For the Love of a Soldier (47 page)

She knew what they asked about her, too. The question circulated in the same hushed stage whispers.
What is wrong with her
?

Of course, the fault had to lie with
her
. After all, Bedford was a duke, practically anointed royalty, perched at the pinnacle of the revered aristocratic pyramid. Toss in young, handsome,
and rich, and who dared to question such sterling credentials? No one.

Except Julia.

And she knew the answers—or at least most of them.

Today she vowed to get the rest.

Julia tightened her hands on the reins and dug her heel into Constance’s flank, leaning low over her sidesaddle and streaking across the field. She relished the bite of the wind against her cheeks, the whip of it through her riding habit, the feel of freedom it gave her. The sense of purpose, for today she had a purpose.

Edmund was back in Hertfordshire. Spotted in town. Her damn duke, for that was her name for him these days. Still evoked with affection, but lacking the reverence she had used when he had been her Beautiful Bedford or her Earnest Edmund. After all, there was a price to pay for his paucity of visits, letters, and of course, those nasty rumors he never deigned to squelch. “Damn duke,” she muttered. But he was still
her
damn duke, and today, she vowed to remind him of it.

Julia didn’t know what made her take the shortcut through Lakeside Manor, which abutted her father’s estate. Despite the scenic views overlooking the lake, the charred, skeletal remains of the burned-out manor house were haunting. Black timbers rose up like a plaintive plea to the heavens to rebuild. A riotous mass of untamed weeds, ferns, and brambles snaked, weaved, and climbed over the sandstone foundation and crumbling brick walls like wild decorations breathing life into the desolate landscape.

She didn’t understand why Edmund hadn’t razed the estate to the ground. The property had come from his mother’s side of the family and had only been inhabited a few weeks each summer. Edmund had never cared for it, so why let it sit and rot over the past decade, a morose symbol of loss?

She shuddered and reined in Constance, coming to a halt on a bluff overlooking the remains. The site held a macabre fascination for her. How could it not, tangled up in so many childhood memories? Those were the days when Edmund had been beautiful. And she had been happy.

She shook her head, bemused.
Had been happy?
One would think she heeded the rumors about her. Well, she was not quite
ready for a silver-tipped walking cane, and she
was
happy. Planned to be happier if her courage didn’t desert her. But still, her gaze drifted back to those stark, bleak, ghostly timbers, and she frowned.

“Bleak, but still beautiful.”

Julia started at the words, her sudden movement irritating Constance, who grunted, tossed her mane, and danced back a step. Julia leaned over to rest a calming hand on the mare’s neck as she turned to confront the intruder. Her heart thudded and her mouth went bone dry.

Edmund
.

Her damn duke.

Tall and lean, he stood in the shadows of the copse of trees framing the back perimeter of the manor house. As she straightened, he moved forward and into the sunlight. A few months had passed since she had last seen him, and she drank in the changes to his appearance.

He looked thinner, his hair unfashionably longer and lighter than she remembered. Thick, wavy, and golden brown, it curled over the collar of his crisp, white shirt. His black riding jacket hugged his lean frame, the tight fit of his buff-colored trousers accentuating his muscular thighs and long legs as he strode toward her with an easy grace.

A gust of wind lifted a stray lock of hair from his forehead, and her gaze roved over his handsome features, the strong jaw, the sharp cheekbones and that enigmatic cleft denting his chin. But it was his eyes that were so arresting, being a rich, deep moss green. Edmund was vain and clever enough to appreciate their asset, spearing many a maiden’s heart with a well-aimed look.

He stopped a few feet away, and Julia found her own heart endangered when those eyes locked on her. Her breath caught at his expression. Never before had he studied her with such intensity, looking at her as if she were some ghostly apparition or as if he were seeing her for the first time. She squelched the urge to shift in her saddle, like so many giggling, twittering maids did under his regard. There were advantages to being older. She rarely giggled and had never twittered.

“Julia.” His lips curved into a slow, devastating smile.

She blinked. What game was he playing now? Edmund
liked his games. More so, he liked to win. Well, today she refused to play—or at least by his rules.

“You’re beautiful. I knew you would be,” he said.

She stared at him, bemused at his words, wondering if he was seeking to undermine her with that dangerous charm of his. When he chose to wield it, it was lethal. She cursed the heat climbing her neck and the traitorous leap of her pulse. Today, he’d need more than charm to derail her. “We need to talk.”

He paused and raised a brow at her words, but then nodded. “That we do.” He strode forward, “May I?’ He lifted his hands, but waited for her to acquiesce before moving closer to assist her in her dismount.

She unhooked her knee from the pommel and nearly gasped at the touch of his hands on her waist, the cotton fabric of her burgundy riding jacket but a thin barrier between them. Her gloved fingers curled over his sturdy shoulders, bracing herself as he easily lifted and set her on her feet before him. Rather than step back as a gentleman should, he stood inches away, staring down at her with a rather odd and un-Edmund-like smile curving those sensuous lips.

Her body temperature, already elevated from his earlier scrutiny, climbed another degree. She had forgotten how tall he was, almost a foot taller than she. She had to tip her head back to meet that mesmerizing smile of his. When she did, her heart took another leap.

Good lord, he was beautiful.

He stood so close that she could smell sandalwood soap and a hint of some musky, masculine cologne. She blinked. This would not do. Betrothed or not, they were not married and they were unchaperoned, for she had refused a companion for this private affair.

She retreated a few steps, putting distance between them. “I will start.”

He looked surprised and then amused. “You always did like to go first.”

The comment, delivered with warm amusement, further disconcerted her. He really was not behaving like himself. “Yes, well, they do say ladies first.”

He grinned. “So they do.”

She paused at his manner. Charming and impatient were
Edmund’s usual postures toward her, confounding traits, as they compelled or repelled her depending on which mood she confronted at the time. She was not as familiar with this Edmund and hoped this would not complicate matters. However, things needed to be said and as her damn duke had the uncanny habit of disappearing for long periods of time, she was determined to seize the moment. Enough time had been lost.

“You do know that my father is no longer grieving the loss of my mother, Jonathan has turned a robust five, and Emily is doing much, much better, so I think—”

“I’m glad.”

At his interruption, she paused.

“I’m glad to hear about your father and Emily. I didn’t know her fiancé, but grieving over the loss of a loved one is always a difficult journey.”

She frowned.
Difficult?
The word was too tame a description for her sister’s bedridden breakdown after Jason’s death at Waterloo. However, that
was
so like Edmund. He had never liked to discuss Emily’s “illness,” as he referred to it. Back on familiar footing, she continued. “Yes, well, now that my family’s concerns and my obligations have lightened, I think we are finally…” She paused to swallow, her words caught in her throat. “What I mean to say is…” She trailed off, and heat climbed her neck.

She might have acted impetuously upon hearing Edmund was in town. She should have taken time to collect her thoughts and prepare a proper speech. Usually the man took the lead in such matters, so she was at a loss as to how to proceed. And her damn duke appeared to have no intentions of rescuing her.

He watched her with a slightly amused expression on his handsome features, looking as if he enjoyed her discomfiture. Maybe she should have left this meeting to her father. She gritted her teeth. No, because by the time he got around to addressing the matter, she would need that silver-tipped cane to assist her to hobble to the altar.

She began to pace as she groped for a proper lead-in, well aware of Edmund’s eyes trailing her, not making matters easy for her. “I just thought it is only reasonable that after so many years of waiting, we now—”

“Waiting? I’m not sure I—”

She stopped and frowned at his furrowed brow. Edmund was not obtuse, so she couldn’t fathom what he gained in pretending to be so. Irritation spiked within her. “For goodness sake, it’s been five years! Bets are being wagered at White’s as we speak. I think it’s time.”

“Time?” He echoed. Suddenly his eyes widened and he retreated a step. “I’m beginning to understand.” He lifted his hand to rub his neck, a tinge of color spotting his cheeks.

Julia’s lips parted at the unusual reaction.

What was wrong with the man?

A rueful smile curved his lips. “However, there is something I need to clarify before you continue.” He held up his hands. “You see, I’m not who—”

“No, it’s not necessary,” she broke in, cursing her earlier outburst and seeking to avoid the tired explanations over what the two of them had long understood. “I have always appreciated and been grateful for your patience and discretion while my family worked through these travails. But it’s our time now. I want to honor the betrothal contract. I couldn’t before, but now I can. I—”

“Julia, wait, stop! I do need to explain—”

“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” Before her flagging courage abandoned her, she stepped closer to him, lifted her chin, and took a deep breath, gazing straight into his eyes. “All I need you to do is kiss me and tell me that everything is going to be all right. That
we
will be all right.”

“You don’t understand. I’m…what?” His hands dropped, and he had to clear his throat before he could continue. “Ah, what was that about kissing?”

Feminine satisfaction filled her, helping her to regain her lost footing. Emboldened, she decided that if Edmund could behave un-Edmund-like, then for once, she could abandon the calm, collected, and responsible Julia. Tired of being trapped by her responsibilities, she wanted to feel young and reckless. More so, she wanted to relish the thud of her heart in her chest and the heat spiraling through her body as Edmund fastened his beautiful eyes on her.

Shoring up her courage, she lifted her arms and slid her hands up his chest, marveling at the feel of the warm, hard
strength of him through his jacket and wondering why she had never dared do this before. Why had she waited so long, particularly as she felt his heart thud against her palms. It felt good.
He
felt good.

His fingers curled over her forearms. “Julia—”

“Edmund.” She cocked her head to the side. “Aren’t betrothals sealed with a kiss? Considering ours was penned when I was in the cradle, I appreciate your waiting.” Freeing her arms, she slid her hands around his neck, sliding her fingers into the soft curls teasing his cravat and smiling at the flare of light in his eyes. “But as you can see, I’m all grown up now.”

She watched him swallow, felt his hands lower to her waist, but frowned when he held her away from him.

“You certainly are.” He grinned. “That I noticed straightaway. But you see—”

“I do see. I see that you are wasting more of our time. I also see that you’re stammering when you could be kissing me. Don’t you want to kiss me?” Before she lost her nerve, she moistened her lips as Emily had once showed her to do to make them more alluring.

He expelled a choked laugh and shook his head. “Of course, I want to kiss you! A man would have to be lacking a pulse to reject such an offer. But Jules—”

She paused at the old childhood nickname. He hadn’t used it in years. But his hands had drawn her back to him, which bolstered her courage—and her daring.

“You do have a pulse, don’t you?” she whispered. She was standing so close to him that she could see his long eyelashes, and admire his lovely moss green eyes, and how they warmed at her question.

“For the moment,” he quipped. “However, I’d prefer to retain it, and should we proceed further with this, that could be dangerous for both of us.”

He had a point, and the old Julia would have heeded it, considering how the warmth of his gaze sent her pulse skipping into a treacherous rhythm. However, his look and the grip of his hands on her waist made the new Julia feel young, beautiful, and desired, something Edmund had not made her feel in years. “Really, Edmund, it’s one kiss. How dangerous could it be?”
She raised a brow, knowing Edmund never could refuse a challenge.

He sucked in a sharp breath and stared at her. After a beat, he exhaled and swore softly. “Hell, I’ve been living dangerously my whole life.” His eyes dipped to her parted lips. “Why stop now?” He yanked her to him, his arms a vise around her waist, crushing her tight to him.

She gasped at the explosive heat of his body against hers. Her eyes widened when his head lowered, and inches away, the warmth of his breath whispered into her parted lips, “Forgive me.” His mouth closed over hers and he kissed her as she had never been kissed before. Kissed her as if he had waited as long as she had and was desperate to catch up.

His lips were warm, soft, and sensual. She clung to him, her arms circling his neck, and was dimly aware of his grip tightening on her when her legs turned to liquid jelly and were unable to support her. And still he kissed her. Deeply, erotically, and expertly.

Better yet, she kissed him back!

She savored the taste of him as her mouth surrendered to his. He was a mixture of ale and cider. The sensual assault of taste, touch, and scent overwhelmed her. She loved the feel of his body, hard, warm, and muscular, crushed against her softer contours, and when he broke away for a moment to draw breath, she inhaled the rich masculine scent of him, and felt a wave of molten heat cascade through her limbs.