* * *
Julian was panting as he lifted himself up and wrapped his arms around Cass. She’d found her release. It was important to him because he would inevitably cause her pain. He held her for a moment, her heart beating wildly, the smell and taste of her still on his hands and in his mouth.
“Cass, do you know—?”
She hid her face against his shoulder. “Yes. Lucy told me a few things.”
He grinned at that. “All right, then. I’ll do my best not to—”
She peeked up at him. “Don’t worry, Julian. I want you to make me yours in every way.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Julian’s entire body was humming with the need to release himself inside of her. Go slowly. Go slowly. Go slowly.
He rolled over, pulling her beneath him. “I love you, Cassie,” he whispered against her temple as he positioned himself at the entrance to her body.
“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” she murmured.
Julian broke then. Sweat on his brow, he pushed himself only a fraction of the way inside of her. She was so tight, so tight and wet and hot. And, oh God— He clenched his teeth. Going slowly would be the death of him.
Cass moaned then and put her palms on either side of his face. “You’re so handsome, so handsome, and noble and—”
“God, Cassie, don’t.” He groaned through clenched teeth.
“I want you,” she whispered. “I want you so much. I can’t stand it. I—”
She gasped. He pushed his way inside her to the hilt and the momentary flash of pain on her face made him stop and kiss her cheek, her forehead, her temple. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Don’t stop. I’m fine,” she whispered back, a smile replacing the wince. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Julian closed his eyes. He braced his hands on either side of her head and pulled out and pushed back into her again, again, again. With every stroke he felt more alive. With every tilt of his hips, he felt more love. With every pulse of her heart under his, he knew it was right. This woman was his destiny, his past and his future. This is why he had lived, to come home and be loved by her. He just hadn’t known it until this moment.
He opened his eyes and nudged her with his forehead, his strokes never ceasing. He wanted to wait, to make her come again. But he couldn’t. The unequaled perfection of feeling her wrapped around him made him want to shatter into a thousand pieces.
“Julian, I love you,” she cried, just before he exploded inside her and collapsed on top of her.
He kissed her hair and pulled her fiercely against him.
* * *
Several minutes later, Julian rolled off Cass and pulled her tight to his chest. “I’ll never let you go, again.”
She snuggled next to his side and kissed his shoulder. “I’ll never let you go, either. What changed your mind?”
“I told you back at your parents’ house. I thought you loved another man. Hunt told me so.”
“But you told me”—she glanced down—“when I was pretending to be Patience, you told me you cared for another woman.”
He bent his head and kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes. You.”
She rose up on her elbow. “You meant you loved me? Cass, I mean?”
He nodded and kissed her shoulder. “Yes. It was always you, Cassie. Always. I think I knew it back when you were sixteen, but after all the years, all the letters, I was sure.”
Cass lay back on her side and wrapped her arm around his neck. “I felt so torn. I didn’t think I could ever be with you. It would have been a betrayal both of you and of Pen, two people I love.”
“I can understand how difficult it must have been for you. Is that why you didn’t send that letter?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes. I felt it would be unfair to you and unfair to Penelope. It was not until that day you came back to London that I knew Penelope didn’t want to see you. But I still wasn’t certain how you felt. It’s funny that we never spoke much of Pen in our letters.”
He nodded. “I couldn’t bear it. Besides, we had plenty to write about, didn’t we? I came back planning to tell her we couldn’t marry. But there was another reason…”
The tone of his voice frightened her. “What is it, Julian?”
He grasped her arms, stared her in the eye. “The truth is that I intended to go back to work for the War Office. I meant to go back to the Continent to find Donald and Rafe, even if it meant I never returned.”
“I don’t understand. You were going to run away?”
“Not run away, Cassie. Die.”
She gasped. “Die?”
“Yes. I felt guilty for having lived. I was meant to die in battle. I nearly did.”
“Oh, Julian. No.”
He nodded. “Yes. In fact, it was my father’s last wish for me.”
She shook her head against the pillow. “What are you talking about?”
“He told me, my last day in London, seven years ago. He told me I should die in battle. He expected it of me.”
“That’s sick. It’s awful. He was wrong.”
Julian glanced down. “Yes, well. He never thought he would need me.”
Tears rolled down Cass’s cheeks. “I’m so happy you lived, Julian, so very happy. I prayed for you every day. Constantly.”
He pulled her tight, squeezed her close. “I know, Cassie. I know. Don’t you see? You saved me. Your love, your letters, I’m here today because of you.”
“I can’t imagine life without you.” She tightened her grip on his shoulders. “Oh, Julian. I’m so frightened of what might have happened had Lucy not given you that letter.”
He squeezed her tightly. “And to think, I almost lost it.”
“Pardon?”
He gently rubbed her shoulder with his free hand. “It was hidden in the sofa for a bit. I was—ahem—jug bitten.”
She turned to look up at him. “Jug bitten?”
“Very well, drunk.”
She laughed. “You were, were you?”
“Yes, if you must know. What did you expect? I thought you were going to marry Upton.”
Her eyes widened. “I was never planning to marry Garrett. I don’t love him, and he doesn’t love me, despite what Lucy thought. He told me so.”
“He said that?”
“Alas, I am obviously not irresistible to every man.”
“It’s a good thing for Upton. I’d hate to have to beat him to a pulp.”
Cass shook her head. “Yes, well, he’s perfectly safe, then. Besides, Daphne told you I’d planned to join the convent.”
He pushed himself up on one elbow and looked at her. “Yes, and a more ludicrous notion I’ve never heard.”
Cass shrugged. “I wanted Mother to know that she cannot just sell me like an object. I wanted to take the power away from her. I wanted control of my own life.”
Julian kissed her earlobe. “Your mother will not tell you what to do ever again.”
Cass closed her eyes and sighed. “Thank heavens.”
“As for Daphne, it seems I’ve made a deal with her. She agreed to tell me your plans in exchange for my agreement to look the other way someday.”
Cass raised both brows. “Are you certain that’s wise, Julian? With Daphne, there’s no telling what she might get up to.”
His crack of laughter echoed off the walls. “Don’t I know it? And to answer your question, no, it’s not wise at all. In fact, it’s the opposite of wise. The mere notion that I agreed to it only demonstrates how out of my mind I was to find you.” He rolled over onto his back and pulled her atop him. Then he kissed her.
Several minutes later, Cass pulled away and looked down at him. “Julian, may I ask you something?”
“Anything, my love.” He pulled her close against him and buried his face in her hair.
“You said Donald was gone to the Continent … on business … Does that mean?” She glanced away. “Does that mean that he is a—”
<
br /> “I’m afraid what Donald’s been doing is quite dangerous, quite dangerous, indeed. Hunt will be back tomorrow afternoon and all of the details will be revealed, I fear.”
“And you think Donald and Captain Cavendish…?” She swallowed. “You think they may be … dead?”
Julian rested his chin atop her head. “I fear it. Yes, and I damn sure hope that’s not the case, but now I realize, with your love, I can fulfill the duties of being the earl if I must. I can do anything with you by my side.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
When Owen Monroe appeared at Julian’s front door the next morning bright and early, Julian wasn’t entirely surprised. He’d managed to sneak Cass back to her parents’ house in the wee hours of the morning, but he expected a reckoning. He just hoped it wasn’t going to be down the end of Owen’s pistol at twenty paces. It would be a shame to shoot Cass’s brother.
Owen and Lord and Lady Moreland were just going to have to be reasonable. They didn’t want a scandal. If the servants began talking, they’d be forced to allow the match. It was in their best interest to agree to the engagement as quickly as possible and begin planning the wedding.
“Mr. Owen Monroe is here to see you, my lord,” Pengree intoned imperiously from the doorway of the breakfast room.
Julian didn’t glance up from his newspaper. “Does he appear to be armed, Pengree?”
“My lord?” The butler’s voice was inquiring.
“Does he have a pistol in his hand? Or a large bulge in the pocket of his coat?”
“My lord, I—”
Julian smiled behind the newspaper. “Never mind, Pengree. Show him in. I suppose I must take my lumps.”
Pengree left then. Julian folded down the edge of the newspaper just in time to see him retreat from the room, a confused look on his butlerly face.
He returned less than a minute later. “Mr. Owen Monroe,” he announced.
Owen brushed past the butler and strode into the room. Julian eyed him up and down. No apparent pistol. A good start, actually. Hmm. But Monroe was big, quite big. In fact, he’d forgotten just how big he was. Good thing Julian was adept with a pistol himself; if a duel was necessary he had no desire to challenge Monroe to a boxing match and hoped to hell Monroe didn’t suggest it. Perhaps he could challenge him to a duel of press-ups.
“Care for some eggs and toast, Monroe?” Julian asked with a devilish grin on his face. He folded the paper in half and tossed it onto the table in front of him.
“No, thank you,” Monroe replied quite evenly.
“Care to take a seat then or do you simply want to have a go at me right now?”
Monroe grabbed the nearest chair in front of him and turned it around. He straddled it and braced his forearms on the back of it. “What I’ve come to say is quite simple.”
“And that is?” Julian braced his elbows on the tabletop.
Monroe looked him square in the eye. “Marry my sister or I’m going to kill you.”
Julian couldn’t stop his laugh. “Is that all?”
“Is that funny?” Monroe’s voice took on a shade of anger.
“No, not at all. It’s just that I have every intention of marrying your sister. I plan to do so as soon as possible, in fact. I’m in love with her.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. As you know, my parents are opposed to the match but I’ve reasoned with them. I believe they see the—ah—merit in the idea now.”
“Your parents don’t approve of me because I’m a second son, but I don’t give a bloody damn.”
“I don’t, either. I spoke with Cass before I came. She says she loves you. That’s good enough for me. You and I have always been friends. I’m still not certain what that mad house party was all about but I suspect Lucy Upton, I mean, Hunt, had everything to do with it. I was forced to go along with it because I lost a bloody hand of cards to Upton.”
Julian laughed aloud at that. “You lost at cards? That’s why?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Monroe replied.
“She has quite the reputation for troublemaking, the duchess, does she not?” Julian asked.
“You don’t know the half of it. You should have seen her as a child, a bigger tomboy you’ve never known. But Cass has always been devoted to her and any friend of Cass’s…”
“Understood.” Julian wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You know, Cass has told me that you and she were not particularly close. Why come here now to defend her honor?”
“We may not have been close as children, I am eight years older than she, after all, but Cass is my sister and I love her. I’ll murder anyone who hurts her.”
Julian gave him a knowing nod. “I feel the exact same way about my sister.”
“So, we’re agreed. You and Cass will marry, my parents will, however reluctantly, approve the match, and we’ll all be one big happy family.”
“One big happy family? I don’t know about that, now, Monroe.” Julian grinned at him.
Owen grinned back. “Pass the eggs, future brother-in-law.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
When Derek Hunt arrived at Donald’s town house later that afternoon, he was not alone. His brother Collin was with him.
Julian glanced out the window to see them coming up the walk. His stomach sank. Perhaps he should’ve insisted that Mother and Daphne remain in town. They should hear this, too. However, part of him was glad that he would be able to hear it first, break it to them gently if necessary.
He took a deep breath just before Pengree came to the door of the study and announced the Hunt brothers.
Derek and Collin entered the room moments later. Both looking somber, they shook Julian’s hand.
Collin took a seat on the sofa while Derek remained standing. Julian moved over to the window but remained standing, as well. The duke paced in front of the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back. “As you might have guessed, Swift. We have news.”
Collin’s gaze remained trained on the rug.
Julian braced himself. He placed a hand on the back of the chair in front of him.
“We found them,” Derek breathed.
Julian’s heart clenched. Hunt hadn’t said the one word he’d been hoping for. He hadn’t said “alive.”
“Rafe was badly beaten, tortured. We took him to a surgeon in Brighton. He’ll make it, but he’s in bad shape.” Hunt eyed his friend carefully. “Very bad shape.”
Julian nodded once. “I see. And Donald?”
Derek shook his head. “Rafe told us that Donald had accidentally given himself away. That’s why they were captured. Cavendish did everything he could to save him.” Hunt stopped, strode over, put a hand on Julian’s shoulder and squeezed. “He’s dead, Julian.”
Julian bowed his head. He’d known it in his heart but the word was so final and heavy and difficult. Dead.
Julian raised his gaze to Derek’s. “You found him. You’re certain?”
Derek nodded once. “Yes. We brought back his body, for your mother and for Daphne. For you.” He pulled his hand away from Julian’s shoulder.
“Thank you for that, Hunt,” Julian replied. “Mother will be grateful. So am I.”
Hunt barely inclined his head. “It’s the least I could do.”
Collin’s jaw was clenched. “I’m so damned sorry, Swift.”
“So am I,” Derek said. He reached inside his coat and pulled an envelope from his inside pocket. “This is for you. It’s from Donald. He’d given it to one of the clerks at the War Office to deliver to you in the event … of his death.”
Julian stared at the document unseeing. Then, he slowly pulled it from Derek’s hand and made his way toward the window. Facing the street, he ripped open the seal and began to read.
Julian,
If you are reading this, then I am dead, you are alive, and you, no doubt, have many questions. The War Office asked for a volunteer. They sent word to Parliament looking for someone, someone who would bravely go off to France. I want you to k
now that I did hesitate. After all, I am an earl, I have no heirs, and my only brother is at war. But I knew it would be all right, younger brother. I somehow knew you would survive. Don’t ask me how. I just did. You’ve always been a survivor and I have no doubts.
There’s something I need you to know. It’s quite important to me, hence, the reason I am writing this letter. I’ve always admired you, Julian. I know you looked up to me and wanted to be more like me, but the truth is that I’ve always wanted to be like you. You left for war, fought, nearly died. You showed tremendous courage and fortitude. I never had that in me. I think Father always knew it. It’s not particularly dangerous to sit in the House of Lords week in and out. Well, except in August when the stink of the Thames gets to be far too much. So when the call came for a volunteer, yes, I hesitated, but in the end, I knew I had to. I am my father’s son, but I am also my brother’s brother. I hope I’ve made the Crown proud, but more importantly, I hope I’ve made you proud, Julian. I may have spent my life being groomed to inherit a title, but that was nothing to be proud of. Circumstances of birth are not chosen, but bravery and courage are, and those were all things you chose. The earldom is lucky to have someone as strong as you in the lead. I heartily approve. My only regret is that I did not get the chance to shake the hand of the man you have become.
Give my love to Mother and Daphne. As for you, I suggest you marry Lady Cassandra and see to the business of having heirs as quickly as possible.
Yours,
Donald
Julian took a deep, deep breath. His brother admired him? He’d never known it. Damn it, if only Donald were here for one moment so that he might tell him the same. Julian turned back to his two friends, fighting the sting of tears in his eyes.
“You know what this means?” Derek said in a low voice.
Julian took another deep, shaky breath. “I am the Earl of Swifdon now.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
One month later
Cass, Julian, Lucy, Derek, Jane, and Garrett all rested in the blue drawing room in the Earl of Swifdon’s town house. It was Julian’s town house now. He was still waiting for the official paperwork to make its way through Parliament, but he was already performing the duties of the earl. A bittersweet thing, indeed.
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