Glorious sunshine greeted her. Closing the door carefully, Julia lifted her face to the warmth. Birds chirped, the trees rustled pleasantly, and the steady, comforting clop of horse’s hooves rang on the cobblestone road. It was a perfect day.
Smiling, she settled the chip straw bonnet on her head and found the bright cherry ribbons that dangled to each side. The only thing that would make the day more perfect would be Alec, claiming his kiss.
If she closed her eyes again, she could imagine his touch where the sunlight warmed her cheek. He would take her in his arms and kiss her until she fought for breath. For a long moment, she allowed herself to float in the dream until the clattering of a carriage brought her back to reality.
“Enough of that,” she muttered to herself, adjusting the shawl of Spanish lace across her shoulders. “You’d do well to forget last night even occurred.”
Alec would awaken this morning with a raging headache and no memory of her visit, anyway. Julia sighed and began to tie her bonnet, mulling over her lamentable tendency to yearn for things she did not have.
"And where are we on to, this bright morning?" A deep, masculine voice broke her reverie.
Julia
froze,
hands mid-bow. Alec leaned against the wheel of his phaeton, his handsome face shadowed by the brim of his hat. Freshly shaven and immaculately dressed, he looked sinful, dangerous, and handsome.
Her first instinct was to turn and retreat into the house. Or at the least, change into the cherry muslin morning dress she’d just bought. Why, oh why, had she worn the green striped cambric? She caught his questioning gaze and blushed. “I thought you’d still be asleep.”
“Is that why you were sneaking out of the house like a thief?”
“I was not sneaking.”
He lifted his brows in polite disbelief. The sun lit the sensual curve of his mouth—the same mouth that had so easily claimed hers, stealing her every thought, her every breath, until there was only the drugging taste of Alec.
Julia discovered she had tied her bow far tighter than she’d intended. She loosened the ribbons hastily. “I didn’t wish to bother the servants.” Or to allow them to bother her, which was much more to the point.
“Were you going unescorted?”
The deceptively polite tone put Julia on edge. She eyed him warily. “I was going to call a hackney.”
In one lithe, fluid movement, he pushed himself away from the phaeton and stood before her, the very picture of towering masculine impatience. “You are not to travel alone, Julia.”
She took a prudent step back. “I always took Johnston whenever I visited Whitechapel, but I am not going there today.”
At least, not now.
Alec stared down at her, his jaw taut. This close, Julia could see that his eyes were faintly shadowed, the lines by his mouth carved deeper than usual. Yet the marks of dissipation did little more than sharpen his already handsome features.
Julia thought of how she would have looked had she had as little sleep and as much brandy as he. It was not fair. She sniffed. “If you think to intimidate me by glaring, I should warn you it will have no effect. I am quite used to glaring. In fact, hardly a day goes by that I am not glared at by someone.”
“I am not surprised,” he returned grimly.
Well, that was rude. Glancing up at him through her lashes, Julia wisely decided not to pursue it. “I really must be off. Please summon a hackney.” She was proud of how cool and commanding she sounded even though her pulse beat wildly. “Lady Birlington is to arrive at two and I have dozens of things to do before then.”
Alec’s gaze narrowed. “Then we, madam, will do them together. In the future, you will not leave the house without an escort, or you will answer to me.”
At his proprietary tone, Julia glared back. “You cannot tell me what to do.”
He leaned forward, and six feet of delectable male blocked the sun. “Don’t tempt me, Julia.”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She just stared, her heart fluttering like a caged bird, her entire body agonizingly aware of his.
Her expression must have given something away, for Alec’s gaze darkened. Heedless of where they stood, he reached out and grasped her arms, his fingers pressing into the tender flesh above her elbows. “Julia, why did you marry me?”
The question seemed to surprise him as much as it did her, for he dropped his hands and took a startled step back.
Every move he made to distance himself confirmed Julia’s fears. She only prayed he had not seen too much. “You know why I married you.” She forced a light laugh. “The same reason you married me—for the fortune.”
For a long instant he stared down at her, his gaze shadowed by the brim of his hat. Then, without another word, he turned and opened the door of the phaeton and pulled out the steps. “Get in.”
Her chest felt as if a huge rock had been placed upon it. Julia twisted the strings of her reticule and wondered miserably how things had gotten so muddled. “Perhaps I should find Johnston.” Though the old groom might be dour-faced and grim, she’d prefer him to this too handsome stranger who scowled at her as if for two pence he’d happily wring her neck.
“Johnston is attempting to set the stables to rights.” Alec reached out and unceremoniously lifted her into the phaeton.
Julia snatched her hand away as soon as she was certain she would not tumble to the ground. “I should get a hackney. I have dozens of things to do before this evening and you’ll—”
“Accompany you,” he said briefly and climbed in beside her. His thigh brushed against hers as he loosened the reins and flicked at the lead horse with the whip. The horses sprang forward and soon they were bowling down the wide lane.
Julia clasped her hands in her lap and searched desperately for a safe topic of conversation. “I’m surprised to see you looking so awake. Last night you seemed…” She wondered what the polite term would be. “Ill,” she finally said.
“Drunk,” he said with a dark glance.
“Edmund calls it ‘a trifle to let.’ ”
“I was more than a trifle, Julia. Trust me on that score.”
Trust him? Of course she trusted him. Hadn’t she married him, helped him regain his grandfather’s fortune, and dedicated herself to helping him defeat his rakish tendencies?
Though if last night was any indication, she was failing miserably.
A dog darted into the street and the horses reared, kicking against the traces. Alec half stood, his feet planted wide as he forced the bays to settle. Gripping the edge of the seat, Julia found herself at eye level with Alec’s thigh, marvelously encased in fawn-colored breeches.
Heavens, Aunt Maddie was right. Men
were
wearing their breeches tighter every year, and it certainly was a disgrace. Yet somehow Julia could not dredge up a single morsel of regret, only a breathless admiration and an overwhelming desire to touch that beautiful thigh, to splay her hands across the rock-hard muscles that flexed within inches of her mouth and taste the warmth of his skin and— Alec resumed his heat and set the horses back in motion. He turned the phaeton off the main thoroughfare. “I assume you wished to visit Bond Street first.”
It took all of her powers of concentration to remove her gaze from the rippling muscles of his thigh. “Oh, yes. Shopping,” she said, her voice sounding husky even to her own ears. “I am going shopping.”
He glanced sideways at her, his silver gaze curious. “What item do you so desire that you would rise at dawn?”
Glad for the excuse to turn her face away, Julia tilted her head back to look at the sparkling sky. “It is at least nine o’clock, to judge by the sun.” She smiled, the beauty of the day warming her to her toes. “My father used to awaken at six every morning.”
Alec noted how her eyes shimmered behind her spectacles, the verdant green flecked with gold. The lashes curled lushly and cast shadows over her cheeks and the sun kissed the honey of her hair to gold. God, but she was lovely.
She turned those amazing eyes on him. “My father and mother would sit on the front steps every morning and watch the sun rise.” A dimple hovered in her cheek. “I think it was just an excuse to be alone, but Father would never admit it.”
Alec tried to remember something of his own mother, but all he could recall were tears and clinging arms that weighted his shoulders even now. He shrugged the uncomfortable feeling aside. “Your parents were unique.”
“They loved one another,” she said simply.
For the barest instant, Alec found himself envying the love Julia’s parents had shared. He grimaced. He was just tired from yet another sleepless night.
Blithely unaware of the turmoil she caused, Julia pulled a list from her reticule. “I need blue ribbons and a rose-colored scarf.” She glanced up at him and chuckled. “The scarf is for Aunt Maddie. She won’t admit it, but she has a tendre for Admiral Hutchins. Just yesterday I heard him say how lovely she looked in her pink pelisse, and I thought this would be just the thing to thank her for her help.”
Alec could only smile at such an enchanting confidence.
Color bloomed in Julia’s cheeks and she hastily turned back to her list. “Oh, and we must choose some livery for Muck. It will make him feel much more important.”
“Important?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied, earnestly. “Children are not so very different from adults. We all need a purpose, something to believe in and work toward. It keeps us from becoming selfish.”
Alec frowned and turned the horses toward Bond Street. Frankly, he couldn’t think of a single thing he believed in. His gaze fell on Julia’s bent head as she tucked her list back into her reticule. The straw bonnet sat crooked, and she’d tied the ribbon in a huge, lopsided bow that threatened to come undone at any moment. To his surprise, he heard himself say, “Perhaps there is one thing I believe in.”
“Only one?”
She looked disappointed. “I believe in all sorts of things.”
“Do you?”
“Oh, yes.” She counted off on her fingers. “I believe there is good in all people, if they only have the opportunity to show it. I believe everyone has a duty to help their fellow man. I believe children are the most precious resource of society. And I believe in lo—” She halted and bit her lip, her face flaming bright pink.
“Love,” he finished for her. “Like your parents‘.”
She nodded, the bow slipping completely free. Twin cherry ribbons framed her face as her generous mouth curved in a tender smile. “They had true love. The kind you read about in books.”
He looked at her and his heart squeezed painfully. “There is no such thing as true love.”
With the quiet dignity he had so come to admire, she answered, “It is the only kind I will accept.”
Fighting back an absurd sense of disappointment, Alec fell silent and concentrated on guiding the phaeton through traffic.
For the rest of the day he was careful to keep the conversation light, though he was annoyingly aware of her. Every move she made served to remind him of the scene in his study the night before—of the feel of her in his arms, the scent of her,
the
taste of her mouth beneath his. She, on the other hand, seemed to think nothing of the incident, for by neither word nor action did she betray any hint it held some meaning for her.
By the time Alec pulled the phaeton to the curb in front of the house, he was grimly determined to remind her of her promise. With great restraint, he handed her down from the carriage and followed her in.
Once in the foyer, he closed the door and leaned against it, watching her intently. She untied her bonnet and pulled it from her head, shaking her curls free. One lock of hair stayed mashed to her head while another looped out in a messy bump.
It was, simply, too much. He shoved himself from the door. “You’ve forgotten something, love.”
She looked down at her reticule,
then
checked the bandbox that swung from her other hand. “No, I have everything here.”
He stepped closer, placing a hand on the wall just above her head. ‘There is the little matter of your daily forfeit
.“
Her eyes widened, and Alec witnessed something akin to fear in the velvety depths. He almost took a step back, chagrined to have inspired that look. Had he been more violent last night than he’d thought? Perhaps his passion had overwhelmed her, though that seemed impossible when he remembered her response. Mayhap she feared both his passion and her own.
Strangely, the thought encouraged him. Taking his galloping lust under firm control, Alec lifted a hand to her face. He lightly traced the curve of her cheek, allowing his fingertips to linger just beside her mouth.
Her lips parted and her eyes half closed, her breath sliding between her white teeth in shallow gasps. With a
thunk
, the bandbox hit the floor and rolled to the corner.
Alec trailed his hand from her mouth to her chin. Leaning forward ever so slowly, he slid his lips across her smooth jaw to the delicate skin right below her ear. She shivered, one hand coming up to clutch at his lapel. Alec closed his eyes and forced himself to end the tortuous kiss with a soft touch of his lips and no more. Then he stepped away, fighting with every breath to maintain his control.
Julia’s hand fell to her side and she stared at him, her gaze filled with yearning.
It was exactly the expression he had hoped to see. He would woo her slowly until she came to know and trust him. He would show her that there was more to life than the illusion of true love. There was the release and beauty of passion.
For now, that would have to be enough. “You had best change before Lady Birlington arrives.”
Julia blinked as if she’d just awakened from a deep, dream-filled sleep.
“Who?”
“Lady Birlington,” he repeated gently. He took her hand and pulled her forward, stopping to gather the lost bandbox. He placed it in her hand and led her to the bottom of the stairs. “Shall I send Mrs. Winston to your room with some tea?”
Like a sleepwalker, Julia nodded and began a dreamy climb up the steps, weaving ever so slightly as she went,
one
hand still on the place his lips had just left. Alec watched her go, admiring the hypnotic sway of her hips. At the top, she stopped and looked down.