Never Less Than a Lady (13 page)

Julia shifted wearily on the carriage seat. She’d spent a dozen years living quietly in country villages, never traveling more than a few miles from home. She had lost the habit of long journeys. Randall and Mackenzie had much better endurance.

Randall glanced out the window. “We’ve made good time today. We’re coming into Grantham now.”

She glanced out her own window and saw nothing unusual. “I suppose you’ve been up and down the Great North Road often enough to recognize all the landmarks. Will we be stopping here, or going on for another stage?”

“You’ve been very patient with all these long days of travel.” His smile was understanding. “Grantham has one of the Midlands’ best coaching inns, so it’s a good place to spend the night.”

Mackenzie sat opposite them, idly tossing dice, right hand against left. Not looking up, he said, “My mother died in Grantham.”

“I didn’t know that,” Randall said, looking surprised.

“No reason why you should.” Mac scooped up the dice and shook them between his caged hands. “As you know, she was an actress. We were heading north so she could join the theater circuit based in York. Her death was very sudden.”

Julia caught her breath, remembering that Mac had been very young when his mother died. “You were there? How dreadful for you!”

He tossed the dice onto the seat beside him and studied the results. His expression was improbably neutral. “Luckily my mother’s maid was a capable woman. She arranged for my mother to be buried in the parish churchyard, then packed me up and took me off to my father’s country house.”

“Had you met Lord Masterson before then?” Julia asked.

“Once or twice. I remember him saying I looked much like his son Will, but without the manners.” Mackenzie grinned. “That has never changed.”

They all laughed, but Julia said, “You were fortunate that the maid knew where to take you, and that she did it.”

“She kept my mother’s jewels and clothes as payment for her efforts,” Mac said dryly. “But yes, I was lucky she didn’t abandon me to the parish here in Grantham.”

“Lucky also that Lord Masterson recognized you as his son,” Randall added. “Will Masterson’s father might not have been a model of moral behavior, but he liked boys. I spent a number of school holidays with Will and Mac and the rest of the family.”

Julia guessed that had been his way of avoiding Branford. A memory struck her. “I haven’t thought of this for years, but Branford had an illegitimate son born shortly before I learned I was pregnant. He taunted me several times for being slow to produce a child, since he was clearly capable of doing so. I wonder what happened to that boy? He must be twelve or thirteen now.”

Mac frowned. “Did the child live with his mother?”

Julia thought, then shook her head. “I had the impression that was the case, but I don’t remember any more than that.”

Mac frowned even more. “I hope the boy wasn’t neglected after his father’s death. He would have been just a baby.”

“Presumably the mother could appeal to Daventry if she was in dire straits after Branford’s death,” Randall said. He was undoubtedly right, but still Julia wondered about the boy. Every child deserved a decent home.

They were on the Grantham High Street when Mackenzie signaled the driver to stop. “I think I’ll get out now and walk the rest of the way to stretch my legs. I’ll catch up with you at the inn. Will you book a room for me? I presume you mean to stay at the Angel and Royal.”

Randall nodded. “If they’re full, we’ll go to the next inn down the high street. I forget what it’s called, but it’s just beyond the Angel and Royal.”

“I’ll find it.” The carriage rattled to a halt and Mackenzie swung out.

After he closed the door and strode off, Julia said, “I’m tempted to join Mr. Mackenzie. I’d like to stretch my legs, too.”

“I doubt he’d want the company.” Randall gestured out the window at an unusually tall, slender church spire. “He said his mother was buried at the parish church. My guess is that he’s going to visit her grave.”

“Then I shall leave him in peace.” She settled back in her seat. “I’ve stayed at the Angel and Royal, though it was long ago, of course. Grantham was a regular stop for my family on our way north, until my father became angry with the innkeeper for some reason. After that, we stayed elsewhere.” She shook her head in bemusement. “The innkeeper’s name was Beaton. Strange that I remember that.”

“The present Mr. Beaton is probably the son of the one you remember.” Randall took her hand since they were private. “Was your father often angry?”

“I’m not sure he was ever
not
angry. Which made it very easy for him to be angry with me when I proved such a disgrace to the Raines family.”

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the wide stone façade of the Angel and Royal. Randall climbed from the carriage and helped Julia down. “Anger is such a tiring emotion. Refusing to patronize an excellent inn is downright foolish.”

“With friends in the north, you must make this journey often,” Julia remarked as they entered the inn and waited for the landlord to appear.

“Too often. Usually the Great North Road is a tedious blur of fields and villages and posting houses.” He grinned teasingly. “The very worst journey through England I ever made was accompanying Mariah and Ash from Hartley to London when you were acting as Mariah’s chaperone. I wanted to be anywhere else.”

She laughed. “You scowled as if you wanted
me
to be somewhere else.”

“This journey is far better since I’ve accepted my fate and married you.” His voice was still light, but his eyes were serious. “The miles are still long and roads rough, but the beds are more comfortable.”

She blushed, but smiled back. Since rejoining her in their bed, Randall had proved himself a gentleman of his word and never forced unwanted attentions on her. He’d been downright embarrassed the morning they woke and his hand was on her breast. Knowing it was an accident of the night, she’d calmly moved the hand and they’d cuddled a few more minutes before rising. The more she trusted him, the easier it was to believe that someday they might be lovers. Though not yet.

The landlord appeared, a younger man than the one Julia remembered, but with a similar affable expression. “Major Randall, how good to have you with us again. Will you be staying long?”

“Just a single night,” Randall replied. “I need a room for myself and my wife, and another room for Mr. Mackenzie, who will be here shortly.”

Mr. Beaton’s face lit with real pleasure as he bowed to Julia. “Allow me to congratulate you, Major. My felicitations, Mrs. Randall.” The landlord consulted his guest book. “You’re in luck. A large party is expected, but the corner room you like is available, and there’s a smaller room two doors down for Mr. Mackenzie.”

A heavy rumble of carriages pulling to a stop sounded outside. Julia guessed that it was the large party Mr. Beaton was expecting. As Randall signed the register, Julia removed her bonnet, thinking that with luck and good weather, they’d be in London in a day and a half. She fervently hoped so.

A grand footman entered the inn and turned to hold the door open for his master. A compact, dominating man of inbred arrogance swept into the Angel and Royal, his entourage dimly visible behind him.

Julia’s gaze met his, and she made a strangled sound, scarcely able to believe her eyes. Dear God, no! Of all the inns in England, why this one?

The newcomer stopped in his tracks as shock, disbelief, and finally fury rippled across his face. The moment stretched until he spat, “You’re supposed to be dead!”

Julia wished she could faint to escape the horror of this meeting, but there was no way out. A tremor in her voice, she said, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Father.”

The Duke of Castleton’s contemptuous gaze swept over Randall, who had turned when she spoke. “Is this your current lover, Julia?” her father sneered. “I presume you’ve been supporting yourself on your back since you’re good for nothing else.”

The virulence in his voice was like a physical blow. She swayed, on the verge of collapse. Then Randall’s large, warm hand locked onto her elbow. Eyes narrowed, he said, “You may be a duke and Julia’s father, but I will allow no man to insult my wife.”

“Did she tell you she murdered her first husband, a most distinguished young gentleman?” the duke snapped. “For all I know, she’s murdered a dozen husbands since!”

“That’s absurd and you know it,” Randall said calmly. “Any normal father would rejoice to see his long lost daughter alive, but if you were a normal father, you wouldn’t have abandoned her to cruelty. You are a disgrace to your name and lineage.”

The duke gaped at him. “How dare you, sir! Who are you?”

Randall gave a slight, mocking bow. “I’m Major Randall. If you wish satisfaction, I shall be happy to oblige you. But you should be aware that I am generally considered to be a crack shot and expert swordsman.”

The duke’s eyes narrowed. “Are you related to Daventry?”

“His nephew and heir.” Randall gave a glinting smile. “So your daughter will someday be the Countess of Daventry, but with a husband of her choice, not yours.”

His glare poisonous, the duke snarled, “Remove these creatures, Beaton. I will not stay under the same roof with them.”

The innkeeper, who had been watching with shocked fascination, said politely, “I’m sorry, your grace, but they are already registered guests. I assure you that there is no need to see them again since your rooms are at the opposite end of the house.”

The duke stared at Beaton incredulously. “You prefer their custom to
mine
?”

“I have no grounds to expel Major Randall and Lady Julia,” the innkeeper said. “And they’re courteous.” The implication that other guests weren’t was unmistakable.

“You’re as bad as your father!” the duke spat.

“I am honored by the comparison,” Beaton said, still unruffled. “I admired him in all ways.”

“I shall never set foot in this pestilential place again!” Her father’s icy gaze shifted to Julia. “I had a certain amount of respect for you when I believed you took your own life as expiation of your sins. Now I find that you’re deceitful and cowardly. You are no daughter of mine.”

The duke was pivoting to stalk from the inn when Randall said in a hard voice, “Julia is better off without such an unnatural father, Castleton. But she has property rights that cannot be denied by you. Prepare to honor those obligations. My solicitor will communicate with yours.”

Her father cast a fulminating glance over his shoulder before he slammed out of the inn, accompanied by his entourage. After a moment of vibrating silence, Beaton said mildly, “His grace stopped coming here in my father’s time but decided to give me another chance when I inherited. Once more the Angel and Royal has failed to meet ducal standards.”

“I’m sorry for the loss to your business,” Randall said.

The innkeeper shrugged. “Castleton doesn’t stop often and he has always been a difficult guest. You and your friends are frequent visitors, and always most welcome.” He returned to business. “Would you care for a private dining room tonight?”

Randall studied Julia’s face. “We shall dine in our room. I’ll order later.”

Julia nodded gratefully. She wanted nothing more than to go to ground like a hunted fox.

Randall added, “Please tell Mr. Mackenzie what happened when he arrives, but I would prefer that you not discuss the matter with anyone else.”

“Naturally one does not wish family difficulties to be made public,” Beaton murmured. “If you’ll follow me, Major, Lady Julia.”

Julia was barely aware of climbing the steps, other than that Randall’s steadying hand was on her lower back. She was not alone.

When was the last time a man had defended her?

Never.

As soon as Beaton left them alone in the spacious bedchamber, Julia turned into Randall’s arms, burying her face against his shoulder. Her slim body felt fragile. He enfolded her, wishing he could have spared her that horrific scene.

“I’m sorry you were subjected to that,” she said dully.

“You are not the one who should be offering apologies,” Randall said acerbically. He took the bonnet from her numbed fingers and tossed it on the bed. “Was your father always this bad?”

She considered. “I’m not sure. As a girl, I was too well behaved to be the target of his wrath. I seldom saw him, and when I did, he was always very stern and formal. I usually thought of him as ‘the duke,’ not as my father. I don’t think he likes females much.” A shiver went through her. “Then I went to him after Branford’s death, and he…he was vile. I hadn’t known he was capable of such viciousness.”

“I understand better now why you ran away from your life.” Randall curbed a powerful desire to go after Castleton and beat him senseless. A man really shouldn’t do that to his father-in-law, no matter how much it was deserved. Instead, he pulled the pins from Julia’s hair and combed it loose over her shoulders with his fingers. “It’s a tribute to your strength that you didn’t walk into the sea in truth.”

“I was tempted. Very tempted.” She gave a little choke of laughter. “But I was too stubborn to surrender. I’m not sure that’s the same as strength.”

“Close enough.” He began massaging her scalp with his fingertips, and was rewarded by the easing of her tight features.

“I knew my father would be outraged when I returned from the dead, but I assumed he’d learn some other way,” she said ruefully. “Unexpectedly seeing me alive brought out the worst of his nature. I suspect that much of his fury was because I’d deceived him by not really killing myself.”

“At least the worst is over now.” Randall ran a warm palm soothingly down her spine. “I doubt that even Daventry could upset you as much.”

“True.”

Since she was calmer, he asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

“Not this time.” She tightened her arms around his waist, as if she feared someone would try to pry her away from him. Randall found it most gratifying.

“Since you don’t want to send me away, I’d say you and I are making progress.” He scooped Julia up and settled onto the small sofa with her on his lap. She made a small, endearing squeak before relaxing against him, her head against his shoulder. “Castleton, Daventry, Branford. Have all the men in your life been so difficult? What about your brother?”

“Anthony? I don’t know how he’ll react to knowing I’m alive. We were close as children, but I haven’t seen him in so long. He was sent off to Eton as soon as he was old enough, and he was only fourteen when I married and left home.” She bit her lip. “I haven’t wanted to think about Anthony. He was a darling little brother, but after so many years of being Marquess of Stoneleigh, he might be as insufferable as my father.”

“What a depressing thought. I imagine you’ll find out soon.” Randall frowned. “Until now, I haven’t thought much about how you’ll deal with your family when we arrive in London. Since Stoneleigh is your closest relative, you might want to write him directly rather than let him find out from your father.”

She winced. “You’re right. I’ll send a letter to Anthony in the morning mail, though it might not reach him before he receives word from the duke. I should write my grandmother as well. I need to let her know that I’ll be calling very soon, and that she can now reveal to people that I’m alive.”

“You will be the most sensational topic in the beau monde for at least a week,” Randall predicted. “Perhaps even a whole fortnight.”

“Surely not that long.” Julia tilted her head up to look at his face. With her dark hair loose around her shoulders, she looked young and delectable. “How did you know I was entitled to family money? When I walked away, I put my inheritance out of my mind and haven’t thought of it since.”

He shrugged as his hand wandered over the soft curve of her hip. “Your mother was surely wellborn, so there must have been a marriage settlement that provided portions for all children of the union. Perhaps you’ve inherited other property as well.”

“My mother was a Howard.” Julia smiled without humor. “I have some of the bluest blood in Britain. Far superior to the Hanoverian upstarts who sit on the throne.”

So she was related to the Duke of Norfolk, the premier duke in England. Randall wasn’t surprised. “Your parents’ marriage contract probably rivaled treaties between small countries for complexity.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” A touch of dryness entered her voice. “Marrying me could prove to be very profitable, since a wife’s property belongs to her husband.”

“I don’t blame you for being wary of male motives, Julia.” Randall’s eyes narrowed as he caught her gaze. “I am quite capable of supporting a wife without your inheritance, or Daventry’s fortune. But now that I’ve met your father, I think you need to have your own money so that you will never have to feel dependent on a man again. I shall place any property pried loose from your father into a trust for your exclusive use.”

She ducked her head, her cheeks coloring. “I know you’re not a fortune hunter, Alex. Being around my father brings out my worst nature, just as I bring out his.”

“Your snappishness is nothing compared to what Daventry does to my temper,” Randall assured her. His caressing hand moved over her hip. Julia was petite, but every part was exactly right. “Didn’t you visit your grandmother when you came to London with Mariah? I assume she was on the maternal side.”

She nodded. “Grandmère is the only one in my family who knew I was alive. She was very ill earlier this year, and I feared I’d never see her again. That was much of the reason I risked going to London.”

“That visit must be how Daventry discovered you were alive, and sent Crockett after you.”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “But I’m not sorry. For all the tumult of the last weeks, I’m glad I’ll be able to live as myself again.”

Randall never would have met Julia if she’d refused to be Mariah’s chaperone. “But if you were safe in Hartley, you wouldn’t have needed to marry for protection.”

She tilted her head back and studied his face, her gray eyes serious. “You are the only man who has ever protected me,” she said softly. “The only one. I hadn’t known how much I wanted that.” She leaned up and kissed him.

It was a serious kiss with parted lips, not a formality. He responded in kind. Julia was a warm, sensual armful, and the restraint he’d been exercising since he freed her from the kidnappers began to crack as his hands moved over alluring curves.

She caught her breath. “I feel like a cat being petted.”

“And like a cat, I imagine you’ll leave when you’ve had enough.” He bent to kiss the tender skin beneath her ear. “But for now—Julia, can you trust me enough to relax and see if I can give you pleasure? Though it’s too soon to become lovers, I’d like to see if I can persuade you a few more steps in that direction.”

“My mind and body still have fears, but my heart trusts you,” she said as she raised her hand to his cheek. The light brush of her fingertips was startlingly erotic.

Clamping down on his reaction, he recaptured her lips, deepening the kiss until their tongues touched. Her hesitation began to fade and he felt the quickening of her breath. The quilted padding of her stays was firm beneath his palm. Because she was traveling, the corset was a lightweight version that ended at her waist. Which meant that when he moved his hand down her body, he felt the ripe curve of her hip and the taut length of her thigh under a mere two layers of fabric.

She tensed when his hand came to rest on her knee, so he concentrated on learning how sensitive her elegant ear was. Very, as it turned out. As he traced the edge with his tongue, she released her breath in a pleased sigh.

When his hand glided up her thigh under her skirts, he felt the faintest of tremors go through her, but she didn’t try to stop him. The smoothness of her stocking gave way to the silky warmth of female flesh.

When they were skin to skin, he again stilled his hand so she had time to get used to where it was placed. Her head fell back, her breasts rising and falling, as he trailed his lips down her throat. He felt the purr of her pleasure under his tongue.

He slid his hand between her thighs, kneading his way slowly higher. She jerked and gave a sharp gasp when he first touched the hidden heat and moisture at the juncture of her thighs. “Is this unpleasant?” he whispered as he lightly pressed the edge of his hand into the delicate folds. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Not…unpleasant,” she said unevenly. “Don’t. Stop.”

“As milady wishes.” He caressed her with increasing depth and intimacy, altering pressure and speed as her breathing grew harsher and her legs separated to allow him greater access. His own breathing was equally harsh as her excitement kindled his.

She arched her back, eyes closed, and her hips began to rock in a timeless, involuntary rhythm. “Alex…” she said, taut and needy.

Then she cried out, her nails digging into his arm and back as she convulsed around his right hand. The heat and scents of sexuality nearly overpowered him. More than anything on earth, he wanted to be joined with her, to share that wild pleasure.

Not yet, not
yet
. But there was delight and satisfaction in having brought her to this point. Surely the day was coming when he would be able to go the final step, and bury himself inside her.

She opened dazed eyes. “I didn’t know,” she breathed. “All those lusty women I’ve cared for over the years, and I never really understood what they meant when they talked about how much they desired their men.”

“This is just one step, Julia.” He kissed her damp forehead. “There are many more.” Her lovely round backside was pressed into his erection, tempting him to the outer limits of his control. He shifted, uncomfortable, but not wanting to distress Julia.

Even sated with pleasure, she was observant. She slid from his lap onto the sofa beside him, staying under his encircling arm. “I’m sorry. You made me forget about meeting my father, and in return I’m distressing you.”

He tightened his arm around her shoulders. “The distress is minor compared to the satisfaction of pleasing you.”

“Nonetheless…” Her eyes narrowed as she studied his taut breeches. Then she drew a deep breath and began to unbutton the fall.

“Dear God, Julia!” He froze, lightning searing through his veins as her fingers clasped hard, pulsing male flesh. “You…you don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” Biting her lip, she stood and moved to straddle his lap, her skirts cascading over them both. “That’s why I can.”

She eased slowly onto him, stopping with a gasp. Before he could react, she said, “I’m all right. It’s just—I’m tight and you’re large.”

She rolled her hips a little, almost sending him over the edge. His hands clamped on her hips and waves of sensation surged through his body.

When she began lowering herself again, they slid smoothly together. He was too paralyzed by shock and raging lust to move.

She leaned forward to press her cheek against his. “That wasn’t so bad.” Her voice was shaky, but determined.

“Not…not bad at all.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, sure that this intimacy was costing her a great deal. Yet he couldn’t bear for this mind-numbing, guilty ecstasy to end if she chose to pull away.

For the space of perhaps two dozen heartbeats they held each other, adjusting both physically and mentally to the irrevocable change in their marriage. Then Julia raised her face into a kiss. She filled his senses with touch and taste and scent. His wife, the fulfillment he had longed for and feared he would never find.

He wanted the moment to last forever, but she rocked against him, murmuring, “I wonder…”

He was fire and she was tinder as madness seared through him. He shattered, his mind vanquished by sensation.

The firestorm passed, and every fiber of his body vibrated with scalding awareness. “Dearest God in heaven,” he managed as he crushed her to his chest.

Julia laughed a little. “I think you’re taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

“No.” He buried his face in her dark hair. “Prayers come in many forms. You’re the answer to prayers I didn’t know I’d made.”

“That’s either powerfully romantic or borderline sacrilege.” Julia gently untangled herself so she could stand and pull two towels from the washstand.

Accepting one, he said, “I didn’t expect this to happen tonight.” He studied her face. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you?” What he really wanted to know was if she was sorry, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

His heart sank when she frowned, but when she spoke, her voice was thoughtful, not distressed. “There was some discomfort, but no more than might be expected.” She cleaned herself, then brushed her skirts down. “I’m glad that’s over. Next time will be easier.”

It was a crashingly unromantic statement, but at least she was thinking in terms of doing it again. “Next time will also be better,” he promised as he buttoned his breeches.

“Tonight was already very fine.” She raised her gaze to his and her voice warmed. “You did indeed pleasure me. Even more important, fears that possessed me for too long are gone.”

That was a good start. Feeling optimistic, he stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against his side in a hug. “Shall I order supper and a bath?”

“That would be lovely.” She turned her back to him. “Could you unfasten my gown and stays? I’m looking forward to a quiet, relaxed evening with you.” Glancing over her shoulder, she said softly, “Thank you for your kindness, Alex. For your patience.”

He went to work on the laces. “You’re worth patience, milady.”

She blushed and ducked her head. Her hair fell away from her nape so he bent and kissed it, overwhelmed by tenderness. She trusted him.

He felt truly married.