For one frantic second, she wondered if she could die from the violent bliss Sin had wrung out of her body.
Just when Juliana thought she could not bear it, Sin plunged his fingers into her core. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck. His fingers wiggled inside her, setting off another chain reaction of pleasing ripples. He slowly pulled the dampened string of pearls from her core, which only seemed to prolong the sensation.
As the last lingering ripple faded, Juliana curled herself into Sin’s chest. Those wicked pearls of his were coiled into his fist, and her skirts had fallen back into place. It was almost as if nothing had happened.
Her womanly core contracted, aching for his touch.
Sin kissed her forehead. “The pearls suit you. I hope you will wear them for me often.”
Juliana trembled. Whether she liked it or not, things had changed between her and Sin. Neither of them would be satisfied until Sin claimed her as he had boasted he would.
She did not know if she had the strength or the desire to resist.
Chapter Nine
“OF COURSE, YOU will wear Lord Sinclair’s pearls,” Cordelia said as she finished styling Juliana’s hair.
Juliana had been staring at the reflection of her bare neck, contemplating whether she should wear Sin’s gift. It was a daring statement. If the marquess saw the pearls around Juliana’s neck, his arrogance would know no boundaries.
She grimaced while Cordelia tugged a section of hair that she was braiding.
“I do not want to appear ungrateful,” Juliana mused aloud. “Still, to wear Sinclair’s gift suggests an intimate claim. Oh, my life would be simpler if Maman had let me return the necklace.”
“It was a very generous gift,” her sister countered. “It is apparent to everyone that Lord Sinclair is quite smitten with you.”
“Smitten” was not the word she would have chosen to describe Sin’s interest. It seemed too insipid for the passionate gentleman.
After what had transpired within Sin’s coach, Juliana had begged the marquess to keep his gift. She had tried to explain to him that the pearl necklace felt like compensation for allowing him to touch her instead of a gift.
To her relief, Sin had not argued when she had pressed the pearls into his hands and told him that she could not accept such an expensive gift because of the questions it would raise within her own family. His mood had shifted to one of contemplation on the ride back to the town house. He had been courteous when he had walked her to the front door. Nor had he tried to kiss her as she had expected.
And then a small box was delivered to the town house. In spite of her wishes, the mischievous gentleman had given her the string of pearls in a more respectable manner.
Needless to say, her mother was elated when she saw the marquess’s gift.
Juliana knew she had been cleverly outmaneuvered. How could she tell her mother that every time she glanced at the string of pearls she thought of Sin’s boldness and intimate caresses, which had been the rogue’s intention all along?
“Do not fall in love with him, Juliana!” she muttered to her reflection in the mirror. “Men such as Sin have little use for a lady’s heart.”
Her sister tugged on a length of Juliana’s hair. “What are you mumbling about? Such impatience! Give me a minute more and I will be ready for the hairpins,” Cordelia said, bringing Juliana back to the present.
With their limited resources, the marchioness had only been able to afford one personal maid. The servant certainly earned her keep by assisting all four ladies in the household. However, on evenings such as this one the maid was in high demand, so it was simpler for the sisters to help one another.
Juliana watched through the mirror on her dressing table as Cordelia crossed the two braided lengths of hair and then coiled the braids around the bun at the back of her head. Cordelia held the ends in place with one hand as she accepted several hairpins from Juliana and tucked them into place.
“There. Oh, how lovely you look!” her sister said, fussing with the curls around Juliana’s face. “Lord Sinclair will be enchanted by your beauty. I would not be surprised if he tries to steal a kiss this evening.”
Juliana let her gaze fall away from her reflection. It seemed prudent not to respond to Cordelia’s enthusiastic prediction.
“I refuse to remain longer than it takes to pay my respects to my mother and sister,” Vane said, moving his shoulders as if he was attempting to scratch an itch.
“I do not seem to recall demanding that you join me.”
Alexius would have preferred to have not encountered any of his friends this evening. He had accepted Thornhill’s invitation because he had learned Juliana would be attending.
It had been simply by chance that he had encountered Vane and Frost in the front hall of Lord Thornhill’s town house. The rumor floating around the clubs was that the earl had gambled away a substantial portion of his inheritance and was currently searching for an heiress. If this was true, then the gentleman probably viewed the cost of the ball as a worthwhile investment.
The trio greeted their host and moved on to the ballroom. Alexius searched the ballroom. It appeared that Lady Duncombe and her daughters had not arrived. He was not disappointed. Their late arrival gave him the opportunity to discourage his friends from lingering.
“Is Lady Gredell attending?”
Alexius looked at Vane. “I did not ask.” In fact, Alexius had not spoken to his sister since the evening he had encountered her at Lord and Lady Kempe’s ball.
“Lady Lettlecott is to the north,” Vane muttered under his breath.
It was a complication, but it was one that Alexius could avoid. “If Lord Lettlecott is present, she will behave herself.”
Frost placed his hand on Alexius’s shoulder. “And Lady Lawrie is holding court to the west. Oh, and twenty paces to the right, is that not the brown-eyed chit you tumbled two months past?”
Vane cocked his head to get a better look at the lady. “Is that the one who stuttered?”
“However, I will wager none of them interest you this evening. Nor are they the one you seek,” Frost drawled.
There was a nasty edge to his inflection that made Alexius look at his friend sharply. “Tell me, Frost, since when did you take up fortune-telling?”
The topic of women always seemed to awaken Vane’s baser instincts. “Who is the lady, Sin?”
“No one,” Alexius snapped, unwilling to discuss Juliana with his friends.
“There is a woman.” Vane grinned as Alexius cursed. “Frost, what do you know about this mysterious lady?”
“What I know does not matter,” the earl replied enigmatically. “I am more interested in hearing what Sin has to say about the wench.”
It suddenly dawned on Alexius that Frost had met Lady Juliana. The bastard had been kissing her when the pair had stumbled into the Kempes’ parlor. There was a possibility that he knew that his friend had been quietly pursuing the lady.
It would explain why Frost was behaving like an arse.
Coming to a decision, Alexius said, “Her name is Lady Juliana Ivers. This goes no further, however. My sister asked me to approach her. Belle is worried about the lady’s friendship with a certain gentleman. I am merely providing a slight distraction.”
By telling Frost the truth Alexius hoped to bank the fires of competitiveness that occasionally flared between them.
Just then, Juliana and her sisters were announced. Both Vane and Frost, like many other gentlemen in the ballroom, noted the ladies’ entrance.
While both Lady Cordelia and Lady Lucilla were quietly attractive, it was Juliana’s beauty that tightened Alexius’s chest and stirred more than his lust. She wore a frock of spring green crepe over white satin, with silk roses adorning the short puffed sleeves. Her blond tresses had been braided and arranged into an artful coil. A slender pearl bandeau rested like a crown on her head, and she was wearing his pearls around her throat.
Frost’s lips thi
nned in displeasure. He had also noticed the string of pearls around her neck. Both he and Vane understood the significance of the necklace better than its owner.
Alexius gave each of his lovers a pearl necklace.
It was a blatant declaration of his intentions.
“Is that what you are doing?” Frost asked, then walked off.
Vane nodded at Frost. “What is wrong with him?”
“The list is endless,” Alexius replied, hoping that they could change the subject. “Is that your mother?”
“Damn me, it is,” Vane said, resigned that he was not getting out of his duties. “I will see you later this evening at Nox.”
Vane gave his coat a tug and marched over to greet his mother.
Alexius frowned as he watched Lord Kyd approach Juliana and her sisters. Juliana clasped the gentleman’s hand enthusiastically and parted from her sisters. Belle had reason to worry about her lover. Alexius was worried about the baron, too, because the man was beginning to annoy him.
In her excitement, Juliana forgot to release Lord Kyd’s hand as they strolled away from her sisters. She promptly corrected her oversight and softened her actions by giving him a winning smile.
“Pray forgive my impatience, my lord,” she began, once she was assured her sisters could not overhear their conversation. “Nevertheless, your note implied that you have news about our business venture. I daresay my heart has been pounding in my chest since I read your cryptic words.”
The baron’s handsome face sobered at her confession. He brought his fist to his chin and nodded. “Alas, I regret in my haste that I might have cast your expectations in the wrong direction. I must beg your forgiveness, Lady Juliana.”
She shut her eyes to gain a measure of control and dismissed his apology with an abrupt wave of her hand. “We are business partners, my lord. We can speak plainly without offense. What is your news?”
Lord Kyd crossed his wrists behind his back as they walked the length of the room. “I fear the news I bring is discouraging. My meeting with the publisher—”
“Simpson?” Juliana interjected.
Her companion nodded. “Yes. The unyielding, visionless simpleton!” The baron’s eyes hardened as he recalled their conversation.
From his cold expression, Juliana sensed that the meeting had been disastrous. She brought her gloved hand to her bodice and let it hover over her heart. “Simpson hated the compositions,” she said, dreading that her private fears were about to become realized.
“Those were not the precise words that he used,” Lord Kyd protested.
“You do not have to spare my feelings, my lord. Exactly what did Simpson have to say about my music?”
The baron stopped and studied her face, judging for himself whether or not she was capable of hearing the truth. “Lady Juliana, forgive me. Simpson saw little value in your work. He thought the compositions charming and quite appropriate for the family drawing room. However, in terms of an investment—”
Her hand moved from her heart to her right temple. “He will not publish my work because I am a woman.”
It took everything within her not to scream at the injustice.
Juliana flinched as she felt Lord Kyd’s hand on her elbow.
“Have you considered taking a male pseudonym? You would not be the first lady who—”
“I appreciate your honesty, my lord,” she said, her voice rising as she fought back her anger and tears. “Thank you for visiting Simpson on my behalf. You were correct in calling the man a simpleton. I heartily agree.”
“Lady Juliana.”
She glanced away, unable to bear the compassion she glimpsed in Lord Kyd’s solemn gaze. If she remained, Juliana feared she would further disgrace herself by giving in to the tears that burned in her eyes. “No. Not now. With your permission, I will leave you to your evening. Good night, my lord.”
Juliana turned away from the baron and began to walk away from him.
“Do not despair, my lady,” Lord Kyd called out before she could escape. “Simpson is not the only publisher in town.”
Fifteen minutes later, Juliana stepped out onto one of the upper balconies to get some fresh air. Her mother had ensconced herself within the walls of Lord Thornhill’s card room, and neither Juliana nor her sisters were likely to see the marchioness for hours.
Juliana idly wrapped the pearl strand around her finger as she stared blindly into the night. Lord Kyd’s news had been distressing indeed. The publisher Simpson could not be bothered with a lady composer. Were her beautiful pieces only suitable for the family’s drawing room, as the publisher had told the baron?
“Well, well,” Lady Gredell said, joining Juliana at the railing. “This is a surprise. I had not expected to see you here at Thornhill’s.”
“Good evening, Lady Gredell,” Juliana murmured, wondering if it would be unseemly to fling herself from the balcony. It was a kinder choice than remaining.
“Rumor has it that the gentleman is seeking an heiress.” Lady Gredell’s look was condescending as she scrutinized Juliana’s evening dress. “You and your sisters would hardly qualify.”
The countess struck with the instinctive accuracy of an asp.
Juliana curled her fingers around the iron railing as if she could draw strength from it. “Neither would you, it would appear. If Lord Thornhill is truly seeking an heiress, he will require someone young and capable of giving him heirs. How many husbands have you buried, my lady? Now if you will excuse me, my sister is waiting.”
Eyes wide, Juliana sauntered off, belatedly horrified that she had lowered herself to Lady Gredell’s level. Juliana could not feel her legs as she crossed the room. When Sin’s large body filled the doorway, she almost wept in relief.
“Lord Sinclair, this is most fortuitous,” Juliana said, believing that his presence would prevent the countess from pursuing their altercation. She silently willed him to step back so that she could make good on her escape.
Sin’s hazel gaze shifted from Juliana to Lady Gredell, who shrewdly watched them from the balcony. “Have I interrupted something?”
“Nothing that cannot be put aside for another time,” the countess assured him. She smiled broadly at the marquess. “I miss your visits, Sinclair. When you are free, I pray that you will remember your old friend.”
Lady Gredell had the nerve to wink at Sin.
Juliana had seen enough. She pushed by the marquess and strode down the hallway.
“Lady Juliana—wait!”
Sin caught her halfway down the staircase. “What did she say to you?”
Juliana tried to pull her arm from the marquess’s hold, but he refused to let her go. “Is Lady Gredell your mistress?”
“What?” Juliana’s question had surprised him. “Is that what she told you?”
She glanced away, refusing to meet his angry gaze. “It is a reasonable question, Sinclair. After all, there seems to be so many of them in town.”
Juliana attempted to leave, but Sin would not allow it. “You have to release my arm, my lord,” she pleaded, her eyes tearing in frustration. “You are drawing attention to us.”
“Let them stare!” Sin snarled, and then cursed when he noticed her tears. “Lady Gredell is not my mistress. Nor will she ever be.”
He cupped Juliana’s cheek and rubbed away her tears with the soft pad of his thumb.
“Now tell me what she said to you that upset you so much?”
Juliana shook her head. Sin thought Lady Gredell was the reason for her tears. Since she had no intention of revealing her business arrangement with Lord Kyd to Sin or anyone else, it was simpler to let him believe the countess was to blame.
Perhaps Lady Gredell was not his mistress. Still, it was apparent that they were friends. “Nothing.” She inhaled deeply. “It is not important as long as I can avoid the countess the rest of the evening.”
And, if she was fortunate, the remaining weeks her family planned to stay in London.
Sin startled her
by nudging her down the staircase. “If you will trust me, I believe I can assist you in your noble endeavor.”
Chapter Ten
“WHERE ARE WE?”
Alexius chuckled at the wealth of suspicion in Juliana’s voice. It had been a calculated risk to bring her here. She did not wholly trust him, and rightfully so. He had designs on her luscious body. If fortune favored him this evening, he planned to taste every inch of her.
“I promised you an evening without Lady Gredell nipping at your heels. As for where we are . . . The house belongs to me,” he said, the pride of owning such a magnificent house evident.
Entwining his fingers with Juliana’s, he extended the lantern the coachman had supplied to lead his reluctant guest to one of the back garden gates.
“Sinclair, this is highly inappropriate,” she said, deliberately slowing down her stride in an attempt to halt their progress. “I should have never agreed to leave Lord Thornhill’s town house. Even with a chaperone, visiting your residence would cause speculation that my family cannot afford.”
Her argument was not unexpected. Although she was attracted to him, she seemed disinclined to indulge her passionate nature. It was a stance that often puzzled him. Why would anyone deny themselves pleasure? Rules be damned. Alexius preferred bending them to suit his needs.
“This is a gate,” he said, releasing her so he could unlatch it. “There is nothing shocking about you walking through it.”
He opened the gate. Feigning indifference, he waited for Lady Juliana to sum up the courage he credited her with to enter his gardens.
“Why should I?” she said tartly.
“If you do not, I will shove you against the stone wall and thoroughly ravish you until your knees give way,” Alexius threatened, warming to the notion. Christ, he almost hoped that she would refuse. “Then I will carry you upstairs to my bed, where I will indulge all of my wicked fantasies.”
There was a faint clicking sound as Lady Juliana swallowed.
“And the alternative?”
“You trust me to find an acceptable compromise to both our needs.”
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