by Patty Deans
"Sweet Jameson," Aunt Shredda chuckled. "Julia has been sleeping in this room for at least four years. Now, tell me, when did you arrive?"
"Last night," he grumbled, not at all pleased by the news someone had taken possession of his room.
"How did you get in without disturbing the servants?"
"It was midnight or close around that time. I climbed up the trellis. Totally exhausted, I fell into my bed. Why didn't she...wake up?"
"I put a sleeping potion in her cocoa last evening. Thought Julia deserved a night's sleep." With an obviously wicked grin, his aunt shrugged.
"What's thrown you into good humor, Aunt Shredda?" He saw nothing hilarious about the present situation.
"I must protect Julia. I think you best leave, James," Aunt Shredda said through her laughter. "We will talk later. Your presence in this bedroom is highly improper."
"It's my room," he grumbled.
"Not any more!" Julia responded loudly. "You are in my room, in my bed. You are not supposed to be here until tomorrow!"
"Don't pretend that this isn't my room. It's been my room since I turned six. You are in my room."
"Your father gave me this room. He was the earl."
James could not stifle his grin. Julia hadn't lost her determination, still a spunky little girl. Trying not to laugh, he said in his most determined voice, "Get out of my bed, Julia. I'm the earl now."
"I won't get out!"
Aunt Shredda stood with her arms akimbo. "Get out, James!"
"Get this child out of here so I can get dressed. I haven't a stitch on. If you don't believe me..."
"James!" Aunt Shredda gasped in shock at the outrageous suggestion. "Julia is an innocent."
As he tossed the covers off his bare chest, Lady Loretta screamed, "Turn your head, James. Julia, put on this robe. We'd best take you to your dressing room until this rascal vacates your bed."
"I've no plans to vacate it," James mumbled. "It's mine."
"Not any more," his aunt disagreed again. "Come on, Julia." Aunt Shredda could be heard scurrying around leading Julia toward the dressing room. "You can dress now, James."
At the sound of the door slamming, he crawled out of bed, and dressed as best he could. The fact he couldn't achieve the spit and polish appearance that symbolized an officer in His Majesty's Army sent a surge of anger through him at his civilian status. It was time he make his dear aunt understand he is the earl! "Are you planning to have breakfast with me this morning, Aunt Shredda?"
Her answer could be heard clearly from the partially opened door. "You and I have more than breakfast to discuss this morning. I'll meet you in the library in an hour. Be discreet when you leave. You have Julia's reputation to consider."
Determined at least to look commanding, he threw back his shoulders and marched straight to the wall and touched it. As soon as I get my bearings and the sleep from my eyes, Aunt Shredda will find out exactly who is running Hawkthorn. She is not going to undermine my authority over my wards! I will show her I'm better with children than she is. A wood panel slid aside, and James, with all the dignity of an English officer, stepped into the void.
In the darkness, relying on memory, he cautiously stepped down the long, narrow, dusty stairs pushing aside spider webs and checking on the security of the banister. Once on the flat area, he ran his hand along the wall until he felt a leather strap. Slowly, he slid open the panel, and entered the library. Pausing first to control his anger, he closed the panel quietly though he had the urge to slam it. What's wrong with Aunt Shredda? A silly child slept with him and Aunt Shredda laughed like she belonged in bedlam.
James began to think of himself as the earl. He no longer needed to obey orders; he was not in his Majesty's army. Although he had always respected his aunt's insight into people and situations, she had no right to order him around. In a few days his dear aunt will come to realize that he's in charge of Hawkthorn.
He felt at a disadvantage in his wrinkled uniform. Damn, his new clothes wouldn't arrive until noon. When he should have arrived and been received with dignity, not standing here ramrod straight like a scolded boy. Unable to sit, he paced while he waited. When he heard footsteps in the hall, James stood stock-still.
Into the library walked Aunt Shredda with her chin raised.
Ellis trailed behind her carrying a tray with two silver pots and a generous breakfast platter. He set the tray on the library table and arranged its contents. He bowed to James and said, "The staff is pleased you have returned safely, my lord."
"I'm happy to be here, Ellis. Tell them I'll meet with them later today."
"Yes, my lord." Ellis turned to leave and Aunt Shredda followed him to the door and locked it behind him.
"Sit down, Jameson," she ordered. "You surely realize you must offer for Julia."
"Offer what?"
His aunt glared at him.
"What the devil! The child was sleeping in my bed." He made a fist and held it against the old wood of the desktop, controlling it from rising to beat on the desk. The silent mirth twinkling in his aunt's eyes annoyed him.
"After you." He gallantly indicated a chair. Once she was seated, he stood at his own chair drumming his fingers on the back while she arranged her skirts. Then he sat across from her.
She slowly raised the silver coffeepot and poured coffee into a fine English-china cup. With a smug smile, she passed him the cup, then reached for the teapot and poured a cup of tea for herself.
After sipping the steaming coffee, he said, "What was Julia doing in my room?"
Aunt Shredda sat back in the chair and looked indignant. "Your bed is now in the master bedroom. Your old room belongs to Julia."
He leaned forward and frowned. "Well, she can have the room. I didn't mean to throw the child out."
"Julia isn't a child, she's a young woman. Seventeen to be exact. You must offer her marriage," his aunt breezily replied.
"For God's sake, Aunt Shredda, you can't believe anything happened. I didn't realize she was in the bed."
Aunt Shredda held her hand to her chest and spread her fingers as though about to take her last breath. "Someone may have seen you leave the room. You must offer for her, James."
"Ridiculous!" He shook his head. "I left by the hidden stairs."
"Those hidden stairs are no secret. Besides, you left the French doors partially open. Julia leaves them closed." Aunt Shredda smiled and breathed deeply. "You must offer for Julia."
"She would never want to marry me. She's a child."
In the most officious manner, Aunt Shredda demanded, "The Earl of Hawkthorn should not recoil from his duty. I insist that you offer for her!" Aunt Shredda placed her translucent teacup on the table and rose slowly as though she hadn't raised her voice. "I'll send Julia in directly."
James stood and retaliated. "Just one moment!"
"Of course." Aunt Shredda sank back into her chair, and raised her chin defiantly in the air.
"Just exactly why do you think she would be well-off married to me?"
"You are head of the family now, she will obey your counsel. At least we might say you did your duty by her."
He rubbed his hand against his whiskers. "If that be the case, I will arrange for her come out. That is simple enough. Would you enjoy sponsoring her?" When his aunt hesitated, he added, "I'll pay for both your gowns."
"She might not want to be launched."
"I know she's not a beauty like her mother, but a large dowry will help."
Aunt Shredda scrutinized him for a few minutes and made him devilishly uncomfortable. Julia must indeed be unattractive. He sighed, adding, "Proper gowns will improve upon the young chit's looks."
"Yes, of course. But, you must ask her and let her decide. I could not otherwise be persuaded." Aunt Shredda's voice demanded compliance.
After serving as a captain in the army he had learned to rein in his temper and deal with the difficult. He didn't want it claimed that he'd inherited the Old Earl's disposition. It soun
ded easy enough. "You're right, dear aunt. It's precisely the sort of situation gossipmongers thrive on. It takes little imagination to see the trouble that could inspire if someone discovered I spent the night in Julia's room." He stood, then paced. "Even a plain miss wants a season. Send her to me. I'll persuade her to into taking part in a season."
"Of course, my dear," his aunt soothed in a solicitous manner. "Now, that we are speaking of responsibility, I should like to remind you that you are the Earl of Hawkthorn and should not encourage the gossips to spread the old rumors by dashing after opera singers and the like as you used to. It would so endanger Julia's possibilities."
"I promise to do whatever is in my power to bring about Julia's successful come out. But, I will wash my hands of you, Aunt Shredda, if you become too demanding."
He held his aunt's chair as she rose holding her back as straight as a poker. "Oh course you shall," she agreed nodding with a smile of satisfaction that caused his hackles to rise.
He watched her walk out of the library as though she were royalty. He murmured to himself, "You're a scheming old woman, my sweet Aunt Shredda. But you have met your match."
Surely with the proper gowns and dowry Julia could be made presentable. Hell, he hadn't seen much of her, other than a bit of her tiny foot and that mop of unruly hair. He hadn't dared a glance with Aunt Shredda staring.
James walked around the table to pour himself another cup of black coffee. Not long after his aunt's departure, the click of the door caught his attention.
Julia entered the room. His heart lurched.
CHAPTER 4
Julia quietly stood in front of James. The sweet scent of roses filled the room. The lavender muslin revealed an entirely too bewitching, feminine figure. He gawked and it angered him. My God, what had happened to the skinny girl? What could Aunt Shredda be worried about? Julia had grown into that mass of golden locks. Her deep blue eyes pierced his soul and left him breathless. He couldn't believe she'd been twelve last time he saw her. She would take in the marriage mart on looks alone. If she were older, or he were younger, he would enjoy introducing her to love making. He needed his wits about him now and not the reminder that it had been too long since he'd had a woman to bed. Mentally, he shook the thought out of his mind. For now, he needed to choose a suitor for her.
He cleared his throat. "Would you like a come out, Julia?" He tried to speak fatherly to his ward, instead he sounded more like a man trying to bewitch a goddess.
She shrugged. "I don't believe I have time."
He ran his fingers through his hair, as if the action pushed the sting of her rejection from his thoughts. "Nonsense! We will make time for a season."
Her deep blue eyes opened wide. With an air of innocence, she asked, "Are you taking me to London?"
I would rather take you to bed. He shook his head trying to toss off his wayward thoughts. "I would see you properly chaperoned." A determined glint flashed in her eyes. The same glint she'd had when she called him a dragon. Her mouth twitched and she almost smiled. "By whom, my lord?"
He searched a moment for an answer. "Aunt Shredda...and myself at times."
Her eyes twinkled. "I don't believe Aunt Shredda wants to be bothered with a season in London, and I don't have the time. Is there anything else, my lord?" She started to turn from him.
"No! Come back here," he growled. "What do you mean, you don't have time?"
"I have been managing the household."
"We have servants...you aren't responsible for anything in this household. You can take the time." He swallowed a sip of cold coffee, and broached the topic weighing heavily on his mind. "The incident last night, it seems proper I ask you to marry me. Of course, you need not accept. You probably were unaware I occupied the bed when you joined me. On the other hand, as my ward you must have your season. With a fine dowry, which I will provide, you will take well on the marriage mart and perhaps capture a title."
"Thank you, my lord." Her lips turned up a bit making him wish to taste them. "You may keep your dowry. I accept your proposal of marriage." With a smile she reached out her hand. "Shall we shake hands, my lord?"
He straightened and stopped himself before he slammed down the coffee cup. This was not the response he envisioned. Carefully he put the cup on the table to steel his courage, then looked directly into the chit's eyes. "Dash it, Julia! What is wrong with you? You need not worry, you'll take."
Demurely she looked him up and down. "You will do just fine."
Her words sounded nonchalant, as if she were picking out a hat or ribbons instead of accepting his hand in marriage. This was not the playful child he remembered. With her shoulders squared, her head held high, and those blue eyes flashing, he could hardly claim Julia tall, yet it made her appear impressive. His gut feeling told him it would not be easy to talk her out of marrying him.
"I can stay here in Hawkthorn while you live the wild life in London." She sighed.
With some misgiving, James studied her closely. What's she up to? Anger grasped him, but he knew from experience in battle, the importance of maintaining a calm manner. "Julia, I have no intention of spending my time in London." He had no reason to let her know that he had lost his appetite for the city's flagrant display of sins for the gentry's sons.
Julia's gaze settled on his eyes before she let her lashes fall.
He eased himself closer compelling her to look up into his face again. At the same time, trying to force a withdrawal from his proposal. Such a dainty woman to be so obstinate. Why didn't she say something?
He took a step closer. "I expect my wife to sleep in my bed and indulge my needs."
She shuddered visibly, and snapped her eyes closed. He had hit a nerve. She had too little experience to maintain her bravado. "Ah, little one, you are not sure you want a man in your bed."
Julia made it easy for him. He took another step closer.
She held steadfast, opened her eyes and looked straight into his, her dignity intact.
He slowly took another step. "I expect my wife to bear many sons."
She reached behind her, clutching the back of a tall chair. Her knuckles turned white, yet she did not glance away.
"I'm stubborn and demanding." He smiled. "Remember the dragon, as you so aptly called me for not allowing you to fish with the stable boys."
She blinked.
He took another step, now almost touching her. "You know I'm an unreasonable devil, a fire breather," he whispered.
"Did you wish to kiss me, my lord?" Although her voice sounded unsteady, she leaned toward him, her high breasts brushing his lapel.
Damnation! She showed spunk. His arms willingly circled her waist and he felt her tremble for a second. He stifled the urge to smile. Not unaffected by her fate, she never flinched a muscle. With a finger he tipped her chin up, and lowered his lips to hers. He meant to gently brush her lips, but the taste of her lured him to deepen the kiss.
When she put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, his heartbeat accelerated. The warmth of her body, the softness of her lips, triggered his desire leaving him surprised by her action and his response.
Finally, coming to his senses, he pulled away. Her sweet scent of lavender didn't slow his racing pulse. The preposterous little minx was much too innocent for him. Damn, what would her passionate kiss be like?
Julia stepped further away.
Parting from the heat radiating from her body left him feeling rejected. "Then it is settled and sealed, my lord. When do you plan we marry?"
Startled by her tenacity, he raised a brow. Even with her chin tilted, her blue eyes snapping with courage, he was conscious of her as an alluring female. Her spirit drew him. Her seventeen-year old spirit, he chided himself. She's too young. Yet her youth made him feel less tarnished. "After you have had a season, my dear," he finally managed to answer.
"Unnecessary, my lord." She gave a small bow and left the room.
His unexpected reaction to her kiss disturbed him mo
re than he wanted to admit. Blood had surged through his body and left his loins aching for a forbidden pleasure. She was beautiful from her head to the tips of her toes.
He took a deep breath. A tug of reluctance to choose a suitor instantly invaded his heart. He regretted that he must frighten her into the arms of another man. What he didn't want was for her to rue being leg shackled forever to a former soldier; too old, too cynical and too disillusioned with love and life. Besides he had no need to take a wife for the sole purpose of an heir, he had Robert.
Aunt Shredda should have advised Julia to refuse him and leave to give her a few weeks left of the little season. In his mind he had not wrecked Julia's chances of choosing her own husband. With a big dowry, she could have her pick of the ton. He wasn't an ogre. He would give her a chance to beg off.
Taking in a deep breath, he swore in a whisper, "Devil take it! Aunt Shredda means to leg shackle me!"
He plopped down in the big overstuffed chair his father had favored. What could he do to make Julia understand he had her best interest at heart? He had been tired when he lay down last night, but not so tired he would have missed another person in his bed. Too many years he had slept with one ear and one eye open to any intrusion. Had Aunt Shredda orchestrated this? Had she encouraged an innocent to play with fire? Julia was far too young to be that shrewd. Yet he knew with that sixth sense that kept one alive in battle that someone had manipulated him. And he intended to find that person, and he hoped he could avoid committing murder.
***
Julia wasted no time racing upstairs to the nursery.
"Good morning, Robert." She leaned over and kissed him, before turning to Miss Harper. "I'll stay with Robert for an hour to help him with his translations."
The minute the governess left the room, Robert crawled onto her lap. And Julia hugged him tight. "Our prayers have been answered," she whispered. "The new earl has asked me to marry him."
Robert jumped from her lap and danced around the room. "Oh, Julia, I love you. Aunt Shredda warned me you might not be able to keep your promise to stay with me. I am afraid to live alone with the Hawkthorn Dragon."
