In the Barrister's Bed (12 page)
Read In the Barrister's Bed Online
Authors: Tina Gabrielle
But just as quickly he released her and looked into her eyes. “The only surprising item in that letter is the use of your pen name, Mr. Adams. As a professional writer, could you not think of something more creative?” he asked.
“Such as?”
“Mr. Roundbottom or Mr. Beeswax or Mr. Longtooth comes to mind.”
She giggled.
“How about a celebratory toast?” he asked.
“Yes, that sounds lovely.”
James went to a sideboard in the corner of the room.
Bella watched as he poured two glasses of amber-colored alcohol. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, and the taut line of his shoulders strained against his white shirt. She was acutely conscious of his tall frame, his movements both graceful and virile. Even his hands were beautiful, long-fingered and strong. She remembered his hands and the way they had made her tremble as they explored the hollows of her back, her waist ... her breast.
He turned and handed her a glass. “A toast,” he said. “To your first of many publication credits.”
She looked at the glass. “What is it?”
“Fine scotch whiskey. Try it.”
She took a sip. The alcohol burned her throat and every inch of her esophagus on the way down. She sputtered and coughed.
He laughed a deep rich sound. “I apologize. I did not bring any champagne with me from London.”
“No matter. I’m celebrating!” A warm glow flowed through her; whether it was from the whiskey or her current happiness she couldn’t tell. She knew only that she was blissfully happy, fully alive, and she was sharing the moment with a handsome duke who had surprised her with his words of praise and encouragement.
“Did your late husband know you were a writer?” James asked.
“Yes, but he did not approve.”
“Then he was a fool.”
Her pulse leapt at his words. Never had she expected a man to approve of her writing endeavors.
“While you are in a celebratory mood,” he said, “there’s something else I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Please tell me you will not ruin the moment by bringing up property ownership.”
He grimaced in good humor. “I wouldn’t dare. The old duke hosted an annual fair during the first week of June for Wyndmoor’s tenants and servants. It was the only holiday for them other than Christmas. The servants may be new, but they have been working hard, and I’d like to follow the tradition.”
“Which servants? Yours or mine?”
“Both, my dear. In addition, my colleagues and the Hardings must return to London. They are busy barristers with full dockets. Their brief visit, no matter how delightful, must end. I would like to host the fair at the end of the week before their departure.”
She eyed him above the rim of her glass. “Don’t you also have your own cases waiting in London? From what you said, your claim to the title was unexpected.”
“Anthony, Brent, and Jack have agreed to take on my caseload and ease the transition for my former clients. But truth be told, I had thought to return to London by now.”
If it wasn’t for her
remained unspoken.
remained unspoken.
At her silence, he prodded, “Come now, Bella. We could all benefit from a day of games and fresh air.”
“I suppose you are correct, Your Grace. The servants have been working hard.”
“Shall we agree upon a temporary truce for the games then?”
She found herself smiling. “Yes. A truce.”
“You should have been there! Bella called James’s manhood into question. She even went so far as to say his ‘advanced age’ affected his sexual performance,” Anthony said.
Brent let out a bark of laughter. “I’d pay to have been a fly on the wall.”
“I was also in the billiard room with Anthony. Why didn’t you summon me to be the judge for your mock court?” Jack asked.
James glared at his friends. He had met Anthony, Brent, and Jack at the Twin Rams that night, and James had known the moment he set foot in the tavern he would be fodder for their teasing.
A barmaid sidled over and hovered near Brent Stone. She smiled coyly at him and brushed her large breasts against his sleeve. Brent barely glanced at her, and said, “Four tankards of your best ale.”
For years James had thought women’s attention to Brent a waste, until he realized his friend was not as uninterested as he appeared. The signs—a tenseness of Brent’s jaw and a quick sideways glance at the barmaid—were slight and one needed a keen eye to catch them. There was a mysterious element to Brent Stone. A dangerous undercurrent that he suppressed behind his façade of hardworking patent barrister. Whenever anyone brought up Brent’s past, he would immediately clam up. James had never minded as he never wanted to speak of his own past.
The tankards were delivered, and Brent spoke up. “I never thought the day would come. A woman James Devlin can’t seduce.”
“More than that,” Anthony said. “She has a splendid sense of humor, and she stands up to him.”
“Evelyn is quite enamored of Bella,” Jack said. “My wife says Bella remains adamant about her ownership of the property.”
James shot Jack Harding a dark look. “Your wife would represent her in court if she could,” he said dryly.
Jack turned his smile up a notch. “She’d probably be victorious, too.”
James raised his tankard and drank. He wasn’t surprised that Jack supported his wife. Evelyn was friendly by nature, but what James hadn’t anticipated was Bella’s genuine warmth and hospitality toward Evelyn.
After that first night, when Bella had stormed down the stairs and accused James of bringing a ladybird into the house, she had instantly changed her behavior and had welcomed the Hardings with open arms even though they were close acquaintances of James’s. Bella wasn’t the cold, bitter widow he had initially thought. In fact, nothing about her was what he had initially believed.
“I warned you not to treat her like one of your London doxies,” Brent said.
“She has a spine,” Anthony said. “If I could stay and witness the outcome of this battle of wills between you two, I would. Unfortunately, Lord Stafford is disgruntled by his conspiring wife and mother-in-law, and I must return to chambers and work on his marital dilemmas.”
“Good grief, Anthony. Why do you insist on practicing the type of law you do?” Brent muttered.
Anthony turned hard eyes on Brent. “I told you before. I enjoy it.”
Anthony’s clipped tone, massive size, and menacing expression spoke volumes, but Brent wasn’t the least disturbed.
“Don’t be an ass, Anthony,” Brent said. “How can you enjoy the strife between squabbling spouses? You should stop before your disgruntled clients drive you completely mad.”
James spoke up before the bickering between two friends turned into a full-blown fight. “We’re holding an annual fair this Friday at Wyndmoor.”
Three pairs of eyes turned to him.
“I thought to celebrate with my friends before you leave, and the spring fair was a tradition of the old duke’s,” James said.
“And Bella agreed?” Jack asked.
James shrugged. “I mentioned it when she was in a celebratory mood.”
“Pray tell us, what was she celebrating?” Jack asked.
“She sold a political piece to the
Times,
” James said.
Times,
” James said.
Brent leaned forward in his seat. “She’s a writer?”
“Yes, a
professional
writer, now,” James found himself saying.
professional
writer, now,” James found himself saying.
“The
Times,
you say? I know the editor. His hide is as tough as a rhinoceros. It’s quite an accomplishment on her part,” Anthony said.
Times,
you say? I know the editor. His hide is as tough as a rhinoceros. It’s quite an accomplishment on her part,” Anthony said.
A vivid image came to James of Bella tearing open the envelope and the joy written on her face after reading the news, and then, as she threw herself into his arms. Suddenly, it had felt like a blazing-hot August afternoon. But even more dangerous than her luscious curves pressed against his body had been her jovial laughter and delight over her first sale of her work. When she had lifted her face and revealed her dazzling smile, he had felt her happiness as if it were his own.
He had wanted her dream to become a reality, and it had taken every ounce of willpower not to pick her up and twirl her about.
Ridiculous.
Why should he care? Was he losing his edge, his firm resolve, when it came to Bella?
“She’s determined and intelligent? You best rethink your plans, James,” Brent warned.
“You had said she’s guarded about her past,” Anthony said. “You wanted Investigator Papazian to look into the matter. Has the man unearthed anything?”
“I have an appointment with the man after the fair. His note said there were items to discuss,” James said.
“I’d be curious as to what a country widow could be hiding,” Anthony said.
James drew his lips in thoughtfully. “So am I.”
Chapter 13
The morning of the fair dawned bright and sunny. Bella stood on the lawn, looking forward to watching the wide array of games that she and the staff had arranged at the duke’s request.
A large washtub filled with water, which would later be used to bob for apples, sat on the far side of the lawn. Four empty wheelbarrows stood ready for races; there would also be footraces, sack races, and even a race to climb a pole greased with duck fat. A table had been set up outside, and Mrs. O’Brien had outdone herself with a wide array of sweet rolls and puddings. Pitchers of lemonade were poised to quench the thirst of the participants of the games.
Harriet and the wives of the tenant farmers sat beneath a large oak conversing; others, servants and the male farmers, prepared to join the games. One of the footmen leaned against the refreshment table, playing a Scottish tune on a handmade flute.
A burst of laughter and a flash of white at the corner of her eye drew Bella’s attention.
A shuttlecock whirled through the air and landed at Bobby’s feet. “I’ll never learn!” Bobby shouted, waving his small racket in the air.
“Let me show you, lad,” James said as he loped over to the boy and demonstrated how to swing his battledore to hit the elusive shuttlecock.
Bella’s gaze turned to James. He was once again dressed casually in his shirt and breeches, and it occurred to her that other than when he had first arrived in his crested carriage, he rarely wore formal attire. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a sprinkling of hair at the V of his open collar. A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead as he leaned forward to patiently instruct Bobby in the fine art of how to hit a shuttlecock with the small racket.
After several attempts, Bobby threw the shuttlecock high in the air and successfully hit it with his racket. The boy jumped up and down with glee, and James’s blue eyes twinkled with delight.
Bella’s heart did a little jump. She couldn’t help but acknowledge the duke was a finely made man. He had an innately captivating presence, and as that was combined with his devastatingly good looks, she understood why many society women found him deliciously appealing.
Three more boys ran up to James, and she recognized them as the children of the tenant farmers. James handed each of them rackets and proceeded to teach them how to play. The fact that the children batted at the shuttlecocks without the slightest hint of talent did not dissuade James in the least. He was easygoing and good-natured, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy himself.
She should have known he would be good with children. Over the course of the week, every single one of her negative beliefs about the Duke of Blackwood had been shattered.
He wasn’t a typical aristocrat, born into a life of leisure and luxury. To the contrary, he had been raised to believe he was a bastard and had been treated abominably by his own family, only to overcome great odds and become a successful, self-made man. He was a selfish and greedy barrister, she had thought, yet he’d agreed to build a new cottage for Wyndmoor’s tenants and repair their roofs with funds from his own pocket. He had taken an illegitimate boy off the streets and under his wing and had employed him. But James hadn’t stopped there; he tutored the boy to follow in his footsteps in the hope that one day he would become a barrister.
Most shocking of all, he hadn’t mocked her when she had told him of her writing ambitions, but had praised her efforts, going so far as to call her courageous for submitting her work; and he had celebrated alongside her when she had sold her first piece. After Roger, never had she suspected a man could be supportive of her writing.
The duke’s friends arrived, their arms full of sporting equipment, and joined the festivities. A game of lawn bowls started on the far patch of lawn. Bella watched as Brent Stone and Anthony Stevens paired off against the duke and Jack Harding.
Each team received its own color bowls, brown or yellow, and the smaller white “jack” was thrown. After their first bowl, Brent and Jack went for their respective teams, their bowls stopping close to each other. Anthony went next, his brown bowl just grazing the jack and resting right beside it. At James’s turn, he knocked his opponent’s bowl away from the jack to score a point. Jack cheered and slapped James on the back. Anthony and Brent scowled, then laughed and issued cocky challenges full of male bravado as they retrieved their bowls to continue the game.
Bella’s father had once said that one could discern much about a man’s character by the type of friends he kept. The duke’s friends, even the daunting and intimidating Anthony Stevens, were respectful toward her. All were successful barristers and loyal to each other. Only Jack Harding was married, and if the choice of his spouse reflected upon his character, then he was an upstanding man to have won the heart of the delightful Lady Evelyn.
Evelyn joined Bella on the lawn. “What a wonderful spring day for us to enjoy.”
Bella looked up at the cloudless sky. Sun bathed the lawn with dazzling light and warmth. It was as if James had ordered the pleasant weather and Mother Nature had gladly obliged.
Shouts from the lawn sounded, and the women turned to see that two of the yellow bowls were closest to the white jack.
“Look! Jack and the duke earned two more points!” Evelyn cried out, cheering enthusiastically for her husband.
An odd twinge of jealousy stirred inside Bella.
Lady Evelyn truly adores her husband and her happiness is clearly written on her face for all to see.
Lady Evelyn truly adores her husband and her happiness is clearly written on her face for all to see.
Bella had once been a naïve young woman who believed in the fairytale of the knight in shining armor proclaiming undying love for his lady. Then Bella had the misfortune of marrying Roger Sinclair, and her illusions had crumbled around her like a poorly built cottage during a windstorm. She had never desired to remarry after Roger; she had no longer believed in a perfect union between a man and a woman. But gazing at Evelyn Harding, she realized perhaps she was wrong....
The men shouted as a goal was made, and Bella’s attention returned to the game. The truth was she was mesmerized by this fun-loving side of James. His intelligent eyes shone with pleasure, and he encouraged the servants to join in on the game. He had once confessed that Wyndmoor Manor was where he could be himself, where he truly felt like the duke’s son, and she could see it now in his relaxed demeanor.
An instant’s squeezing guilt pierced her chest. She was the only obstacle in his way... .
She made to turn when he spotted her.
“Bella, you are just the person I was looking for.” He walked toward her and extended his hand. “We need another player for the leg races.”
She placed her hand in his. “Leg races?”
“It’s simple,” he said, holding up a shoelace. “We tie one leg of each partner together and race to the finish line. Evelyn will surely partner with her husband, leaving me the odd man out. What do you say?”
Bella was caught off guard by his cheery smile. “I’m not very good at physical sports. Perhaps another partner will do you justice—”
“Nonsense.”
“Do join us, Bella,” Evelyn encouraged. “It will be such fun.”
Before Bella could think of another response, James knelt and lifted the hem of her skirt a demure inch. He proceeded to wrap the shoelace around her ankle, securing it to his own. Guiding her to a chalked line in the grass, they lined up beside four other pairs of contestants.
Coates waved a flag and they were off.
Three steps in to the race, Jack and Evelyn fell to their right and a pair of servants stumbled to their left. Bella giggled as they struggled to find a rhythm to their steps. James’s arm went around her waist, and his warmth enveloped her. She was conscious of the occasional jolt of his muscular thigh brushing her hip, and her skin prickled pleasurably. She was filled with a strange excitement as the thrill of competition raced through her, and they hobbled closer to the finish line.
“We’re almost there!” he shouted.
They stumbled through the finish line and fell together, Bella somehow landing on top of James.
“Oh!” she cried out.
Every inch of his body was solid beneath hers. She was aware of his strength and the heat of his flesh. Her heart jolted, and her breasts tingled against the fabric of her dress. Their position was horribly improper, but he was laughing, a rich pleasant sound. She felt the rumbling of his chest beneath hers, and with a giddy sense of pleasure, she too broke into laughter.
He rose awkwardly, helped her to her feet, and untied the lacing at their ankles.
“We won!” She smiled up at him.
He reached out to pluck a blade of grass from her hair. “Indeed. I had no doubt.”
His gaze was soft as a caress, and she struggled to restrain the dizzying current racing through her. A sensuous light passed between them, like a warm, topical breeze across her skin.
Bobby’s voice broke the moment. “Time to climb the greased pole!”
The lad’s face flushed with eagerness, and Bella glanced up at James. “You should know the ladies are placing wagers on which man will reach the top first, Your Grace.”
James grinned. “I’m a sure win.” He raised her hand and brushed his lips across her fingers. She inhaled sharply, a rush of warmth flashing over her. He lifted his head, his compelling blue eyes studying her. “Thank you for partnering with me, Bella.”
He turned on his heel and jogged to the pole with Bobby by his side. Bella stared at his back, her heart thumping uncomfortably. She was weakening toward him. Nothing had changed regarding their property battle, and yet it was pointless to deny her attraction to him. Her growing feelings had nothing to do with logic or reason.
It was madness on her part, pure madness.
She stood as if in a daze and waited until her quickened pulse returned to normal, then wandered to the refreshment table. Picking up an empty pitcher, she decided to return to the house. She needed privacy, time alone to think and calm her nerves. She wove her way through the house and to the kitchen and was refilling the pitcher with fresh lemonade when the scrape of footsteps on the tiles made her turn.
Harriet entered the kitchen. “You should be outside enjoying yourself.”
“I saw no need to bother the servants,” Bella said, “and the children need more lemonade.”
Harriet’s shrewd eyes studied Bella’s face. “You are avoiding him.”
Bella’s chin rose. “I am not.” She realized as soon as the words left her lips that inquiring about whom Harriet referred to had never occurred to her.
“The duke is not hiding, but seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself,” Harriet said.
Bella experienced a sudden bitterness and frustration. As the days passed, James seemed to be enjoying time with his friends and the country life, while she was consumed with thoughts of the property dispute—or worse—thoughts of him.
“He must be confident in his victory over me. Why else do you think he is so at ease?” Bella said.
“You seek my opinion?” Harriet asked.
“I do.”
Harriet stepped close to touch Bella’s sleeve. “My opinion is that Blackwood is a handsome and charming man who is shrewdly intelligent and who wields the power of a dukedom. He’s accustomed to women swaying at his feet and has never had to work hard to seduce one into his arms. The combination of looks and power make him a worthy opponent, but what makes him a
dangerous
opponent is the challenge you pose.”
dangerous
opponent is the challenge you pose.”
“Because I will not hand over the property on a bloody platter?” Bella said.
“No. Because you are as unattainable as the place. He wants you, Bella. Just as fiercely as he wants Wyndmoor.”
“How on earth do you know that?”
“I was young once, and there were men in my life. I know when a man lusts after a woman.”
“Harriet!”
Harriet took the pitcher from Bella’s limp hands and set it on the table. “Don’t look so shocked. Blackwood desires you. A blind woman could see it.”
“If what you say is true, then what would you have me do to be rid of him?”
“I don’t believe the answer to our problems is to get rid of the man. To the contrary, the answer just might be to draw him closer, encourage his affections—”
Bella eyed her incredulously. “Are you suggesting I seduce him?”
“Not seduce him, Bella. But encourage his amorous feelings.”
“You think if I bed him, he will hand the place over in gratitude?”
Harriet’s lips thinned. “I’m not speaking of a passing lustful affair, but a more permanent position.”
“You mean marriage? He is a duke. He can marry any titled debutante or heiress he wishes. Women will flock to him upon his return to London.”
“But he is here now, luv, and by the looks of him the only woman who has caught his eye is you.”
“Lust is not love,” Bella argued. “I refuse to be any man’s mistress, and I swore never to marry again after Roger.”
Harriet squeezed Bella’s hand. “That’s just it. Roger was a bad man, a rotten man, and I’d hate to see you avoid remarrying because of him. You are beautiful and good-hearted and too young to spend the rest of your days alone. You deserve a good man, someone you can share your life with and have a family with.”
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