All Things Beautiful (15 page)

The smug smile no longer graced Brader’s face. He listened intently.

“Or love is like Agnes, a tenant at Danescourt, who was so hideously burned all over her body
when her cottage caught fire, she frightened children. No one knew how she survived such an ordeal save for her husband, who nursed and cared for her. One day I saw him put his arm around her, and I wondered how he could touch a woman so deformed, but later I heard him tell Chester that he didn’t see Agnes with the burn scars. And because he saw her clean and whole, the rest of us learned to look past the scars, even the children.”

Julia looked Brader directly in the eye.

“I think maybe that is what love is. Seeing beyond the scars, to the person below the surface.”

“And what about a vow, madam?” he asked, his voice low and deep. “A vow taken before God to love?”

She shook her head. “My parents took such a vow and they don’t love.” For a moment, she studied her thumbnail, working the problem in her mind. “But they also had children, and their vow did not guarantee the children love either.”

Brader’s hand surprised her by closing over the thumb she had mulled over. “What about my vows? Do you think I would treat my vows so lightly?”

She flashed her eyes up to his. His face was mere inches from her own. She gave him a ghost of a smile. “Would you take the time from your ledgers for me, Brader? Could I make a difference in your life?”

He laughed, the sound rich and alive. “Julia, if
you only knew what a difference you’ve already wrought in my life.”

Julia gave him an indignant shove and he caught her hands, pulling her close enough for him to kiss the tip of her nose. “I didn’t go to the fields today.”

Squirming against him in a feeble attempt to get away from his disturbing presence, Julia answered, “Well, at least that is something.”

“But not enough?” His grip on her tightened. “Hold still, minx.”

“I’m not a minx and, yes, I suppose I should be happy for each morsel of time you grant me.” But her words didn’t carry any heat. Nan was right. Crying did cleanse the soul. With a yawn, Julia laid her head against his broad chest, deciding he made a very fine pillow.

His hand began long strokes up and down her back. The contact felt good. Her head against his chest rose and lowered with the rhythm of his words. “And if I told you I loved you, Julia, what would you do? Throw it back in my face? Or would you use my love to your advantage?”

She went still, very still, while she pondered the possible implications of his question. Could she make Brader love her? And if she had such a strong, powerful man under her control, what would she do with his love? She answered him with a question of her own. “
Do
you love me, Brader?”

“What do you think?” The vibrancy of his voice tickled her ear against his chest. He stroked the
length of her back to the curve of her waist with one hand. It felt good.

Julia mentally shook her head. Brader was no fool. Love as she envisioned it was for simpler people. Nor could she see Brader playing at love like the shallow members of the
ton.

Brader in love. She couldn’t imagine him drooling poetry or paying courtly calls on women. He’d approach love with the same total commitment he gave his mother.

With the same commitment he gave her…even though he didn’t love her.

Julia chose not to voice those thoughts. Instead, she changed the subject. “Did you truly wait all day outside the Turners’ cottage for me?” she mumbled, sleepily.

So soft was his answer, she could have easily not heard it. “Yes.”

She sighed with contentment and spent emotion. He began moving his shoulder out from under her head.

She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to let you sleep.”

Warm and secure curled up next to him, she didn’t want to let him go. With her eyes closed, she gave him a slow, sleepy smile. “Stay with me tonight.”

Brader’s body went rigid. Julia didn’t care. Even tired, she loved the feeling of his long, muscular limbs against hers. It had been an exhausting day,
but Brader had made it right. “Please, stay with me tonight.”

His body relaxed in acceptance. Snuggling her nose against his shoulder, Julia whispered, “Thank you for waiting for me today, and for this.” She tightened her hold against his body. She never heard his response but gave in to her exhaustion. Her last thought was a dream of what life would be like if Brader really did love her.

The chill in the morning air licked at her nose and shoulders. Under the covers, Julia burrowed deeper toward the source of warmth. She started to drift off to sleep again, until her legs meshed and rubbed against other legs—strong hairy ones.

Julia’s eyes shot open, all her senses alert. She bolted upright. Beside her Brader stirred and reached for the bedclothes to pull over his naked body.

Naked! And she wore only her chemise and hose.

Julia’s blood froze and then melted as she remembered yesterday’s events. Well, at least this time she knew for a fact Brader had undressed her. How could he possibly have accomplished it without her knowledge, when now every fiber, every breath of her being, was aware of the broad-shouldered man filling her bed?

Gingerly, Julia lay back down on the pillow. She lay stiffly for five minutes until she realized Brader was not going to wake. Her head turned so that she could study him.

He slept deeply, his features relaxed and natural in the early morning light. She rolled her body toward him, tossing the tangled curls of her hair over one shoulder. She held the sheet modestly in place with her arms. On impulse, she reached out her hand and traced his bottom lip with her finger. His lips twitched, a movement that delighted her. She stifled a giggle.

She leaned closer and, in doing so, pressed her thigh against his naked leg. Julia drew in a quick breath. She did not move. Instead, she watched his face in repose, waiting for him to awake.

He slept on. Julia didn’t know how he did it. Certainly she was very aware of him. Her breasts tightened and expanded against the soft material of her chemise. The place where their bodies met burned, reminding her of the night in the study. Her cheeks flamed with a sudden heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

But then, being naked in bed with Brader wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Julia slid her leg down his. He slept on peacefully, while such a vivid image of Brader kissing her on the study desk, his body looming over and entering hers, conjured itself in her mind, Julia thought she would ignite from the passion of it. She rolled away from him, her breathing fast and shallow.

Brader moved—she held her breath waiting for him to wake—but only to wrap the covers around his shoulders and hug the pillow closer to his head, a boyishly masculine movement.

Julia rolled onto her stomach, her hair falling in a wild, wanton halo around her head. He’d combed his fingers through it last night, attempting to right her errant curls, much as a mother touches and soothes a child.

And they’d talked of love. But it wasn’t poetic love, something connected to the heavens and stars, that she thought about now. Her mind roiled with memories of the feelings he had inspired the night in the study and Emma’s promises of pleasure between a man and a woman.

Did she dare? After all, she had yet to see him nude, giving him several advantages over her—although she couldn’t think of one immediately, other than her personal satisfaction.

She grinned with mischievous curiosity. Oh, she dared all right! Her hand lifted the bedclothes.

The space between them under the covers was dark, too dark to make out anything distinctly. She lifted the cover higher to let in more light. Brader’s knees were bent slightly between their bodies. Julia stifled a giggle, afraid to lift the bed cover higher and risk waking him.

And then she saw it, the part of him he’d used to join their bodies together. It had to be, and yet it certainly looked harmless now, a flash of soft whiteness in the shadowy depths of the bedclothes.

She watched in amazement as the softness left and his manhood started to stretch, harden, and grow before her eyes with a life all its own, for the rest of Brader hadn’t stirred an inch but lay in calm
repose. With an alarmed gasp, Julia dropped the cover, then threw a quick glance to Brader’s face—and froze.

Eyes with the lights of a thousand devils dancing in their depths met and bored in to hers. A sly, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he whispered, “Have you decided you want to earn something more than roses?”

H
er heart stopped beating. Mesmerized by his laughing dark eyes, Julia couldn’t even blink an eyelash, let alone think coherently.

And then, moving his lips toward hers, Brader kissed her, searching at first and then delving deeper, asking more of her.

His hand reached to capture hers beneath the sheets. Carrying it to his side, he pressed her hand against the smooth warmth of his flesh. When Julia responded, her fingers stroking the smooth muscles banding his ribs, Brader pulled their bodies closer together, his arms wrapping around her waist.

Julia decided kissing was a very pleasurable activity, especially when the kisses had the power to shake the world to its very foundations, like Brader’s were doing right now.

He tugged at her hand, urging it downward, between their bodies.

Lulled by the stroke and play of their tongues,
she didn’t realize what was happening until her fingers, guided by his hand, touched a velvety hardness. A faint knocking on a door somewhere out in the hallway startled her, making her aware of her surroundings, and exactly what Brader wanted her to touch!

She’d rather touch a hot poker. Julia yanked her hand back but Brader quickly caught it. He broke the kiss only to nibble his way to her ear, where he whispered, “Touch me. Please, Julia, touch me.” His lips again captured hers, his kiss intense and pleading.

Her resistance melted with the first whispered plea of his vibrant baritone. She stroked him. Brader moaned.

Her fingers flew open. “Did I hurt you?”

Brader rushed his hand down to capture hers again. “No!” he said, with a catch in his breath. “It doesn’t hurt.” His voice shook slightly. “Please, Julia, just…keep touching…me this…way.”

Julia slid him a speculative look from beneath her lashes. “You like this?” The breathlessness in her own voice surprised her.

His eyes burned like smoldering coals. “I
love
this,” he admitted, his dimples winking at her. “But I’m not taking very good care of you, am I?” He raised a hand to caress her breast. Lowering his head, his mouth covered the nipple and suckled it through the thin chemise material.

She’d die from the ecstasy of it. Unbidden, her hand tightened around his body.

Brader gasped against her breast, his hand immediately transferring down to cover her hand. In a strangled voice, laced with a hint of laughter, he cautioned, “Julia, be careful.”

Confused by passion, she asked, “Did I hurt you?”

He smiled, teeth flashing white and even, eyes twinkling. “That’s my life you hold in your hand, love.”

Julia’s mouth formed a silent Oh, not truly understanding what he meant. She started to remove her hand but Brader pressed it back to him.

He gave the tip of her nose a light kiss. “Stroke me, Julia. Touch me again. It feels good.”

“It does?” Cautiously, she felt the length and breadth of him.

“Yes, it does.” Brader’s deep voice purred before he kissed her so thoroughly her mind drained of all conscious thought. His hand encouraged hers to stroke him again in the pattern he liked. The still functioning portion of her brain hoped he’d turn his attention back to her breast.

He didn’t.

Instead, his hand smoothed down the long lines of her thigh before sweeping upward, his fingers slipping intimately between her legs. Julia gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth against hers. He went farther, slipping his fingers through the slit in her cotton and lace drawers, and touched her.

Desire, wild wicked desire, pulsed through her. Brader blazed a trail of kisses over her chin and down her neck to bury his face between her
breasts. Julia whimpered, the sound of pleasure echoing in the room. Shamelessly, her body arched up against his hand.

“I want to be inside you.” His husky voice flowed through her senses.

“Inside…me?”

“Yes,” he answered. His lips now teased her earlobe. “Let me make love to you, Julia. Open yourself to me.”

Instinct drove Julia to move her legs apart—

There came a quick light knock on the door, so routine she barely registered it on her consciousness until the door started to open. Panic. “Betty,” she gasped.

Brader, quicker than she, grabbed the coverlet to throw over them even while growling, “Don’t come in. Go away.”

The little maid gave a startled shriek. Her face turned a lush, vivid red and she began apologizing profusely. Backing out of the room, she shut the door firmly.

Julia and Brader both stared at the door while Betty’s heels could be heard hurriedly clicking down the hall. Mortified, Julia couldn’t speak. Her face burned the same shade of red as Betty’s. She started to move out from under Brader.

His embrace tightened around her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Embarrassed, Julia forced her eyes up to meet his grin. “We have to get up. The servants will talk.”

Brader’s eyes opened wide, and then he burst out in laughter.

She frowned.

In answer to her silent censure, he explained. “Julia, the servants are probably talking because they
haven’t
found me in your bed before now.” He lowered his head and nibbled the sensitive skin of her neck, reminding her of exactly where they were before being interrupted. His voice moved with the languor of warm honey. “As their employers, we have an obligation to give them something good to talk about.”

Her resistance evaporated. She whispered his name, a sound Brader caught with a deep searching kiss. His fingers returned to their slow sensuous stroking. Again, Julia’s legs opened to receive him.

Brader reached for her hand and wrapped her fingers around him. This time, she didn’t wait for coaxing but began caressing, matching the rhythm he set within her.

His kiss deepened, intensified. Julia wondered at each wave of new sensation he created inside her. She pressed her body closer to his, reveling in the beat of his heart, the rough masculinity of his morning-whiskered jaw, the clean spicy scent of his skin.

With a ticklish flick of his tongue, Brader broke their kiss and rolled on top of her, supporting his upper body with his muscular arms. He settled himself between her legs. Bending down to touch
his forehead against hers, he spoke softly. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

“I think I will too,” Julia gasped, her words turning into a moan as Brader’s knowledgeable fingers trailed up over the sensitive points of her body. Her hand still wrapped around him gave a squeeze in response to exquisite pleasure.

“Guide me to you, Julia. Let me love you,” Brader pleaded gently.

She pulled him down to her, where her senses craved, begged to be touched. Gone was the fear of the night in the study. Now. She wanted him now. Brader’s fingers helped her by opening the slit of her undergarments.

“You can untie…my…drawers,” Julia panted.

She could hear the smile in his voice as he whispered in her ear, “But this is so much more exciting.”

Julia didn’t know if “exciting” was the right word; wondrous, amazing, electrifying all sprang to mind.

And then words were eclipsed by the first tentative probe of his flesh against hers. “Oh, sweet Julia!” His words sounded like a prayer.

She answered his prayer, her body arching up toward him—

The loud rap at the door made Julia jump. She left Brader little choice but to jump with her. He gave a strange cry: half alarm, half moan.

“Brader! Brader, you have a meeting with the
War Ministry and Perceval today.” Hardwell knocked again. “Please, I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’ve been looking for you for the past two hours. We must be on the road immediately.”

Brader muttered against her neck, “I told you no one expected me to be here.” The harried knocking continue.

“Damn you, William. I hear you! Go away!” Brader roared.

Hardwell was not to be dissuaded. He pounded harder on the door. “Brader, he’s the Prime Minister. Even if you leave immediately, you’ll keep him waiting for an hour.”

“I know who he is, damn you.” Brader rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. His chest heaved with each labored breath. Julia watched as Brader fought to bring his emotions under firm control.

He rolled on his side to stare at her with intent dark-brown eyes. Slowly, his mouth curved into a heart-stopping smile. Julia parted her lips in invitation. After all, what had the Prime Minister ever done for her?

He lifted his body up on one elbow and gave her a rueful shake of his head. “It’s not to be now, love.” He bent over her and delivered a mind-scrambling kiss. In the background, Hardwell continued to knock on the door. “I’ll be back, and when I come back, we will finish this properly.”

Julia knitted her brows together. “Don’t leave.”

“I must. You heard William. I do have a meeting
with the War Ministry and the Prime Minister this afternoon.” In one fluid movement, he rose from the bed.

“Brader,” she protested.

“I must go, love. Someone has to try and talk sense into Perceval. Napoleon’s blockade is killing British exports, and matters will grow worse if Perceval lets us slip into war with the Americans.” His gaze swept over her. He sighed. “You’re a sailor’s dream, all rosy and ripe for loving. Who would have thought Lady Julia…” He didn’t finish. Picking up his bedclothes, he pulled the covers up to her neck. “If I keep seeing you this way, I’ll order William to tell the Prime Minister to go hang himself.”

Wide-eyed, she admired his strong body as he pulled on his trousers. The sweet desire his touch had inspired died to a bittersweet ache. She felt unfulfilled, dissatisfied…crazed with longing without a clue as to what she desired. “Brader?”

He gave an impatient glance to the door, where Hardwell still knocked frantically, before turning toward her. Julia caught him off guard, rising up to loop her arms around his neck and kiss him. She wanted him to come back and poured everything she couldn’t say and didn’t understand about herself into the one long, hard kiss, heedless of Hardwell’s knocks on the door.

Brader pressed her back on the bed. Removing her arms from his neck, he spread them out on the pillow beside her head. “I’ll be back,” he promised
solemnly, his intense gaze blazing with the same unfulfilled passion Julia recognized in herself. “And when I come back, Mrs. Wolf”—he said each word in a low passionate undertone—“we are going to finish this.”

Julia gave him a dazzling smile. “We will? Are you certain? Perhaps Napoleon will ask an audience, or the King—”

Brader silenced her teasing with a hard, sweet kiss.

When he pulled away, Julia had wit enough only to ask, “When do you return?”

Brader grinned. “That’s more like it. I’ll be home tomorrow in time for supper.” He gave her neck a quick nibble. “And we’ll start right here.”

She giggled with delight as Brader stood, pulled the covers up under her chin, and walked toward the door, opening on Hardwell in mid-knock. The secretary took one look at his employer’s face, caught a glance of Julia in the bed, and blushed beet red. He started to stutter apologies, but another look at Brader’s face appeared to convince him an apology would be unaccepted. He closed his mouth, ducked his head, and quickly walked down the hall.

Looking back over his shoulder, Brader gave her a conspirator’s wink. She smiled back, her spirits soaring for no other reason than Brader’s smile.

“Brader,” her soft voice stopped him before he left the room. “Don’t forget to tell Hardwell to schedule our riding lessons.”

Brader rounded on her sharply, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Riding lessons?”

Julia nodded.

His eyes gleamed with amusement as his body relaxed against the doorframe. “Ah, Julia.” He sighed. “You are such an innocent little siren.” He leered at her, his manner teasing. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure I get my riding lessons in.” He left, closing the door.

All the sunshine and warmth left the room with him.

Julia sighed. The sound was followed by a timid knock on her door.

Betty waited for her mistress to call “Come in” before she turned the door handle.

Keeping her eyes averted, Betty bobbed up and down, apologizing. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I knew you wanted to attend the meeting with the parson’s wife, and I thought mayhap—”

“Oh, no! Betty! What time is it? I forgot all about the Ladies’ League.” Julia sat straight up in bed, her mind buzzing over the implications of ignoring Mrs. Jenkins’s very kind invitation on the first meeting.

“Well, lor’, ma’am, you’re half dressed already. Besides, it’s only nine and you told me your meeting was for ten. We’ll have you ready in a blink.”

Looking down at herself, still clad in chemise, drawers, and hose, Julia fell to the bed with a plop. Her cheeks burned with the memory of
Brader’s hands and all the intimate places he’d touched while, the whole time, she was still clothed. “Yellow.”

Betty stopped. “I beg pardon, ma’am?”

Julia tilted her head and announced, “Yellow. I want to wear something yellow.”

“But, ma’am, no one wears yellow in November. It’s an Easter color.”

“Yes!” Julia agreed, suddenly filled with joy. “That’s what I want, a yellow the color of jonquils and spring.” She climbed out of bed to cross over to her wardrobe. “And if I don’t have anything yellow, I want something pink or violet or the color of new spring grass.”

“Ma’am, I don’t think you have those colors in your wardrobe,” Betty worried.

Julia laughed, a sound as rich and warm as Brader’s laughter. “I will before the day is out, Betty. Send a note to the seamstress and then help me pick out something special for Mrs. Jenkins’s meeting.”

Julia enjoyed her first meeting with the Ladies’ League. Mrs. Jenkins quickly made her feel like a member of the group. It helped that the projects undertaken by the league, the sponsorship of a local school and an emergency fund for parish families, were goals near and dear to Julia.

Turning down Mrs. Jenkins’s kind offer to stay for luncheon, Julia discovered herself anxious to be home. Fisher informed her at the door that an
appointment with the village dressmaker had been set for two o’clock that afternoon.

In appreciation for the message, she gave him a brilliant smile, surprised when the staid Fisher’s cheeks flushed pink. Fisher was starting to unbend toward his mistress. This day was perfect. In that pleasant frame of mind, Julia climbed the stairs and walked back to Nan’s room.