All Things Beautiful (13 page)

“Oh, no, Julia, I’ve decided only you can provide it.”

And on that cryptic answer, he shut the door.

J
ulia woke in stages. Her head felt heavy, her tongue fuzzy. She had the strong urge to polish her teeth and sweeten her breath.

Sitting upright to act on the urge, she discovered her mistake. Her head pounded. The room whirled around her. Groaning, she lay back down on her pillow until the pounding subsided.

Frantically she raked her memory. What had she done last night to make her feel so horrid?

The wine!

Julia groaned and rolled her face into her pillow. She didn’t feel sick, but she didn’t feel well. Scanning her mind, she discovered gaps in her memory of her evening with Brader. She remembered sitting at the table and the bit of nonsense over moving her place setting toward her husband.

They’d talked…but she wasn’t completely sure what they discussed.

She sat up again, this time moving slower than she had during her first attempt, and found the
room and its furniture stayed in place. Looking around the bedroom, Julia noticed the blue velvet dress lying in a heap on the floor next to her dresser. By the looks of it, whoever removed the dress had not been gentle.

Her cheeks flamed with color.

Had she been intimate with Brader and couldn’t remember? Racking her mind, Julia tried to remember anything she could of the previous evening.

A vague memory pulled at her consciousness: Brader carrying her in his arms up the stairs. Her gaze shot down to the old flannel nightgown she was wearing. Obviously, there were important pieces of her memory missing.

She rang for Betty before gingerly placing her feet on the floor. The room didn’t whirl, but Julia didn’t like her decided headache.

Betty popped into her mistress’s room, with a cheery brightness Julia could easily wish to the devil, and her arms filled with dark red roses. “Oh, lor’, ma’am, I thought you would never ring. Have you ever seen the like?”

The blooms were lush and beautiful. There had to be at least two dozen. “And these are just the ones that survived the trip,” Betty said.

Dumbfounded, Julia accepted the roses from the maid into her arms, repeating, “Trip?”

“Aye, the master sent out riders to London last night with express orders to buy roses for you. Jeremy, one of the footmen, heard him say it. He told
me Master Wolf ordered them to go to every hothouse in London, ring the owners out of their beds, and buy every rose they could find for his lady to have first thing in the morning.” Betty crossed to the window and pulled back the heavy drapes, letting in the morning sunshine. “Lor’, it’s a lovely day. It always is after a rain.”

Betty leaned forward, looking out the window with sudden interest.

“There’s Master Wolf now.”

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.