‘Do you know everything about sex?’ Julia flirted, knowing he was dangerously aroused, but not caring. She was desperate for him after weeks of denial.
He danced her against a hedge and kissed her hard on the mouth. ‘I’ve wanted to do that all night.’
‘Devour me, you mean?’ Julia managed between kisses. The truth was, she wanted to devour him, too. She’d missed his presence in her bed.
‘I want you, Julia.’ Paine placed a line of hot kisses down the column of her neck. Julia arched against him, a moan escaping her lips. She made a valiant bid for sanity. ‘I don’t think this happened to Cinderella when she danced with the prince.’
‘Oh, you don’t, do you?’ Paine whispered huskily. ‘You might be surprised. Perhaps the prince knew how to do the “twining creeper”.’ He lifted her skirts, baring her thighs to the summer night. ‘Let me do this for you, a little of our own magic before midnight.’ His hand found the nub nestled in her nether curls.
He stroked.
She closed her eyes and gasped at the intimate invasion, but she was unable to fight it. His touch was exquisite, inviting her to take the pleasure he offered. In a few moments, he would let her soar. She was nearly there. Then suddenly he stopped.
Her eyes flew open in indignation. ‘Paine, why did you—?’
‘What was that you said about us waltzing?’ Paine grumbled softly to her, shielding her long enough for his deft hands to adjust her skirts.
‘I said it would jinx things,’ Julia said, still confused as to the abrupt interruption in their interlude.
‘Looks like you were right.’ Paine shifted from his protective position enough to reveal their unwanted guest.
They were no longer alone. Crispin Ramsden stood in the little entranceway to their hiding spot, having the decency to look uncomfortable.
Chapter Sixteen
‘You were supposed to stay on the terrace,’ Crispin ground out once he recovered his senses.
‘I am not a toddler in leading strings,’ Paine retorted, pushing Julia behind him in a belated attempt to protect her modesty. ‘What are you doing out here? Did Peyton send you to keep track of me?’
‘I wish it were that simple.’ Julia did not miss the import of the gaze Crispin sent Paine.
Paine didn’t miss it either. ‘What’s happened?’
Crispin held out a note. ‘It’s from your man, Flaherty. Apparently, he found this so important that he came here and left it with a footman.’
Paine took the note and unfolded it, reading slowly. ‘It’s worse than we thought. Oswalt has indeed managed to have his name put forwards for a knighthood. It seems that he means to bankrupt your uncle’s estate and then prop it up financially. Flaherty speculates that he might even ask to be given custody of the estate when he’s awarded his knighthood. It’s not an uncommon practice for bankrupt estates to be given over to a trustee for financial management. It’s a long shot, but we should be prepared for it. The estate’s only protection is its entailment. Still, in terms of custody, it might not be enough.’
Paine swore low under his breath. ‘It’s too audacious. It’s not chivalrous. I can’t believe the crown would reward such blatant chicanery. He won’t get away with it.’
‘Yes, he will,’ Julia said softly. The ramifications of the note were enormous. ‘If he marries me, the request for guardianship will look benevolent. He can argue that he wants to manage the estate for me, with an eye to the future heirs. His guardianship keeps it in the family. No one will ever connect him to being the cause of my uncle’s debts. On the surface, he’ll look like an angel, having offered my uncle a fair settlement for me, and for tiding the family over during difficulties. It won’t look like it’s his fault the family continues to sink into bankruptcy.’
Julia fought the urge to sway. She grabbed on to Paine’s arm. ‘We have to tell my uncle. He must be warned about Oswalt’s intentions.’
‘I’ll go tomorrow,’ Paine promised.
‘Correction, we’ll go tomorrow,’ Julia contradicted. The garden had lost its magic, the glitter of the evening had paled against the reality facing them. Crispin sensed it, too.
‘We’ve accomplished enough for an evening. I’ll tell Peyton to send for the carriage. We can respectfully leave,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll see you both inside in a few minutes.’
‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’ Julia said once they were alone.
Paine nodded slowly. ‘I had hoped against hope that you were merely an accessory to Oswalt’s master plan, whatever it turned out to be. I had hoped your ruination might save you from him.’
Julia took his hand. ‘We did our best in that regard.’ She tried for levity, but this was too serious. She didn’t have to be told that she’d been upgraded in Oswalt’s plan from a virginal accessory for a debauched man’s cure to a key lynch pin. If Oswalt meant to seize the estate ostensibly on her behalf, he’d want her, virgo intacta or not.
Paine paced the length of Peyton’s room. It was well past the time to be in bed, but he was restless, his body full of energy with no outlet and his mind a riot of options he repeatedly sorted through and discarded. ‘What would you do, Peyton?’ he said at last, halting briefly in front of the fireplace.
Peyton waved the question aside. ‘That’s irrelevant, Paine. You’re not me. I can’t advise you in this.’
‘That’s no help,’ Paine snarled.
‘Not my fault.’ Peyton straightened up from his slouch in the big wing chair by the window. ‘What do you want to do, Paine? She came to you for one thing and you’ve done what she asked. You don’t have to do any more.’
Paine furrowed his brow. ‘Are you suggesting I should just walk away?’
Peyton gave a casual shrug. ‘There’s really only two choices here, you know. You can walk away or you can stay with her.’
‘I know that and I can’t walk away. She’ll be ruined or sacrificed to Oswalt’s cause or both,’ Paine protested. The option to leave Julia to her fate was reprehensible. ‘I’ve squired her around the ton, declared to have feelings for her.’
Peyton nodded. ‘It was part of the plan. Julia agreed to it, knowing full well those declarations were not necessarily real. She seems to be a smart girl, Paine. She knew what she was doing.’ Peyton splayed his fingers on his thighs in thought. ‘But if letting Julia find her own level is so unpalatable to you, then your choice is clear. You see this out. But have you thought what that means or where that ends? I should ask what your feelings are for the girl. Do you like her?’
‘Yes. I like her a great deal.’ Paine let out a breath. He supposed that was the real issue he’d been contemplating since Flaherty’s news had arrived. He couldn’t lose Julia. He wanted Julia for his own. This was the conclusion he’d been dancing around all night. He didn’t want to go back to a life without her in it.
‘You’ll have to do more than make her your mistress,’ Peyton cautioned.
‘Of course,’ Paine shot back, irritated that Peyton thought so little of him that he had to be reminded of a gentleman’s duty. ‘I’ll ride to Lambeth Palace for a special licence as soon as the hour is decent.’
‘Then congratulations are in order. You’re about to become a married man,’ Peyton offered.
If she’ll have me.
He parted from Peyton, his mind lighter. The thought of a special licence did bring a sense of peace. He had a path to follow now, a path that led to Julia if he was successful. But he was not naïve enough to think a piece of paper would solve all their problems. Unless the contract between her uncle and Oswalt was broken, no one would legally recognise his marriage. And then there was Julia’s own reaction to the situation. Would she want to marry him? Would she understand he wanted to marry her for reasons that had nothing to do with the conundrum they found themselves in?
‘The chit was seen at the Worthington soirée!’ Oswalt threw down the note he’d received from Julia’s uncle in disgust. He strode back and forth in front of the line of h
is assembled henchman, including Sam Brown. The office at his dockside warehouse was warm and fetid, crowded with the men who worked for him. They were shuffling their feet nervously and twisting their caps. As well they should be.
They’d failed miserably. Of the men who’d ridden with Brown to catch them in the Cotswolds, one still limped, one still had an arm in a sling and the other would bear a life-long scar from his run-in with Ramsden’s knife. The others had failed to confirm Julia’s return to London except for noting that Dursley House had started sporting a knocker on the front door.
‘Damn you all! What do I pay you for if some incompetent nincompoop finds her first? How is it those milksop cousins of hers noticed her before you did?’ Oswalt ranted.
After a long silence, Sam Brown stepped forwards. ‘With all respect, sir, the likes of us aren’t invited to those functions. It’s one thing to get inside a gambling hell, but it’s mighty awkward to skulk about a ball without drawing undue attention.’
Oswalt grunted at that. ‘Still, it shouldn’t have come to this. We should have been able to snatch her out of Dursley House.’
Emboldened by Sam’s report, another man stepped forwards. ‘We have men watching Dursley House all day and all night. She hardly leaves; when she does, she’s with the Ramsden brothers and those burly footmen of the earl. We’re not afraid of a fight, but it has to be one we can win. No point in losing.’
Oswalt had to concede the man made sense. ‘We need an equaliser, then. Keep your posts, men. Watch Dursley House. I want to know the minute they leave. We’ll follow them everywhere and look for our chance. There’s a bonus in it for the man who captures Julia Prentiss. Everyone is dismissed. Brown, fetch my personal physician immediately.’
In the empty office, Oswalt sat behind the desk, marshalling his thoughts. The game was just about over and just in time, too. He needed Julia Prentiss brought to him before the solstice. Julia and the Ramsdens would get restless, secure in their own safety one of these days, and he’d be waiting to pounce on the opportunity. More than that, he’d be ready.
The door to the office opened a half-hour later. ‘You wanted to see me?’
Mortimer Oswalt looked up from his papers. His physician was here. ‘Yes, I need a poison ring, preferably by tomorrow and something discreet for a knife blade as well.’
Julia felt she’d been gone from her uncle’s house for much longer than weeks. She stared up at the town home on the outskirts of Belgravia, waiting for Paine to instruct his tiger. Fine living with the Ramsdens had ruined her much more quickly than she’d have thought possible. The house looked shabby in little ways. Weeds pushed up between the cracks in the steps leading to the door and the windows looked drab in comparison to the tall windows and elegant curtains of Dursley House.
‘Are you ready?’ Paine took her arm. ‘You can wait with the carriage. My tiger can drive you to Bond Street and you can shop.’
Julia gave him a sharp look. ‘I am not about to go shopping while my future is on the line.’ She fidgeted with the fringed edge of her summer shawl. She didn’t know exactly what that future held. Either way—winning her freedom or being forced to marry Oswalt—she and Paine would part ways. Even her coveted freedom seemed to pale against the thought of saying farewell to Paine. She’d have to go away and make a new, quiet life some place where her behaviour in London would be overlooked or, better yet, never heard of. She’d known, or imagined she knew, what the consequences would be for her choice to seek ruination. But her feelings for Paine Ramsden had not been factored into the equation then.
Well, she had made her choices and there had been no going back for quite some time now. She’d best get on with it. Julia squared her shoulders and gave Paine a confident smile. ‘I am ready.’
The viscount was stunned to see them. Aunt Sara couldn’t decide what to do first, swoon or order tea. Their mere arrival threw the household into an uproar. Julia gave Paine an apologetic look.
‘Where have you been? Your cousins say they saw you at the Worthington soirée in the company of the earl, while we’ve been here at home not knowing you were even in the city!’ Uncle Barnaby said gruffly once the excitement subsided and the four of them were seated with teacups in the small drawing room.
That news surprised her. She hadn’t seen her cousins that evening and it struck her as odd that they would have spied her, but not approached her. If they’d really been worried, wouldn’t they have rushed over and greeted her? Worse of all was the realisation that, if her cousins knew, Oswalt knew. Julia tamped down her growing anxiety.
‘I’ve been with Lady Bridgerton,’ Julia said smoothly, laying out the story she and Paine had practised. It wasn’t a complete lie. She had been with Lady Bridgerton, just not for as long as her aunt and uncle might be concluding. ‘I have decided that I will not be marrying Mortimer Oswalt.’ She couldn’t repress a smile as she made her announcement. It felt good to confront the issue at last. She felt powerful. Although she knew this time it was the presence of Paine Ramsden that gave her the power. But she had an ally and that made all the difference. They couldn’t force her to marry Oswalt now. They couldn’t lock her in her room.
Aunt Sara wrung her hands at the news. ‘Oh dear, don’t you understand? You can’t decide that on your own. What’s got into you, Julia? You used to be a nice biddable girl. Now, you’ve refused a marriage your uncle has arranged for you and you’ve run off without a note for weeks at a time. We’ve been worried to death.’
In truth, her aunt did look as if she’d been concerned. The woman looked tired and was more nervous than usual. Guilt for that gnawed at her. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, I simply needed time to sort through my feelings.’ Julia said.
‘Who is this young man?’ Aunt Sara turned to Paine.
‘I am Paine Ramsden. I’m Lady Bridgerton’s nephew,’ he added politely.
Uncle Barnaby set down his teacup, eyeing Paine in much the same way one views a venomous snake. ‘Julia, what you’ve done is of the gravest nature.’ He, too, looked as if worry had taken a great toll on him. ‘We have a contract with Mortimer Oswalt. He’s paid for every gown upstairs in your wardrobe. He expects a gently bred bride. I have given him my word, and you’ve destroyed his faith in me.’
‘Then break the contract, Uncle,’ Julia answered unswervingly, bringing the topic around to the point they needed to discuss. This part of the conversation would not be pleasant and it would be entirely too blunt, but there was no other way.
As expected, Uncle Barnaby’s watery blue eyes bulged at the mention of breaking the contract. He began to sputter. ‘A betrothal contract can’t just be broken! Do you know what that entails? I’ll have to reimburse Oswalt for all his expenditures on your behalf, Julia, and for funds he’s already advanced the family on the understanding that you would soon be wed.’
‘You could just return the money,’ Julia probed, hoping to determine her uncle’s exact level of indebtedness to Oswalt.
‘Silly chit! Oswalt was right. These kinds of transactions are too complicated for the female brain. The money has been spent. We had to have something to live on until Gray returns and Oswalt’s money seemed good for spending. After all, it was an advancement on what he owed us. We didn’t have to pay it back. It was ours.’ Uncle Barnaby’s weak chin trembled. ‘At least it was ours until you ran away and Oswalt started asking for the funds back. Now, we owe him Gray’s cargo unless you marry him.’
Julia swallowed hard. She’d heard Paine explain this aspect of Oswalt’s plan to her on more than one occasion, but hearing the despair in her uncle’s voice was difficult to bear, especially since he saw her as the cause of their woes.
Her aunt piped up cheerfully from her corner, ‘All is well now, Barnaby. Our Julia is home and she can woo Oswalt back.’
Julia folded her hands in her lap and stiffened her spine. ‘I am afraid that’s not possible any longer. He stipulated in the contract that he wanted a virgin bride. Those terms no longer ap
ply to me.’
Aunt Sara gasped. Uncle Barnaby’s eyes flew to Paine. ‘You’re a black-hearted scoundrel, taking advantage of a girl about to be married. You’re worse than the rumours.’ He shook an ineffectual fist in Paine’s direction.
Paine ignored the older man’s rant and jumped into the conversation for the first time. ‘What Julia hasn’t mentioned yet is that we came here to warn you about Oswalt. He’s planned this all along. He meant to ruin your finances, which were precarious at best. He meant to push you into irrevocable debt.’
‘Balderdash. He’s got no reason to do that. You can take your lies elsewhere,’ Uncle Barnaby stammered.
‘He’s got every reason.’ Paine carefully laid out Oswalt’s plot to the best of his most recent knowledge. ‘You cannot doom Julia to that life. You have to stand up to Oswalt and put a stop to him once and for all. You’re not the first nobleman to fall victim to his plots.’
‘Don’t listen to him, Lockhart. He’s a lying cockerel only seeking revenge for an old perceived insult,’ a voice said from the doorway. All heads swivelled to see the newcomer who’d not waited to be announced.
Mortimer Oswalt stood there in a garish mockery of fashion, dressed in a tangerine afternoon suit of China silk, more appropriate for an engagement at court in the last century than a call at the shabby Lockhart residence. Julia sucked in her breath and compulsively grabbed Paine’s hand.
‘I’d call this a fortuitous happenstance if I didn’t know better.’ Oswalt waved a beringed hand. ‘But I do know better, thanks to the men I have watching Dursley House. Imagine my elation when they informed me you were headed in this direction. I had to see Viscount Lockhart today and this makes the visit so much better.’ He advanced with mincing steps. ‘Ah, Julia, you’ve returned. I knew you would once the guilt over deserting your guardians prevailed. I am looking forwards to our nuptials, my little virago.’ He reached into a pocket and withdrew a tin of snuff. The gaudy ring on his middle finger flashed.
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