After Forever, A Whisper of Scandal Novel

by Julie Johnstone

  “I’ll expect you tomorrow at the same time to continue our lesson.”

  She nodded. Somehow, she had to make him understand that the particular lesson they had today could not happen again, no matter how much she suddenly longed for it. He had made it clear he was looking for a wife, and she was deeply honored he would consider her, but she could never go down that road again, no matter how much her body yearned for him.

  Nash woke up the next morning in a splendid mood. Yesterday’s encounter with Julianna had proven she desired him just as much as he desired her, and he was certain that with the right sort of coaxing he could get her to see they could have a wonderful marriage. He hummed as he made his way to the nursery to have his morning visit with Maggie. A smile played at his lips as he thought of the way Maggie had gushed during story time last night about Julianna. The child already loved her.

  He rounded the corner to the nursery and frowned at the hushed whispers that greeted him and the sight of Julianna in his daughter’s nursery. Not that he minded her being there, but he’d not expected her for another hour. Inside the nursery, a small, lumpy form appeared curled under the coverlet. It was far too late in the morning for Maggie to still be in bed. His heart jerked in his chest and fear clogged his throat.

  “What is it?” he demanded, surging into the room.

  At once, both Julianna and Esther hushed him while Esther motioned toward the bed. “Lower your voice, so you don’t wake her.”

  His heart pounded viciously. “Is she sick?”

  “She’s got the sniffles and feels a little warm. Blessed child has a cough like a dog’s bark. I sent for Lady Barrows because I wanted a second opinion on whether I should send for the physician.”

  He glanced at Julianna. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Liza has had a similar cough before, but I suggest we watch her.”

  “We?”

  “Certainly.” Julianna peeled her gloves off. “I know firsthand how anxious having a loved one sick can make you. I’ll be happy to stay for the day. I’ll send word to my cook that I’ll be here for a good portion of the afternoon, and she can watch over Liza.”

  “All right,” Nash agreed.

  Esther patted him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go work? I’ll come fetch you if there is any change. No point in all of us watching her sleep.”

  Nash shook his head. “I couldn’t work now if I wanted to. I’m too worried.”

  Julianna’s heart squeezed at the concern that made Nash’s voice tremble. She understood perfectly how he felt.

  “Well,” Esther said, “I’ll go speak to Cook about making some broth for her, and I’ll see that a note is sent to your cook, Lady Barrows. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  As she departed, Julianna followed Nash to Maggie’s bedside. She watched as he knelt beside his daughter and, with the utmost care, smoothed her hair back from her forehead. He stilled and frowned. Motioning Julianna closer, he whispered, “She feels too warm to me.”

  With a quick survey of the room, Julianna located the washbasin. “Why don’t we sponge her with cool water?” she offered in a low voice. That’s what the physician had advised when Henry’s fever was raging and he’d rambled incoherently, but Julianna didn’t want to mention Henry for fear that Nash would jump to the conclusion that his daughter’s illness would end the same way. Her chest tightened with the memory.

  Nash nodded and moved to get the basin as Julianna settled by Maggie’s bed. She leaned over, and the child’s eyes suddenly fluttered open and a small smile came to her face. “Is it time for my lesson?”

  “Not just yet, dear,” Julianna whispered soothingly. “You’ve a slight fever. We are going to cool you.”

  “All right,” the child mumbled groggily, her voice raspy from coughing.

  Julianna and Nash worked in silence for a bit, Nash dipping and wringing the rag and Julianna patting it gently against Maggie’s head. After a while, Maggie’s breath became even, though a little wheezy, making it clear she was asleep. “I think we should let her rest,” Julianna said, stretching her arms over her head.

  Nash’s gaze held hers for moment before he spoke. “I can’t imagine how awful it was for you when your husband was dying,” he whispered. “I feel terrified for Maggie, even though I’m sure she will recover quickly.”

  Julianna stilled at the mention of Henry. Memories of that dark time and her agony filled her. “I cannot talk about it.”

  The look of hurt that crossed his face made her wince. She didn’t want to wound him. She didn’t want either of them to be in a position to be injured. “I’m sorry.” Instinctively, she grabbed his hand. “I don’t want to talk about it because I don’t want to relive the pain. I want to forget. To remember how awful I felt is to risk becoming lost in the misery again, and I cannot be miserable no matter how much I want to be. I have to think of Liza, and I have to be happy for her. Can you understand?”

  “I can.” A strange glint filled his gaze. “I want to make you happy, Julianna.”

  A sharp yearning washed over her and made her heart falter. She tugged her hand away. What was wrong with her? She did not want to allow this man into her heart, yet he was slipping in like water sliding between crevices. This foolishness had to stop. “You mustn’t concern yourself with my happiness, Nash. You need to focus on finding a lady who wants to be a wife and making her happy.”

  “So you don’t ever want to marry again?”

  “I don’t ever want to be in love again. For me they are one and the same. To love is to open oneself up for pain.”

  “Without sorrow, Julianna, one cannot experience joy.”

  She stiffened. “I’ll settle for mild happiness. That way I’ll avoid misery.”

  When he frowned, she looked away. She hadn’t meant to reveal so much of herself; it had all just slipped out. Her cracks were evidently widening. Embarrassed, she placed a hand on Maggie’s forehead and concentrated on her. “She feels much cooler now. I’m going to go home and spend some time with Liza. I’ll check back in on you. Once Maggie is better, we can resume our lessons.”

  From here on out, she was going to plan them with Esther around to avoid finding herself suddenly in his arms once again. She had a feeling he was determined to have her, one way or the other, and she worried that if she gave him her body, her heart would go with it, whether she wanted it to or not.

  Nash’s certainty that Julianna was the perfect lady to be his wife grew with every day that passed. After she assisted in nursing Maggie back to health, she committed herself with an almost zealousness to helping Maggie become the picture of a little lady of the ton. By midway through the second week, Maggie knew more about the rules of the ton and what was expected of her than Nash did, but Nash understood what he had to do with regard to Julianna. She had said she did not want to be in love again, not exactly that she didn’t want to marry once more. If he could soften her into marrying him, maybe someday she would grow to love him once she gave him the chance, and if not, he would at least have her passion.

  With Maggie and Esther gone to London for the last three days, and Julianna having been at her home tending to Liza, who’d gotten the same sickness as Maggie, he’d had a good many hours to think how to go about really courting Julianna. Now that Liza was feeling better, Julianna thought she was coming here tonight to resume his instruction with a lesson on proper etiquette at dinner. But he planned to hopefully teach her how to really let down her guard. Week after next was the Primwitty ball, and he intended to announce his and Julianna’s betrothal there.

  A scratch came at his study door, followed by Reed announcing that Julianna had arrived.

  Nash set down his untouched glass of whiskey and headed for the main entrance hall to greet her. Halfway there, he met her coming down the corridor. She looked like the picture of temptation wrapped in a wine-colored silk gown with her hair unbound and trailing over her shoulders. Lace covered her chest where the gown dipped low, but he knew from the memory s
inged in his mind what lay underneath the fichu.

  He stopped in front of her and offered a bow. When he came up, he was pleased to see her gaze clinging to him. “I was coming to greet you,” he said.

  “No need,” she said, glancing around while fidgeting with her dress.

  “Are you nervous to be alone with me?” he teased.

  Julianna narrowed her eyes. “Certainly not.”

  Her voice trembled as she spoke, and he had to fight a smile. Even when flustered, she had plenty of backbone. “Excellent.” He took her hand and tucked it firmly in the crook of his elbow before she ran away from him. She was looking more nervous by the second, nibbling on her lip and scanning the area around him.

  He led her to the dining room where he had instructed his staff to set the table so that he and Julianna were sitting side by side. After the task was complete, he’d told them, except for the cook, to stay in their rooms for the night because he wanted privacy.

  Julianna glanced at the place settings next to each other on one side of the table and then at him. “It’s not customary for two people dining together to sit next to each other. Across makes for better conversation.”

  But next to each other made it much easier to accidentally brush her leg, arm, and hand and for her to have the opportunity to accidentally do the same to him. Every time they touched, he felt it deep within his bones. Hopefully she did to and would eventually respond to him.

  He cleared his throat. “I know, but this way seemed best, so I wouldn’t be straining to hear all of your instructions.”

  She smirked but sat in the seat he pulled out for her and settled herself. Once he sat, she spoke. “I didn’t realize you had a hearing problem.”

  He almost spit out the drink of wine he had just taken. Swallowing, he set down his glass and focused on her. A smile played at her lovely lips, and her eyes twinkled.

  “I try not to think about it.”

  “Understandable,” she said, her words dripping with light sarcasm. After taking a sip of her wine, she glanced around the room. “Where are all of the servants?”

  “I dismissed them for the night. I prefer not to be gawked at while I’m being instructed on how to act like a trained monkey.”

  Her hand came to his arm and she squeezed gently. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, but I understand.”

  He should probably feel guilty about misleading her and allowing her to think he gave a damn about what anyone thought, but he was enjoying her hand on his arm, even if only there out of sympathy. “Shall I ring for cook to serve us, and then you can start the instructions?”

  Julianna nodded, and moments later, they were served. With each course she told him exactly how to act, things he must and must not do, which utensil to use, and when and what sort of conversation would be appropriate to have with whatever lady was seated next to him. He allowed her to talk without interruption. The sound of her gentle, sweet voice made him feel peaceful and oddly cared for which was absurd since she was only doing her job. But it was the way she did it with such kindness and tenderness, paying the utmost attention not to hurt his feelings and stopping every so often to compliment him.

  When she paused in her instruction, he seized the opportunity to begin his own lessons. The ones meant to open her heart. He grasped his glass and purposely took a long gulp of the wine.

  Julianna frowned. “You mustn’t gulp. Even gentleman should not drink like a dog.”

  “I’m failing miserably at my obedience training, aren’t I?” He allowed his gaze to linger on her lips. His reward was her deep blush, followed by her pink tongue darting out to lick first her upper and then lower lip.

  “Yes, you do seem rather disobedient,” she teased. “Now watch carefully and drink like this.” Her lips pressed against the lower rim of the wine-glass, and he almost groaned, imagining those lips pressed against him in the places that were throbbing with need.

  He cocked his head and forced himself to feign keen observance of what she was trying to show him. It was impossible not to fixate on her kissable mouth, or the run of her neck, or her sparkling eyes. When she was done, he nodded and moved a bit closer so that his leg brushed against hers. “Once more, please, so I can be sure I have it correct.”

  A crease appeared between her brows as a hiss of breath escaped her. But after a moment, and without moving her leg away from his, she did as he had asked, her hand brushing his as she grasped her glass.

  “I’ve got it now,” he said, his voice coming out tight to match the need mounting inside of him. He picked up his glass and gulped the remainder of the wine down. He needed to cool off before he grasped her in his arms and ran his lips over her delectable neck and mouth.

  She drummed her fingers on her glass for a moment before speaking. “Are you trying to get me foxed?”

  “No. I was trying to get you to loosen up a bit. Ever since we shared that kiss and I mentioned you filling the position of my wife, you’ve acted like a skittish colt around me. I’m not desperate, Julianna. I’m not going to throw you over my shoulder, haul you to Gretna Green, and force you to marry me.” Though the idea held appeal.

  She glared in such a way that it made him want to kiss her more.

  “I don’t think that,” she grumbled.

  “Excellent. If we are to continue working together, you must relax your guard a bit. Don’t you agree?” He held his breath waiting for her response.

  “I suppose so. I’ll try.”

  He let out a long exhalation of breath. “Outstanding. So, tell me, what do ladies and gentleman of the ton normally do after dinner?”

  “Men usually have a drink and perhaps a cigar, and the women will go to the parlor to chat and have tea.”

  “Well, since we are alone, and you told me I already mastered the art of conversing, I suppose we should turn our attention to something else I need to work on.”

  “Such as?”

  “Dancing. The waltz, to be specific. I feel certain I’ll want to dance it at the Primwitty ball, and I fear I’m not a very good dancer.” What he really feared was never holding her close in his arms again.

  Julianna quirked her mouth. “I find it hard to believe you are bad at anything you’ve set your mind to.”

  “I thank you for the compliment,” he replied, taking her hand and helping her stand. “Shall we practice in my study?”

  Her footsteps faltered as her gaze quickly came to his. “Your study? Why not your ballroom? I happen to know it’s the perfect place to dance.”

  “I’d be too embarrassed if anyone should pass by and see me making a fool of myself.” Really, he wanted to ensure that if they should happen to share a kiss, no one who might have ventured out of their room would see them.

  Her brow wrinkled, and she looked very much as if she was trying to decide whether to protest or not. “I thought you said you dismissed the servants for the night.”

  “I did. But my servants do occasionally venture from their rooms for various and sundry reasons, and I haven’t yet taken up the practice of firing them for daring to get a breath of fresh air or perhaps even a midnight snack.”

  “How thoughtful of you,” she said and quickly turned her face, but not so fast that he didn’t see her grin. When she gazed at him once more, she had schooled her features. “I’ll dance with you in your study, but you must promise to be good.”

  “I promise to be me.”

  “Nash.” It was one word full of exasperation and tinged with the threat of her leaving.

  “I promise to be good,” he vowed. It was entirely her problem she had not specified good at what. He would be very good at weakening her resolve.

  The blood surged through his veins as he led her into his study and shut the door. She moved forward a few paces and then turned slowly toward him, her crimson skirts swishing around her ankles to join the thump of his heartbeat in his ears.

  The trembling of her body was unmistakable, and the need to hold her, touch her, and protect
her overwhelmed him. Without a word, he walked to her and swung her into the circle of his arms so that her chest pressed against his. He intertwined his hand with hers and drew their interweaved fingers to his chest. She exhaled, and the coolness of her breath wafted against the skin of his hand. He pressed the palm of his other hand low against her back and molded her hips to his body to savor every curve that made her who she was. Beneath his hand, she shuddered at his touch.

  He stilled, exquisitely afraid she would pull away, run from the room, and never return to him again. Instead, she settled her head against his chest. “Never hold a woman this close for a waltz,” she whispered. “It isn’t at all proper.” Her voice caught on the last word.

  Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her ear. “I’ll remember that.” He traced the tip of her ear with his tongue and nearly swopped her into his arms when a low whimper escaped her. He had to be careful, slow down and take his cues from her.

  “That is not at all proper, either. Never do that to a woman you want to marry.”

  Her words ripped the breath from his chest. Slipping his finger underneath her chin, he raised it until her eyes met his. Fear and fire shimmered in the depths of her eyes. If he could stoke the one then he could dampen the other. “I want to marry you. You would make the perfect mother to Maggie. And the perfect wife to me.”

  Her fingers gripped his arms as she held his gaze. “I don’t want to marry ever again, Nash. I don’t want to be in love.”

  He clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to beg her to reconsider. She was clearly wary. He had to remember that. “What about passion? Can you honestly say never want to feel passion again?”

  “I don’t feel passion,” she cried out, negating her words with the force of her protest. “And if I do, I shouldn’t. Even if we were married, it’s not right. Nor seemly. Nor proper to allow passion to control you.”