All Things Beautiful

by Cathy Maxwell

Julia padded to the window, the heady scent of roses swirling around her. Stretching to look over Betty’s shoulder, Julia saw Brader dressed in riding clothes, walking in the direction of the stables.

  The dismal November Sunday had turned into a glorious Monday, with skies a shade of blue that is only to be seen after a good rain. Julia’s spirits soared with the beauty of the day and Brader’s gift.

  She stepped back, her voice alive with excitement. “Betty, hurry and send a footman to the stables to beg my husband to wait for me. Tell him I wish to join him on his ride.”

  Julia waited until the little maid had slipped through the door before she gave in to a wild, wonderful urge and threw her armload of roses up into the air over her head. She spread her arms as the roses rained down on her and fell around her feet, her earlier headache completely forgotten.

  Looking down at her nightgown, Julia conceded she had no memory of what had passed between her and Brader last night, but it had to be momentous for Brader to do something so impulsive—and for her, of all people! Happily, she skipped over the roses to her wardrobe, not wanting to wait for Betty to return before changing into her riding habit.

  A half hour later, Julia raced down the path toward the stable in such a rush she had to hold her jaunty new short-brimmed riding hat trimmed with striped ribbons in place with one hand. Betty had returned with the message that Master Wolf would wait for his lady, but Julia didn’t want to risk Brader’s changing his mind.

  The day was, indeed, a good one for a ride. The weather held a brisk wind, but the sun took out the wind’s bite. Julia’s riding habit, cut along dashing military lines, provided enough protection from the crisp weather.

  Julia didn’t stop until she rounded a bend in the path and caught a glimpse of Brader waiting with a groomsman and two horses. She gave her hat a pat in place and slowed her pace to a sedate walk but, unfortunately, not before Brader witnessed her attempt toward a more graceful approach.

  To her surprise, he laughed and in three long strides met her on the path. His eyes glowed with warm regard as he lifted her gloved hand to his lips. “I trust my lady slept well.”

  Julia’s breathing stopped. There was a look in his eyes that promised something had happened last night. She’d give her soul to know what!

  She let out her breath. “The roses are beautiful!” And what did I do to earn them? she wanted to add, but held her tongue.

  Brader tucked her hand in his arm and led her toward two bays, both animals exceptional in their form and breeding. “I knew after last night only roses suited you.”

  “You did?” Julia squeaked and then mentally kicked herself for losing her composure. Who was this man? Certainly not the Brader Wolf she remembered! And if they’d done something together that wrought this change in him, wouldn’t she also be altered? She thought of the velvet dress lying in a tumbled heap on her bedroom floor and flushed with embarrassment.

  Brader slid her a look from beneath his long lashes. “I did,” he answered solemnly.

  A minute later, Julia was mounted gracefully on her sidesaddle. It took Brader several more minutes until he sat astride his animal, settling himself uneasily on the gelding’s back.

  He nodded his head to his wife and then clucked his horse into moving. Docilely, Julia followed his lead, catching just the merest hint of a cringe on the groom’s part as he watched his master ride forward.

  Although only a passable horsewoman, she enjoyed riding, and even her inexperienced eye could see why the groom had reservations concerning the riding skills of his master. Brader turned back to wait for her, again jerking the horse’s reins too sharply.

  “What is our destination?” Julia asked.

  Brader cocked his head at her. “What? You don’t believe I could be out for a pleasure ride?”

  She laughed at the mock challenge in his voice. “Is this Brader Wolf, my husband?”

  “Minx!” He joined in her laughter until he had to return his concentration on getting his horse to move along with hers, using more urging than was necessary for the quality of his animal. “Unfortunately, you are right. I have a meeting with Mackenzie, my land manager. He wants me to see the fields he plans on draining.”

  “How interesting,” Julia teased.

  Brader’s expression turned serious. “Actually, I do find it interesting. Turning Kimberwood back to its former glory is a challenge.”

  “And you enjoy challenges?”

  His eyes on her face, he answered. “Yes, I enjoy challenges.”

  The blood drummed through her veins. Another compliment. Julia dared to satisfy her curiosity. “Brader, last night…”

  “Yes?” he prompted, his smile slow and lazy.

  Her words came out in a whispered rush. “Was I a challenge last night?”

  Brader laughed, the sound warmly masculine. His mount slowed to a halt while he leaned forward in his saddle and placed a lighthearted kiss on the tip of her nose. “My love, you are always a challenge.”

  Julia didn’t know whether to grind her teeth in frustration or blush bright pink at his teasing. Then she realized what he’d said. “What did you call me?”

  “Oh, no, Julia. I’ll not repeat myself. I’m still afraid you’d like nothing better than to have me at your beck and call.”

  Shrewdly, Julia studied him before answering. “I would like you at my beck and call and I heard exactly what you said.”

  “Ah, but you don’t remember last night,” he shot back, his eyes dancing.

  Julia kicked her horse into a trot before pertly throwing over her shoulder. “I don’t think anything happened last night.”

  “What makes you think that?” he called, attempting to urge his horse into following hers.

  “Because if it had, I like to think I would have earned more than roses!” Laughing, Julia rode a half mile farther before realizing Brader was falling behind. She reined in her horse and turned the animal to wait for him.

  Brader was a bruising rider. Julia fought the same desire to cringe she’d witnessed from the groom. As Brader reined up beside her, she couldn’t help but comment lightly. “Let up on the reins, Brader. You are sending your animal mixed signals.”

  He frowned but did as she suggested. His horse relaxed and trotted amiably toward her.

  “These are beautiful animals,” she observed, leaning forward to pet her mare’s neck.

  “Are they?”

  Julia peeked up at Brader through her lashes, trying to gauge his mood. She didn’t know if he was offended she’d offered riding instruction or not. Most men of her acquaintance would be mortally offended to have a woman attempt to improve their horsemanship.

  Brader didn’t take offense. “I confess, I don’t like the blasted animals and I don’t like riding on their backs.” Seeing her surprise at his outburst, he added, “I don’t even like naming them.”

  Julia was surprised into laughter at the last of his confession. “Naming them?” she repeated, her eyes twinkling.

  Brader looked very serious. “Yes. I attended a meeting last week with a young lord who had the bad grace to name his horse Hippomenes.”

  “Hippomenes?”

  “Is that not a seriously ridiculous handle for a horse? But it is not the worst one I’ve heard. Ride around Hyde Park any day and you’ll hear young bloods calling out Hotspur, Thor, Lancelot, and other such names to their horses. Why, there was one dandy who named his animal Caligula. Isn’t that nonsense?”

  “And what name would you give a horse?” she asked, trying to keep her expression serious.

  “George,” came his prompt response.

  Julia broke out into unladylike laughter. “George?”

  “George,” Brader reiterated, although there was now a suspicious sparkle in his eyes. “After our good monarch. That’s what a loyal Englishman should name a horse.”

  “Oh, Brader!” she cried, delighted at his ridiculousness.

  He smiled, and again she was struck by how devastatingly
handsome she found him when he relaxed and laughed with her. “I hate to ride.”

  “No,” she teased him. “I would never have guessed.”

  Nodding with mock seriousness, he said, “I’ll sail, I’ll walk, I’ll ride in a coach. I’ve even been known to run to a destination, but I dislike riding on the backs of these animals. It’s unmanly of me, I know. But here I sit, unmanned,” he finished, looking very male to Julia.

  She shook her head, touched by his openness with her. “Riding is not that difficult. You are making it harder than it is.”

  “It’s a mystery if you were raised on London’s back streets or spent eight years in the King’s navy.”

  “Nonsense, Brader. You need to relax and loosen the reins. Anyone can become a competent rider.”

  “So says a woman.” He snorted. “It is more difficult if you are a man. Whom do I ask to instruct me? I will not have it bandied about that Brader Wolf needed riding lessons.”

  “Brader, if you always ride like I’ve seen you, your lack of riding skill is common knowledge.”

  “Only to those who have a care for my comings and goings.”

  His tone was still lighthearted, but Julia realized there was enough truth spoken in his words to prove he’d given the matter some thought. “Riding a horse calls for no great skill. I assure you, although I am only a competent rider myself, it is considered a necessity to sit a horse well,” she told him.

  He raised an eyebrow. “A necessity?”

  “A necessity,” Julia confirmed.

  “Well,” he said at last, “it’s not going to happen. I am not going to expose myself to ridicule with riding lessons.”

  “Brader—”

  “I’m a grown man, Julia.”

  “You can still learn.”

  “And whom do I ask to teach me, my head groom? That would be fodder for the servants.”

  “Me.”

  Brader looked at her with interest. Julia lifted her chin.

  “Well? It shouldn’t take very long. If we came out every day for a few weeks, I imagine you’d become a passable horseman.” When he still didn’t answer, she smiled and added, “At least we’ll be able to think of a name for your horse.”

  In answer, he nudged his horse nearer hers. The dimples she admired appeared. “Cicero.”

  Julia shook her head. “What?”

  “I like the name Cicero.”

  She looked at his horse with a dubious eye. “And here I thought he seemed a perfect George.” Looking up with laughing eyes, she discovered Brader and his mount much closer than she’d realized.

  He’s going to kiss me, she thought, a mere second before his lips lowered to hers. The kiss was sweet with longing and, yes, with promise.

  She wanted to protest when he finally pulled away. Opening her eyes, she announced, “I have no idea what we did last night, but I for one, plan to repeat the performance if it continues to reap these benefits.”

  She had the satisfaction of seeing his look of astonishment, before she urged her horse forward with a rakish tilt of her head. He quickly rode up to join her.

  “You truly don’t remember last night?”

  Julia smiled, even though she could feel hot color stain her cheeks, and shook her head no.

  Brader threw back his head and laughed.

  “I hope you are not laughing at anything I may have said or done last night,” she commented dryly. A thought struck her and she hastened to add, “Nor do I want you to think I drink excessively.”

  “And here I told Hardwell to arrange for another case of burgundy.”

  Julia laughed, filled with the joy of living in response to the open admiration in his eyes. Yes, she thought to herself, life felt very good.

  “How could a vibrant, intelligent, beautiful woman like yourself ever bring herself to attempt suicide?”

  Her world turned cold, the bright beauty of the day soured.

  She pulled hard on the horse’s reins, heedless of the animal’s impatient stamping. Her mind whirled with his question.

  Brader reined in his horse. Waiting.

  He’d asked the question in seriousness, damn him. “It’s not what you think,” she said sharply.

  “You didn’t attempt to take your life over the scandal?”

  “No.” A curt, blunt answer.

  His strong hand reached out to take hold of her horse’s rein. He leaned toward her. “Tell me, Julia. Why? At one time, I thought you were either weak or silly. Later, I started to believe he’d broken you, but I find none of those words describe you. Why would you attempt to take your own life?”

  She hated him, this man who loomed before her and asked the question no one else had ever put to her: Why? There had been a time when she’d wanted to explain and no one would listen. Now, she discovered words failed her.

  She forced them out, her smile brittle. “I had no choice.” She made as if to kick her horse forward, but Brader laid his hand on her rein.

  “That’s not enough, Julia. I want it all.”

  A surge of anger coursed through her. Coldly, she stated, “I ruined myself. I disgraced my family.”

  “But to attempt suicide, Julia? Why didn’t Lawrence marry you? Your family could have insisted. He was in the military. Your father could have arranged for a marriage in a thrice with a few words to his commanding officer.”

  Julia forced herself to look into Brader’s serious dark eyes, although she felt hot, angry color flood her cheeks. “He didn’t prefer women. Do you understand, or do I need to be more explicit? I still find the revelation shattering.”

  “Julia—”

  “No.” Julia shut him out, the words pouring out of her. “My parents did not pay one minute of attention to me until it was determined that I would grow into a great beauty. And then the only reason they took any interest at all was to see me married to money. Money!” She spit the word out. “I was nothing more than a commodity to them, like your stocks or the field you want drained.”

  She slid out of the saddle onto solid ground, feeling the need to move, to act out her anger. She turned on Brader. “My parents and my brothers are not honorable people.” Those words were so difficult to speak out loud. She fought the burn of tears in her eyes.

  “A Spanish duke had offered for me.” She curled her lip. “The man had palsy, no teeth, and liver spots all over his face, but he was very rich. I thought at one time I could go through with a marriage of that sort. After all, it was expected of me. But I discovered when the time came, I didn’t have the heart.”

  She began pacing. Brader climbed off his mount and stood silent, listening.

  “You know about the bet on the book at White’s. I never suspected that anyone would turn the tables on us.” She stopped abruptly. “I was desperate not to marry the old duke, and I’d had enough of Geoffrey’s schemes. My illustrious oldest brother was becoming worse. More demanding. He’s the one that set everything up, but his plans were becoming more bold. More wicked. He had me trapped, and I was afraid of what he’d ask me to do next. He knew I didn’t want to marry the duke but suggested that I go through with it…and then help hasten his death along. He’d done a thorough study of poison and thought we could get away with it.”

  Julia fought back a shiver at the memory. “I couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to do it. It was madness. It was going too far. Suddenly, Lawrence came into my life. He was beautiful—truly, a beautiful man—and so dashing in his uniform that I grabbed on to him as a savior.”

  Julia surveyed Brader haughtily. “Do you not appreciate the irony? I entertained over thirty offers for my hand in less than two years, and the man I chose didn’t even like women.” She spread her arms. “After we were exposed in the inn, I asked—” She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to admit the truth. “I begged Lawrence to marry me. And he refused.”

  Her voice was low and quiet. “My whole sense of self-worth was measured by my marketability as a wife. Suddenly, I found myself exiled at Danescourt. My f
riends deserted me. My family turned their backs on me since I was no longer of use to them.”

  She could no longer look at the intensity in Brader’s eyes as he listened. She averted her eyes. “Geoffrey visited Danescourt while running from some rude stunt he’d pulled. He told me I wasn’t worth the food it took to feed me. He said the only honorable course, the only noble action left to me, was making a quick end to my miserable existence.” Julia paused, remembering, before finishing. “And I agreed with him.”

  Brader snorted. “There is no honor in suicide, madam.”

  She lifted her gloved hand and patted the mare’s neck. “I know that now. I’ve discovered it takes more courage to face yourself day in and out. To live with your mistakes and your failures.” She leaned her head against the horse’s neck and whispered, “But there’ve been so many times when it would have been easier to take my life. In the end, I couldn’t do it. Geoffrey helped me with the knife. The cuts didn’t hurt like I thought they would, but the blood…I ran screaming for Emma and Chester. I passed out. When I regained consciousness, I had these.” She held up her wrists and looked at where the scars lay beneath her gloves. “But no brother. Emma never even saw Geoffrey. Sometimes I can almost believe I imagined him.”

  Brader came up behind her. His body molded to hers, his warmth shielding her from the wind’s brisk bite. “Your brother was involved?” The unique vibrancy of his voice brushed against her ear.

  She turned in his arms to face him. “Don’t blame Geoffrey. I am the one with the sin on my head.”

  “And you believe that no man or God can absolve you?”

  Julia nodded her head, again fighting tears.

  Brader’s finger raised to trace the fine line of her cheek down to its jaw. “I understand.” And she knew he did. Understanding of her pain echoed from his voice to the depth of his dark eyes.

  “I was a different person, Brader. Vain. Selfish. Freeing my family of me seemed to be the first unselfish thing I’d ever attempted.”

  “Do you feel that way now?”

  No, she ordered herself, I won’t cry. I won’t break. She hid her emotion from him. “The Beals found me, and it is due to their care and concern that I am alive today. Sometimes, I feel reborn…as if I’ve been given another chance.” The strength in her voice grew with the conviction of her words. “I want meaning in my life. I want—”