Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (23 page)

"It is ten minutes to the hour," Brave announced, consulting his watch. "Shall we go in?"

Julian's heart slid down into his stomach. It was time. Drawing a deep breath, he nodded. "Yes. Let us go in."

He straightened the soft, dark blue wool of his coat and tugged gently on his cuffs. "How do I look?" he asked.

Brave gave him a quick once-over. "Brummell himself could not fault you."

Gabriel was a bit more critical. "You look like a puffed-up peacock."

Plastering a false smile on his face, Julian told his friend where he could stuff that analogy.

They left Julian's study and made the short walk to the blue drawing room together. The room had been his mother's favorite, and Letitia had pronounced it the most suitable room in the house for Julian and Sophia to be married in. A large portrait of their parents hung above the mantel. A portrait of Miranda graced the opposite wall. Being married in this room would be almost like having his entire family blessing his marriage.

The guests were already there when they entered. Only a few close friends and acquaintances had been invited to the ceremony. Other than Gabriel, Lilith, Brave and Rachel there were only Letitia, Lady Wickford and Sophia's mother. Her father had refused to come. Julian, for one, did not miss Lord Haverington's presence. He'd never liked the pious old bastard.

The Marquess of Aberley had not been invited, of course. Julian had no doubt that news of their betrothal had reached Aberley— all of London was talking about it. He would have gladly given his right arm to witness the marquess's reaction to the news.

Julian took his place at the front of the room with the minister, clasping his trembling hands in front of him. Letitia shot him a grin from her seat at the pianoforte. She seemed so very pleased by his and Sophia's marriage, and Julian was glad for it. He hadn't told her of Patterson's withdrawal, or why it had happened. She had been so out of sorts lately; he hoped that the wedding might cheer her up.

If only he could see her married herself. He knew that marriage wouldn't stop Letitia from ever having problems, but marriage would afford her more freedom and protection than she had now as an unmarried miss. Once she was safely wed he would stop worrying about her.

Stop worrying that something horrible might take her from him as it had Miranda.

All thoughts of his sister were wiped from Julian's mind as Sophia entered the room on the arm of her mother. Julian was struck by how alike mother and daughter looked. Maria Everston was a darker, older version of her daughter, although years of marriage to the viscount had made her a little harder-looking as well.

Sophia was breathtaking in an ice blue satin gown with matching gloves and a delicate diamond pendant around her neck. Her hair was a braided coronet with tiny white flowers woven in amongst the ebony strands. She smiled at him from behind a demure bouquet of posies. He smiled back. She was actually going to be his.

When she reached his side, he held out his gloved hand. Releasing her mother's arm, she took it. Julian couldn't be certain, but he thought he heard the viscountess mutter something in Spanish under her breath. Julian didn't understand the words, but her tone was one of relief.

They held hands throughout the ceremony, with Julian's parents smiling down upon them from their place above the mantel. When Sophia stumbled over her vows, he squeezed her fingers encouragingly. When they were finally pronounced man and wife, Sophia squeezed his.

After the ceremony, they went to the red drawing room for drinks before filing into the dining room for the wedding dinner. Tradition normally called for a breakfast as marriage ceremonies were usually held earlier in the day, but Sophia declared that they had broken every other tradition on their journey to the altar, so what did one more matter?

Their guests began departing shortly after dinner. Lady Wickford was the first to go, presenting them with a wedding gift of a pair of heavy silver goblets that had belonged to her parents.

"I wanted the two of you to have them," she told them with moist eyes. "For the both of you are as dear to me as any children could have been."

His throat tight, Julian embraced the older woman after Sophia released her. "Thank you," he whispered near her ear.

Brave and Rachel left next, anxious to get home to their son, Alexander, especially since they would be away from him again that evening. Gabriel and Lilith followed shortly after.

By the time Sophia's mother left, it was time to start getting ready for the evening. Just before taking her leave, Maria gave Sophia a stunning ruby necklace that had belonged to the women in her family for generations. The two women spoke softly to each other in Spanish. Julian had no idea what they were saying, but the conversation ended with both of them embracing and on the verge of tears.

"What did she say to you?" he asked as they climbed the stairs toward their bedchambers. Unfortunately, he would go to his and she would go to hers in order to prepare for the evening.

"She told me she was proud of me," Sophia replied, dabbing at her eyes with his handkerchief. She clutched the box containing the jewelry against her breast. "That she wished me joy. And she told me I was the most beautiful bride she had ever seen."

Julian smiled. "I have to agree with her there." Bending down, he murmured against the soft ridge of her ear, "I cannot wait for tonight."

She blushed to the roots of her hair. "Nor can I." They reached the top of the stairs. "But you are the one who said you wanted to take your time and, alas, we haven't much."

"We have some," he corrected, following her into her chamber. "You may leave us," he said to the maid.

The young maid smiled coyly and dipped a curtsey before scurrying from the room. Sophia turned on him with flashing black eyes.

"Why did you do that? Who will help me with my toilette?"

"I will." He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it on her bed.

Hands on her hips, she arched both brows. "Oh, so you are going to help me undress and help me bathe…" Her voice drifted off. Obviously she realized that was exactly what he intended.

"Precisely." He rolled up his shirt sleeves. "Turn around."

Placing his hands around her waist, Julian pushed her across the carpet toward said room. A huge copper tub sat in the middle of the floor, steam rising from the water in it.

"I really do not know if this is a good idea," she protested as his fingers set to work on the tiny buttons on the back of her gown.

"Why?" Frigging buttons! Why did they have to be so blasted small?

"I…because if you undress me then you will probably want to touch me."

Julian didn't pause in his struggle against the buttons. "I do want to touch you."

She turned to face him, the neckline of her gown sagging. "If you touch me I will not want you to stop."

He smiled at her, at the high color in her cheeks and the defensive angle of her chin. "That is the whole point."

She didn't even crack a smile, but her eyes twinkled. "We have a party to go to, remember?"

Still smiling, Julian untied his cravat, pulling the starched length of fabric from around his neck. "We'll get there. We just might be a little late."

Sophia laughed. She still held her sagging bodice to her chest. "You know as well as I do that there will be no turning back if we start something now."

He knew. Christ, yes, he knew. Hearing her say it was another matter, however. Her matter-of-fact tone— as though their wanting each other was a force of its own— aroused him more than explicit words or touches could have. His prick was as hard as a rock.

"All right," he growled, conceding finally. "You win."

Reaching out, she laid a hand upon his arm. He stood very still, even though he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms.

"Thank you." Her gaze was so sweet and so full of trust as it met his that Julian almost believed it was worth the frustration sizzling in his veins.

"Do not thank me," he replied more gruffly than intended. "If it were up to me we would both of us be in that bath right now, and it would not be my back you would be soaping."

She flushed again, but not before a giggle escaped her lips. It was an odd sound coming from her. He'd never thought of her as a giggler. Was it possible that she was nervous about making love with him? What could she possibly have to fear— other than the force of their mutual desire?

Whatever Sophia's reasons for being nervous, Julian knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. And he respected her enough not to pressure her.

With a quick, chaste kiss, he left her and her gaping gown and retired to his own room. There, a bath waited for him in his own dressing room. He stripped off his wedding clothes, tossing them on a nearby chair to be taken care of later by his valet, and stepped into the warm bath.

He stayed in until the water cooled, waiting for it to cool his blood as well. But it did not work, for all he could think of in his bath was of Sophia in hers.

"I want to take you home now."

Beneath the burning chandeliers of Eden's assembly rooms, in the warm circle of her husband's arms, Sophia shivered as Julian's hot breath fanned her ear.

"All right," she replied softly, unable to meet his gaze. She wanted to please him, but she was frightened. Frightened not only of disappointing him, but of the passion that raged between them. It was like a fire waiting to consume them. Would it consume her entirely? Would she lose something of the self she had fought so hard to find after Edmund's death? She didn't want a man to have any kind of control over her again, and that included Julian.

And she was a little bit scared of him seeing her naked. She knew she wasn't ugly, but her body didn't look like it had seven years ago— she and Julian both had gotten larger over the years. Edmund had watched her weight like a hawk, putting her on a diet if she gained the least amount of weight.

Since his death she had gained almost a full stone.

Sophia did not miss the teasing glances Julian's friends shot him as they said their goodbyes. It was more than a little embarrassing, all these people knowing they were going home just so they could make love.

The carriage ride home seemed to take forever as she struggled to make conversation. Then Julian moved to sit beside her, kissing her until she was breathless, and the trip was over.

Her maid, Jenny, was waiting when she entered her room. A half dozen candles bathed the room in a soft, mellow light.

She had Jenny unbutton her gown and that was it. She undressed herself after the maid had left, and slipped into the delicate pink peignoir set that Lilith and Rachel had helped her pick out.

The gown itself was little more than a long sheath of gauze with thin straps and a plunging neckline. It clung to her breasts and hips and Sophia was certain it hid very little, if anything. Looking down, she could see the shadowy outlines of her areolae and erect nipples through the transparent fabric. It felt as though she was already naked. Hastily, she pulled on the matching robe.

Her fingers trembling, she sat down at her dressing table and began plucking pins from her hair. It fell heavily around her shoulders, the thick black strands almost poker straight despite having been coiled on top of her head. She brushed it until it crackled, until her breathing was normal and she felt somewhat relaxed. It was then that the door in the far corner of her room opened and Julian appeared.

He stood in the doorway wearing nothing but his shirt and trousers. Even his feet were bare. Sophia's mouth went dry at the sight of him. There was something incredibly sensual about his appearance, even though he was still covered.

He carried a wine bottle in one hand, two glasses in the other. No doubt the wine was for her benefit— a little something to calm her nerves and make her relax.

She rose to her feet as he crossed the carpet. He didn't bother to try to hide his frank appraisal of her attire.

"Very nice," he murmured.

"Lilith picked it out," she replied inanely.

A small smile curved his lips. "I do not doubt that she did. Drink?"

She nodded and he set the glasses on her vanity, pouring a liberal amount into both. He offered her one.

Sophia's fingers trembled as she took it. Raising it to her lips she took two long, deep gulps to soothe her jangled nerves. Smiling, Julian refilled her glass and then set the bottle on the surface of her dressing table.

She watched as Julian took a long swallow of wine. His Adam's apple shifted against the long, smooth column of his throat as he drank. His tongue flicked over his lips in a manner that probably wasn't meant to be seductive, but had the same effect.

He caught her staring and stared back, his gaze filled with tender humor. He moved closer, bending down to brush his lips across hers. He took his time, lazily probing with his tongue.

"Let us move to the bed, shall we?" he suggested, taking her wine from her and setting it on the dressing table beside his own.

Anticipation shivered down Sophia's spine as he backed her toward the bed. "Shall I snuff out the candles?"

"No. Leave them. I want to see you."

The back of her legs hit the trunk at the foot of the bed. Sophia's eyes widened as her stomach fluttered. "Oh."

Julian chuckled, but it wasn't a mean sound. "Do you not want to see me as well?"

She hadn't thought of that. Without the candles she wouldn't be able to admire his nakedness, wouldn't be able to study his body and put her curiosity to rest at last. The idea of offering herself up for such intimate scrutiny was humbling. She so desperately wanted him to approve of her body, to find it as desirable as she found his. It had nothing to do with Edmund and her marriage to him. This was Julian, the first man she had ever loved, and even though it had happened years ago, there was still something special about him.

Obviously he saw the indecision on her face. Either that or he read her mind.

"Are you nervous about me seeing you naked?"

Sophia nodded, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "A little. Yes."