The Rebel Bride (40 page)

“Ah, you jest with me, but it must be said. There was only the one time, really, and well you know it. Just that once. Well, the other times weren’t all that well done of me, but those, I think, were very understandable, given what you did. German bandit, ha!”

“I would appreciate it if you would contrive to forget that man and what he did. He was a fool and stupid and altogether an idiot. I’m sorry for that, Kate, very sorry.”

“But it made me remember, and even though it was dreadful and so frightening at first, well, you did help me, Julien. You got rid of the ghosts.”

He looked at her closely. “Are you certain?”

She nodded. “Yes. Just three days ago, I rode Astarte to the copse. There was nothing there, Julien, nothing at all. It was just a place. There wasn’t any more pain, any more terror.”

“Jesus,” he said, and pulled her against him again. “Thank you for coming back to me. You did it with panache. Now, tell me just one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Julien, more than anything I could ever have imagined feeling in my life. You’re part of me, deep inside me. I’ll never let you go away from me again.”

“And I will have to cock up my toes and pass to the hereafter before I leave you, sweetheart. Sarah was right, you know. I’m utterly besotted with you.”

“That’s good. A man should be besotted with his wife.”

“Excellent. Now that we’ve cleared that up, let me kiss you again. Lord, I love your mouth and your ears and your shoulders and your breasts and—” She laughed, then sighed softly when his mouth covered hers. Then
he kissed each smiling dimple. He kissed her until she pulled away, gasping for breath. “By all that’s foul, you don’t know how to kiss. All right, I can see that you need me more than you can begin to imagine. Shall I teach you how to kiss properly now?”

“Do you really want your wife to kiss you with as much skill as your many mistresses?”

“Ah, all those charming females—a thing of the past. Since they are, then you will have to oblige me, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but first I must ask you something. The Haverstokes’ ridotto. I know it wasn’t well done of me, but I couldn’t help it. Why did you take Lady Sarah out onto the balcony and make love to her?”

“Who are we talking about?”

“Lady Sarah at the Haverstoke ridotto.”

“Ah, you saw that? You really were eavesdropping on that most affecting scene. No, that wasn’t well done of you at all.”

“I’m thinking of fetching a pistol, Julien.”

Although he didn’t let her out of the circle of his arms, he was silent for a moment, frowning thoughtfully. “Then I guess I don’t understand. How could you have ever doubted me if you overheard what I said to Sarah? Given, she did wrap herself around me, but that was over quickly. You were a witness, weren’t you?”

“But I saw her kissing you, I heard her speak so meanly about me and our marriage. I wanted to kill her and you, but most of all I wanted to erase myself. I didn’t do any of those things because I got vilely ill. That was humiliating too.”

“So, you got sick, did you? Then you didn’t see how I handled the situation.”

“No, I didn’t. But I would say that your splendid tactics didn’t carry the battle. After all, the lady seemed most sure of herself this evening.”

“Alas, I have this fatal charm.” He laughed and kissed her. “I’m relieved that I now have such a fiercely faithful wife to protect me from such temptations. Women—they’re always throwing themselves in front of my
curricle, fainting on my doorstep, dropping their handkerchiefs at my feet or on my boots—

“Ah, be quiet, you toad! You believe yourself so irresistible, do you?” She paused and studied his face. Her fingertips traced over his mouth, his cheeks, smoothed his eyebrows. “You are, Julien. You please me very much.”

“Does pleasing have to do with pleasure, as in what I’m doing to your earlobe right now?”

“Perhaps it does,” she said, her hands caressing his neck and shoulders.

“Will you forgive me for all the pain I’ve caused you?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know of any other way.”

“But there was my anger, so uncontrolled, so unfair, and I lost our child, Julien.”

“That’s quite enough about that. Look at me. Your miscarriage was an accident, Kate. If there is to be blame attached, it must rest upon my shoulders. Do you understand me?”

“Oh, no, that isn’t right.”

“Do be quiet, Katharine. No more guilt for either of us, all right? We must both of us bury all the ghosts, else we’ll spend our days in silent recriminations. I’m sorry for the child, but my first concern was and always shall be with you.” He touched his fingers to her mouth to silence further protests and added in a lighter voice, “If you wish a future earl of March and many beautiful daughters, you may be certain that I shall most willingly oblige you.”

“Will you really?”

“You know these things take time, Kate, many times, all of them fun, all of them filled with joy and laughter and pleasure. Shall I give you your second lesson?”

“What lesson?”

“Breathing, so you may kiss me properly without swooning from lack of air. Or at least if you do swoon, it will be from the pleasure I give you.” He pulled her against him and kissed her. When he released her a few moments later, she looked at him and said with a sigh, “Oh, dear, it seems I’m so very slow to learn some
things. Perhaps, in this instance, you won’t find my backwardness a trial?”

“With your lovely mouth, soft and warm? No, I think not, sweetheart.” He traced the curve of her lips with his fingertips.

“All right, Julien. Now, you must answer my question. You really didn’t, you know. You just went ahead with your kissing lessons.”

“What question?”

She kissed him and began to busily unbutton his white shirt. “I hope you won’t think me too much a hussy, if I remind you of your promise to most willingly oblige me?”

“Oblige you in what exactly? I can’t seem to remember.”

“I must ask George for a pistol, my lord. Now, I want you obliged for many times. We have a duty to perform and I think we should begin to attend to it.”

“Ah,” he said, as he helped her unbutton his shirt. “The future earl of March?”

George chanced to look up and see the earl and countess of March emerge from the parlor and stroll arm in arm down the long carpeted corridor, his lordship’s fair head bent close to the countess’s cheek. If he wasn’t mistaken, his lordship’s shirt was unbuttoned.

A slow smile spread over his face as he watched them disappear from his view. He decided that he should inform François that the succulent sirloin of beef, so lovingly basted with herbs and red wine, would undoubtedly not be called for this evening by the earl of March.