still angry and hurt. He’d said such hateful things, so quick to believe the worst of her.
Not that Meg would know that. But servants talked, and Meg was obviously aware that the duke and duchess had not spent time together since his arrival.
“Let’s do the rose gown, Your Grace. I’ll fetch it straightaway.”
Nearly an hour later, Julia viewed herself in the mirror. “Well, Meg. What do you think?”
“I think you’ll knock His Grace on his arse, if Your Grace don’t mind me sayin’ so.”
Julia chuckled. She’d had to forgo stays to get in the thing, but the result was worth it. The rose silk hugged her torso, the low bodice thrusting her breasts high and out. The whisper-soft fabric fell gracefully to the floor, skimming her thighs and calves over her lightest petticoat. The cap sleeves accentuated her shoulders and neck, the color of the gown highlighting the creaminess of her skin.
Too bad she’d sold her grandmother’s pearls.
“That was the gong. Your Grace had best hurry.”
“On a sore ankle? I’ll be lucky if I make it there before dessert,” Julia scoffed. “Wish me luck, Meg.”
“That dress is all the luck Your Grace needs.”
Julia laughed and began a slow descent to the first floor. By the time she reached the dining room, everyone had started the first course. They all stood and rushed forward to help her, and she was surprised to see Nick arrive first.
“My dear,” Theo greeted as Julia took her husband’s arm. He was warm and strong under her hand and her stomach fluttered. “Are you certain you should be out of bed?”
“I’m fine, Aunt Theo.” Nick began to walk to the other end of the table, to her customary seat. “Colton, pray don’t make me walk all the way down there. If you don’t mind, I shall j
ust sit here on the end, next to you.”
She saw his eyes dart to her neckline and he cleared his throat. “Whatever you wish, madam.”
Chapter Twelve
Men do not share their feelings as we would expect. In fact, you may discover more from what he does not say.
—Miss Pearl Kelly to the Duchess of Colton
Nick hardly glanced in her direction all evening. The courses dragged on with Angela and Theo chatting incessantly, while her husband focused intently on his food and barely participated in the conversation. In the end, Julia almost wished she’d stayed in bed.
Finally, dessert arrived and Julia stifled a yawn.
“My dear,” Theo said to Julia. “No doubt you are tired. If you should care to retire, I’m certain Colton would be happy to walk you to your chambers.”
Nick’s head snapped up, and he glanced from Theo to Julia. “Of course. Merely say the word.”
“Thank you, but I’m sure I can manage on my own.”
“Nonsense,” Theo put in. “Allow your husband to escort you. We would hate for you to fall again.”
Julia couldn’t very well argue, especially since Colton had already risen, his tall and sinewy frame graceful as he moved to help with her chair. She sighed and resigned herself. “Good night, Theo. Angela.”
He took her arm. “Lean against me,” he said, supporting her weight while she limped from the dining room.
They didn’t speak. Merely touching him had her body heating, a fact that bothered her, considering how awful he’d been. How could she still be attracted to a man who had been so cruel? It was maddening.
When they reached the stairs, she mistakenly put her bad foot on the first step, causing her to wince.
“You shouldn’t even be out of bed,” Nick grumbled before bending down and scooping her up into his arms.
“Put me down. I am perfectly capable of walking.”
“I have no doubt, but I’d like to get there before Michaelmas.”
He took the stairs easily, muscles bunching and shifting under her fingertips as he moved. He smelled exactly as he had in Venice, of citrus and musk, and she had the absurd urge to rest her head against him. In fact, if he turned to look at her, she would barely need to lean forward in order to kiss him.
She gave herself a mental shake. Why was she thinking about kissing him?
But, oh heavens, she was. Tucked snugly against him, Julia remembered that one glorious week in Venice. Rather, her body remembered. Her heart pumped hard and fast, her nipples beading inside her dress as the need she’d tried to deny threatened to overwhelm her.
If only things weren’t so complicated between them.
Nick pushed open her door and entered her chambers. As if he couldn’t stand touching her any longer, he immediately set her on the carpet. He stepped away and crossed his arms over his chest. Cleared his throat.
“Fitz and I rode out to where you fell and, while it seems suspicious, there is no obvious evidence to suggest something sinister. Nevertheless, you need to be more careful. Fitz will accompany you wherever you go.”
“Sinister? Really, Colton, you are so dramatic. I told you it was naught but a simple tumble.”
“A simple tumble that could have killed you, madam.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “If there is no evidence, then why do I need Fitz following me about?”
One black eyebrow rose. “Because I said so.”
Julia’s jaw dropped. The man’s arrogance astounded her. “Is that all, Colton?” she asked peevishly.
“I don’t know. Is it?” he drawled, as his eyes raked her from head to toe. “After all, one could not help but notice how artfully your charms are displayed this evening. Perhaps you are attempting to gain my attention.”
Julia resented the thrill that rushed through her at his inspection, so her voice dripped with venom. “My charms, as you so aptly put it, hardly fit into anything nowadays. This”—she gestured to her dress—“was not done for your benefit.”
“And I would believe you if I did not already know what a clever little liar you are.” He moved closer but Julia held her ground.
“I would not have been forced to lie if you had not ignored your duties for eight years,” she tossed back at him. “You have no idea what I’ve been through with your family. Why, Templeton—”
She snapped her mouth shut, unwilling to tell him how bad it had truly been. Not that Colton would even care.
“Templeton has been dealt with, madam. Not only has your financial situation been sorted out, my cousin will never utter one single word to you again in this lifetime.”
Hope and horror warred within her as she contemplated Nick’s words. “Did you . . . kill him?”
Nick threw his head back and laughed, the first actual smile she’d seen from him since Venice. “No, I did not. I should have, considering he propositioned you like a . . .”
“Whore,” she finished when he trailed off. “But is that not what you believe me to be, husband?”
Myriad emotions crossed his face. Before she could discern them, he closed the distance between their bodies. One hand slid up to cup the back of her neck while the other pressed into the small of her back, keeping her in place. “And yet I cannot keep from wanting you.” Something wild and dark flared in his storm gray eyes. “Every minute, every second of every day,” he whispered before he bent his head and captured her mouth with his own.
The instant their lips met, everything else was forgotten. Lust burned fierce and hot between them as his tongue invaded to taste and torment. She clutched his shoulders, nails digging into cloth, bracing herself during the onslaught of glorious sensation.
Their breathing fast and harsh, their mouths continued to slant over each other frantically, each of them fighting for control. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; instead it was hard and angry, resentment and suspicion flavoring the wildness between them. Julia didn’t care. In fact, she thought she might die if he stopped kissing her. And when he rocked his arousal, large and hard, against her, she moaned into his mouth.
He broke away to slide his lips down her throat, his tongue flicking over her skin in an erotic trail. When he reached the base of her neck, he bit the curve of her shoulder, his teeth sinking gently into the muscles and tendons there. Julia shivered, the pain and pleasure combining to send a white-hot rush of fire between her legs.
His warm palm covered her breast and pushed up to allow his lips to tease the generous curve of flesh exposed by her dress. She arched her back, desperate for more, her breasts tender and sore and . . . aching for him.
Suddenly, he reached under her, cupped her buttocks, and lifted her. Julia instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and before she knew it, the wall pressed into her back. His mouth found hers once more in a drugging kiss, and his arousal, hard and rigid, nestled perfectly into the cradle of her thighs. She couldn’t resist rubbing her bare cleft against his length, and he growled, a low and thrilling sound. So she did it again.
He took over, rolling his hips to tease her most sensitive flesh. Each brush made her gasp, the pleasure spreading down to her toes, but it wasn’t enough. She burned, her skin both hot and cool at the same time, and she’d never felt so empty. So desperate. It had been too long, but her body well remembered the sensation of having him inside her. “Nick,” she breathed, moving her hips in time with his.
He pressed closer, crushing her to the wall, his mouth hot and urgent on her throat. She panted and clutched his shoulders, delirious with the intense pleasure that removed any last reservations about what they were doing. She needed this. She wanted everything he could give her and more.
The desire to please him, to join his body to hers, took over. She reached between them, intent on undoing the buttons on his breeches.
When her hands reached his waistband, he froze and immediately stepped back. Confused and off balance, Julia collapsed against the wall and attempted to stay on her feet.
What had just happened?
Her husband appeared as dazed as she felt. A hand went through his black hair, disheveling it. “I—” He blew out a breath and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I beg your pardon, madam. Good-bye.”
“Colton, wait,” she called, unable to do anything but watch as he hurried toward the door.
He stopped but didn’t turn around. She remembered how he’d said he would only stay until she was back on her feet. And he’d just said good-bye instead of good night. “Are you leaving for London, then?”
“Yes,” he answered, turning his head slightly to give her his profile. “I think it best.”
He was leaving. She could scarcely believe it. His hands had been up her dress not even one minute ago, and now he was leaving? That she still burned for him, had not wanted him to stop, made her even angrier. How could she hate him and yet desire him so much?
Furious, she spat, “So you can continue to ignore me? Is that it? You must have been quite disappointed to rush here only to find out I had not lost our baby.”
Nick spun to face her, his expression every bit as livid as she felt. “I never wished for you to lose the babe.” He took a step toward her. “I was sick with worry when I heard you’d had an accident.”
“I sincerely doubt that. Especially when you do not believe the child is yours.”
“I have never lied to you.”
“Ah, a clever reminder that I have lied to you. Yes, I lied, Nick. I lied because I had no choice! Theo and I sold off everything we could. I went to your mother—who would have gladly seen me thrown out on the street. My options were you or Templeton. Perhaps I was a fool, but I chose you.”
“And if that were true,” he sneered, gray eyes gone cold and flat, “you would have written to me, explaining your problem. I could have helped you, taken it up with the solicitors. Instead, you had to seduce me. I wonder why, Julia.”
Her head twisted wildly as she searched for something to throw at him. Seeing nothing within reach, she clenched her fists. “Would you, Colton? Would you have really come to my rescue, a woman you never wanted to marry, part of the family you hate with every breath you take? Simon had warned me again and again. I knew how you felt about me. And I waited eight years for you! Something had to be done.”
