What about my life, she cried silently to the night sky. She was already miserable and the vows hadn’t been spoken yet. Marriage just might make her more so.
A footman passed close to the door and Mother acquired a pair of champagne glasses. Portia took a sip of hers, and then another, draining the glass quickly. To her considerable disappointment, the beverage did not make her feel much better about her situation, and her head only ached worse.
She turned to look back into the ballroom and saw Wade cross the dance floor. “What did you want for your life when you were young, Mother?”
“Oh, a great many things, I imagine.”
She looked at her mother, who was always happier when Portia’s father was elsewhere. “What were they?”
“A home, a husband, and my beautiful daughters.”
“Love?”
“Yes, I suppose I wanted that, too.”
Portia wanted all of that. Especially love, but that seemed even further out of her reach than it had before she’d accepted Lord Montrose. She didn’t want to live a life of regret or doubt. She had given her word to marry, but she never imagined the promise meant sacrificing herself.
A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away swiftly.
Unfortunately, Mother saw. “What is wrong with you?”
Portia turned to her mother and hugged her tightly. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”
“Here now,” Mother chided, cupping her face gently. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”
“I think I’m just tired, and my head really does hurt terribly.” So did her heart. “Would you mind if we went home earlier than we planned?”
Mother studied her face, and then smiled. “The rounds are exhausting me, too. I’ll inform your father and he can explain the situation to Lord Montrose after we are gone.” Mother slipped her arm about her shoulders and turned her toward the ballroom. They did not cross it, but went around. The hall was cooler and quieter, and another tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop herself.
“It is quite natural to have doubts and fears get the better of you before you marry. I almost ran away.”
Portia looked at her mother sharply. “Why didn’t you?”
“The shame would have embarrassed my family.”
Portia sank deeper into misery and left the ball without really seeing anything or anyone in their path. Once they were in the carriage, she curled up against her mother’s side like a child. “I never wanted to embarrass you.”
Mother hugged her close. “My dear, not a day has gone by without me being the proudest mother in all of England. Nothing you could do would change that.”
Portia shut her eyes to blot out her certainty that she would do just that. Even suggesting she might end her engagement to the duke would undoubtedly upset both her parents. She needed to think, decide how it might be done as painlessly as possible, and the only place she thought she might make sense of her conflicted mind was away from everyone.
She raised her face slowly. “Mother, I’d like to spend tomorrow at Uncle Oliver’s house. It might be the last time. Can I go there alone for the day?”
Mother nodded. “Just take your maid and perhaps a little picnic basket, too. You know how you lose track of time when you are rummaging around. We need you in good health for when you become the Duchess of Montrose.”
Although Portia tried with all her considerable imagination, she couldn’t picture it. She settled against her mother again with a weary sigh. “I’ll go very early and return just before we will sit down to dine.”
“Montrose promised to join us tomorrow night.”
“Good.” But that left her with just one day to decide the depths of her madness, and she wasn’t sure it would be enough.
Chapter 19
The next morning offered drizzle to dampen Portia’s growing sense of impending doom. She and her maid hurried into their waiting carriage despite the early hour and shook off the raindrops from their cloaks once inside. As they drove off, Portia leaned close to her maid. “You are free to do as you please today, but do return by four o’clock in the afternoon.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay awhile, miss? You look terribly pale.”
That would be because she’d barely slept a wink last night. “I’ll be fine on my own. I’ll keep all the doors locked, and stay away from the windows, too, until you return. I have the picnic basket, don’t forget.”
“Very well, Miss Hayes,” the maid sighed.
Portia chewed on her lips as they turned into Soho Square and the carriage drew to a halt before the house. It was not the best address in London but the dearest to her heart. She couldn’t bear to give it up.
She stepped out onto the pavement and together they headed in. Her maid carried in the hamper and set it down in the front parlor on a little table. They had cake and sandwiches and cold chicken, and some mulberry wine, too. Then the maid headed for the rear of the dwelling with a cheery wave. Portia watched her descend the servants stairs, headed for the abandoned kitchen and the rear door. She let out a sigh as the sound of the heavy door closing boomed through the house.
Finally alone, she dropped her smile and threw herself face down on the nearest chaise lounge and screamed. Nothing was going the way she had expected.
A step sounded behind her—and Portia instantly knew it was him before she turned over.
Lord Wade drew closer, eyes full of questions. “I saw you leave last night, and I was worried.”
“I had a headache,” she explained.
“You said they were missish nonsense and you never get them.”
She gulped. He knew her, better than anyone.
And she knew him, too. By the rumpled state of his clothes and his messy hair, he’d been here for hours, just waiting for the chance to talk to her alone. It was just like him to notice that she hadn’t been herself last night. She didn’t deserve him, but she wanted him so very much to always be at her side.
Portia trembled as he sat down on the chaise next to her and took up her hand in his. He pressed a kissed to the back of it. “Do you feel better?”
“Not really. Why are you here?”
“I’m here because you are unhappy.”
“I am unhappy. I’m miserable, and I don’t know what to do,” she admitted with an unhappy wail and threw herself against his chest. Tears filled her eyes. “What is wrong with me?”
His arms wrapped around her, and Wade held her tightly against him. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Portia. Not now. You’re having doubts about marrying Montrose,” he suggested. “And you are trying to decide what to do about that, and whether your parents will forgive you if you don’t marry the duke they picked out for you.”
She nodded, and the tight band of anxiety around her chest exploded. “I can’t marry him! I just can’t!”
“There are others.”
“I don’t want them either.”
“Thank God,” he whispered.
Portia inhaled deeply and burrowed against the viscount’s chest anew. The beat of his heart was quick, and she glanced up at him slowly.
There was a look in his eye that she’d never seen before. Longing.
Portia trembled now for all the right reasons. She knew exactly what he wanted—what he had always wanted from her.
And she wanted the same thing now too.
She smiled through her tears, astonished by how desperately she needed him and his remarkable love and patience. “I’m not mad, am I?”
“Not even a little.”
Lord Wade captured her face and finally kissed her lips. Portia put up no resistance before raising her arms about his neck and kissing him back.
She found everything she’d lacked in her previous experiences with other gentlemen in his kiss, and she cried all the more. But they were happy tears, tears of joy so profound she felt herself changed. Not into someone new, but back into the person she’d always been.
She drew back from
him, astonished that she had been so blind. So dismissive. She wiped away her tears quickly less he misunderstand and grasped the lapels of his coat and shook him. “Kiss me again,” she demanded.
Immediately, Portia melted under another tender assault on her senses as he kissed her so passionately, her toes curled in her slippers. He linked their fingers as he plundered her mouth until her whole body began to quiver. She let him have his way, because she wanted him too, enjoying every moment of his ravishment.
When he drew back, Wade was breathing hard. He peppered kisses on her brow, and then just held her close.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.
What a fool she’d been to deny herself the passion of a kindred spirit. Portia smiled up at him, and then she pushed his hair back from his eyes that seemed unusually bright. “You’ll not lose me. I’m giving myself to you.”
He looked down. “But I cannot keep you. Your father will not allow you to marry a fortune hunter.”
She lifted his chin, smiling still. “I don’t think you were ever a fortune hunter. But I wholeheartedly believe you are a man interested in stealing my virtue.”
Julian’s gaze drifted down to her breasts then back up. He grinned slowly. “You don’t make it easy to ignore what’s been so close and yet so blasted far away. Damped gowns, low necklines, flirtatious smiles for everyone but me. It’s enough to drive a man insane with longing for you.”
Portia blushed but leaned back, raising her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to torment you, but I’m all yours if you still want me.”
“Now there’s an invitation I never thought to hear from you.” Julian started to chuckle softly, and he shook his head. “However, we shouldn’t stay in this room much longer if we’re going to continue this conversation. This empty old house receives a startling number of unexpected visitors. We need a more intimate location if we are to decide what to do next.”
“I know what I have to do. I have to speak to Montrose before dinner tonight. However…” Portia licked her lips, anticipating a great many things. “Since dinner is several long hours away, and my mother already knows where I am, I think I am happy right here. Alone with you.”
He began to smile. “Is that so?”
“Indeed. We have all we could ever need under this roof, even food.”
She lifted the basket to show him, and then passed it to him and stood. Portia drew him toward the staircase. “The master bedchamber has not yet been cleared out, but I’m sure we can find a spot where no one can find us.”
“Not the room where we hid together.” They started up the stairs. “What about the attic chamber? Its very private.”
Portia nodded quickly. “We can see the sky from there.”
“And the stars, too.”
Portia’s face fell. “I can’t stay that long. Mother expects me home by the dinner hour.”
He grinned. The stairs widened enough that he could put his arm around her shoulders. “I was referring to another kind of star. You’ll understand what I mean in about twenty minutes or so, I expect.”
She didn’t understand but his eyes were merry with anticipation, so she believed him. She held his gaze as they walked along, knowing she would be forever changed by what happened next between them. “Will you still look at me this way when I am old and gray?”
He set the basket down and captured her hands, bringing them to his mouth to kiss. “Every day of your life.”
Julian surprised her by sweeping her up into his arms.
Portia giggled. “So gallant.”
“Also expedient,” he murmured, as he jostled her and the picnic basket up the next flight of stairs, and then down a narrow hallway. “You know, in romantic novels, this always sounds like an easy business.”
“Are you saying I’m heavy, my lord?”
He grunted. “I’m saying I wish I hadn’t given up boxing.”
He set her down on her feet when they reached the narrow attic landing. He bid her go ahead but reminded her to duck under the low door.
Portia looked around the small chamber in surprise. This was not how she remembered the state of the room. There was little in it now besides a mattress draped in fresh linens on the floor, plus a bottle of wine and two glasses.
At the window, a bunch of daffodils had been put into a short vase. Her eyes teared up again as she discovered Julian somehow knew her favorite flower. He’d never brought her flowers before, and she’d never told him what she liked, either. If he had given them to her sooner it might have saved them both a whole lot of foolish nonsense.
She turned to look at him, feeling very uncertain of what to do next. It was a fitting setting to give up her virginity to someone she trusted and loved with all her heart. It was romantic, too.
But how had he known to do all this? “How long were you here before I arrived?”
“Long enough to make a bed for us,” he murmured behind her, before sliding his hands onto her waist and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I won’t hold it against you if you’d rather wait.”
“When have I ever changed my mind?”
“Now. Being here with me. I couldn’t be more surprised.”
She turned to face him. “I never once told you I would not consider you.”
A shy grin crossed his face. “So you did think me one of your suitors?”
“Yes, but I want to be honest. I wanted to please my parents more than anything, but it was only lately, Julian, that I thought of you as more than just a friend.”
“Since when?”
“The moment you told me that you had never been my friend, I knew we were both wrong. You were always more than that.” She kissed his cheek and turned to face the room again. He’d gone to such a lot of effort on her behalf. It was surprisingly endearing to have him make plans to seduce her, especially here in her favorite place. “I think the wine is a nice touch, but only if you drink with me.”
“I’d planned to,” Julian assured her as he bumped the door shut with his hip. He locked the door for good measure. “I doubt we’d be caught by surprise up here, given the way the house creaks and groans, but let’s not take any chances.”
“No one would imagine us together. They were all too busy congratulating themselves on marrying me off, and now plotting how best to show off Lavinia so she captures a husband. They are going to be so disappointed.”
“Everything will work out the way your mother wants, I’m sure. Perhaps even better than she dreamed,” he murmured with a masculine rumble, giving Portia chills. This was a side of Julian she wanted much more of.
“What bargains have you made now, my lord?”
“Nothing yet, and when I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“I would appreciate that.”
Portia lifted her hands to her hair. She was done wasting time and quickly removed the pins. The long strands spilled down her back. Julian moved back, and she started to blush. However, she reveled in the forbidden thrill of his scrutiny now. Perhaps she’d always enjoyed the way he watched her all the time.
He moved around her, and she shivered when he lifted her hair and his hot breath fluttered against the back of her neck. He began to nibble on her throat as she unfastened a few buttons at the top of her gown.
“You are so beautiful,” he promised. “And I know I don’t deserve you.”
Portia smiled. “You’re just saying that so I’ll keep undressing.”
“Absolutely.” He chuckled quietly. “I don’t want to risk waking up from this dream.”
“I’m not a dream. I may be spoiled, occasionally foolish, and I’ve nearly made the worst mistake of my life, but this is honestly the most right thing I’ve ever done. It’s me whose been dreaming I could be happy as a duchess. I don’t deserve you,” she promised.
When her gown was undone as much as was strictly needed, Portia wiggled out of it and allowed it to pool around her feet. Instead of leaving it there, Julian swept it up and laid it
over the back of a chair as neatly as any maid might.
When he turned back, he was grinning. He put his arms around her again. He was very gentle but skimmed his hands up and down her sides in a bewitching caress. “Stunning.”
Portia glanced down at herself. She was still wearing stays and a chemise yet. “Wait till you see the rest of me. It might be a little vain, but I’ve seen myself naked. I’m as good as or better than Lady Windermere’s portrait.”
“I don’t know. That portrait was very well done.” Julian’s arms tightened about her, pulling her into him. “Would you allow me the honor of disrobing the rest of you later so I can confirm your claim?”
“Only if you undress, too.”
“If I must,” he said with a small laugh. He removed his coat and waistcoat, showing his garments the same care as he’d done with Portia’s clothes. She blushed and looked away for a moment but turned back, just in time to see him lower his breeches.
Julian’s legs were long, pale, and very lean as he moved about. She lifted her gaze up, to find he was still wearing an almost sheer linen shirt that had seen better days. She lifted her gaze higher still and noticed him studying her.
Portia backed up a few steps and grinned. “I want you to undress fully.”
“I can do that.” He grinned, pulling his shirt up over his head.
Portia’s breath caught, and then she swooned a little. His male form was simply beautiful. Julian was nicely muscled but oh so thin. But as she drew closer to him, her heart skipped a beat as she noticed his ribs were visible. She could probably count them.
Julian reached out and slid a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze. “I’m up here, sweetheart.”
Portia ignored his rebuke and ran her hands over his body, learning his skin. He was much too thin, but for now there was nothing she could do about it. She moved until they were standing close together and slid her hand slowly down his back. She covered the round globes of his bottom with both hands and squeezed, as he did the same to her. They laughed.
“Lovely,” she whispered, and then stretched up.
Lord of Sin Page 19
