Loving Julia (38 page)
She stared up at him, not sure she liked being the object of such savage passion. Those blue eyes bore into hers relentlessly, pinning her just as his hands pinned her wrists to the bed. She felt anger start to gather inside her like clouds before a storm, then suddenly she thought of the lonely little boy he had been once. In all his life he had never really had anyone to love, and now he loved her. Of course he was jealous, of course he was possessive. If she wanted him—and she did, oh, how she did!—this was a part of him she would have to accept. Until perhaps one day he felt sure enough of her love not to have to guard it so fiercely.
“I love you,” she whispered. He glared at her for a moment longer before the fierce look slowly began to fade. “And I’ll marry you whenever you say—if you’ll just let go of my wrists.” She added the last with a wry smile.
He looked surprised, as if he hadn’t known he was holding them, and then smiled sheepishly himself, as he released his harsh grip. Julia sat up, not minding a bit about her nakedness as she rubbed her wrists and gave him an admonishing look at the same time.
“You hurt me, you know.”
“I’m sorry.” He picked up each wrist in turn and pressed a gentle kiss on it at the point where the fine blue veins traced through her milky skin. “You should have told me. I would never intentionally hurt you.”
“I know.” She smiled at him, stretched out her arms to encircle his neck and pull his head closer. He came to her willingly, and returned her soft kiss with interest.
“We don’t have to go this minute, do we?” she whispered. And, with more kisses, he agreed that they didn’t.
The rest of the day passed in a glow of happiness for Julia. She couldn’t believe that Sebastian loved her, or that he wanted her to be his wife—but he did. She hugged the knowledge to her like a child with a lovey.
Sebastian sneaked her back into the house on Grosvenor Square with none of the servants the wiser. He opened the door with his own key, and they crept through the hall and up the stairs like wayward children. Everything went smoothly, except that Julia had difficulty holding back a nervous attack of the giggles. She had just made it to her room and managed to get out of the gold balldress (which Sebastian, who had acted as lady’s maid when they dressed, had left partly unfastened so that she could get out of it alone), put on her nightrail and get into bed before Emily entered with her morning meal of chocolate and rolls. Julia felt absurdly guilty at first, but Emily seemed to notice nothing amiss, just clucking to herself over the state of the gorgeous ballgown that Julia in her haste had dropped to the floor as she stepped out of it.
“You should have rung for me when you got home, Miss Julia,” Emily said with mild reproach, shaking out the dress and restoring it lovingly to the tall mahogany wardrobe.
“It was very late, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” Julia said with perfect truth as she sipped her chocolate. Considering that she had had no sleep at all, she felt surprisingly, wide awake and glowing with energy. Amazing what an effect love had on her, she thought with an inward giggle. She wondered then if Sebastian felt as marvelous as she did, or if he had collapsed on his bed and was even now sound asleep.
“Are you ready for your bath now, Miss Julia?” Emily asked, bringing her back to reality. Julia nodded, not one whit sorry to be brought back. After all, she no longer had to dream of Sebastian because he was hers, hers! And thus started another day.
It was nearing the noon hour before Julia finally came downstairs. She had dawdled over her toilette, partly because it had occurred to her as she was dressing that there might be an awkward scene with the dowager countess and, to a lesser extent, Caroline. Those two ladies had seen Sebastian spirit her away and would know perfectly well that the fiction they had decided to tell anyone else who inquired—that he had brought her bad news from a relative—was patently untrue. But they had to be faced sometime, as did Oliver. She would have to inform him of her change of heart and plans without Sebastian being any the wiser. Sebastian would undoubtedly fly into a rage if he were to discover just how very far advanced were the arrangements to make her Lady Carlyle.
Hiding away in her room would serve no purpose. She had to go downstairs and face the music, and at the same time contrive a way to meet with Oliver without Sebastian’s knowledge. Which might, if Sebastian chose to be possessive, prove difficult. But she felt she owed Oliver more than to acquaint him with such news at a public gathering. Perhaps she could send him a note? No, she couldn’t do that either. She owed it to Oliver to break off their engagement face to face.
There were numerous servants scurrying about the first and ground floors, polishing and sweeping and moving furniture about with a great deal of muffled noise. Julia checked in her descent of the stairs, staring down at all this unaccustomed activity. Then she remembered that evening Caroline was holding a rout. What awkward timing, Julia thought before realizing it was probably better to get it over with. She would have to face the curious and malicious out to make what scandal they could from last night sometime, and where better to do it than in her own home? If she just held her head up and presented a composed front to those who might question her, the whole incident would soon be forgotten.
“Miss Julia, his lordship left a message for you.” Smathers was following two footmen laden with enormous arrangements of hothouse flowers. Upon seeing Julia on the stairs, he fumbled in his pocket and came up with a folded scrap of paper. Julia accepted it from him with a smile and a thank you, then took it into the morning room to read.
“I had urgent business to attend to this morning, so I will not see you until later on today. I have informed my mother of our plans, so you need feel no awkwardness with her. Behave yourself. Sebastian.”
This brief message sent a shaft of pure happiness shooting through Julia. Not that it was at all loverlike. Julia had to grin at the idea of cool, controlled Sebastian penning a love letter. But to her, who knew him so well, it said more than the most glibly composed love letter ever had. It said that he had thought of her, that he loved her enough to explain his whereabouts to her, that he had thought to spare her an unpleasant confrontation by breaking their news to his mother without her presence. Julia thought about how that lady was probably taking the intelligence that her son was marrying a trumped-up guttersnipe, and shivered. The harridan would be out for blood—her blood. For one of the few times in her life, Julia decided to turn tail and run. If Sebastian would be out most of the afternoon, so would she. His absence gave her the perfect opportunity to call on Oliver and explain. She could always say she was going shopping. There was some shopping that she needed to do anyway, so it would not be a lie.
“Good morning, Julia.” Caroline’s voice made her start. Julia looked up to see the other woman coming toward her with a gentle smile.
“I understand we are to be sisters now,” Caroline added, coming up to where Julia stood by the window and brushing a quick kiss on her cheek. “I must say I was nearly floored when Sebastian gave me the news. I thought you were about to announce your engagement to Lord Carlyle, so you may imagine how very surprised I was. But of course I am glad for you.”
“Thank you. And I know you will understand when I say that Oliver was … a mistake.” Julia smiled back at the taller woman, who nodded sympathetically.
Dressed today in a gown of palest jonquil crepe, Caroline did not look anything near her twenty-nine years. Her flaxen hair was drawn back into a smooth, stylish chignon at the nape of her neck, and the skin of her face and throat was soft and pale. Her slim figure displayed to advantage in the elegant morning robe added to the impression she gave of youth, and Julia thought that an observer might have guessed that the two were much of an age if it had not been for the dark smudges that ringed Caroline’s gentle blue eyes. Perhaps like herself Caroline had experienced a sleepless night. Julia’s eyes twinkled as she considered the possibility that Lord Rowland had borne the proper Caroline off to a love nest until dawn streaked the sky. No, that was clearly impossible. She did not know about Lord Rowland, but she did know that Caroline would be shocked at the very idea.
“I am sorry to say that Margaret is not taking the news at all well.” Caroline’s tone was faintly regretful. “But I imagine you must have guessed that. And the way Sebastian chose to tell her—can you imagine, he got her out of bed at some ungodly hour because he said he had business to take care of and couldn’t hang about for hours waiting for her to come downstairs? Well, that didn’t help matters as you can imagine. Her maid tells me that she is laid down upon her bed with the migraine. But she will come around, never fear. In the meantime you must tell me your and Sebastian’s plans. Do you mean to be married at once?”
“I really don’t know,” Julia said, her cheeks pinkening with pleasure at actually discussing her forthcoming marriage. It was all so wonderful, so impossible to believe. Like a dream. “I believe I must just leave all that to Sebastian. Whatever he decides is fine with me.”
“You love him very much, don’t you?” There was a curious note in Caroline’s voice. Julia looked at her carefully, and saw the faint shadows at the backs of Caroline’s eyes. She must be remembering her own love for Sebastian’s brother, Julia guessed, and the memory must still after all these years cause her pain. Of course it would. Even if Sebastian had been dead ten years, or twenty, or a hundred, as long as her heart still went on beating she would mourn him. She felt a rush of sympathy for Caroline.
“Yes, I do.”
“And he loves you?”
“I, yes. Yes, he does.”
“I thought so. I, none of us have ever seen him make such a display of himself as he did last night. There was a great deal of talk as you may imagine. I had no idea what to say to people, and neither, I am sure, did Margaret. But Sebastian tells us that we are to say that he brought you news of an ill relative, and since you two are to be married any scandal will be quickly squashed. But Julia, there is one thing I feel I must point out to you. It pains me to say it, but you know that Sebastian is not generally received. You have achieved a not inconsiderable success, which I know is important to you as well it should be, considering—well, never mind. But have you thought that if you wed Sebastian you must share his onus? The parties and balls you have enjoyed will be largely a thing of the past.”
“I don’t mind. I’d rather be married to Sebastian than attend a thousand parties.” The soft glow in Julia’s eyes as she spoke of her marriage to Sebastian was reflected in her voice. Caroline’s face changed, just a little, suddenly looking almost furtive.
“Julia, there is one more thing. I—I feel I would not be a true friend to you if I did not just mention it. You—you do know what happened to Elizabeth? Sebastian’s wife?” The words were said quickly in a hushed tone, as if Caroline feared being overheard. Julia stiffened.
“Yes, I am aware of how she died, but I don’t see that it has anything to do with me. Surely you don’t think I believe that Sebastian killed her? And surely you don’t believe such a thing yourself?”
“No, no, of course I do not. I—I just felt that I, that someone should make you aware of what has been said. But if you do not mind, then of course that is the end of it.”
“I do mind,” Julia answered quietly. “For Sebastian, not myself. He has been dreadfully wronged. But such a slander would not deter anyone who truly loves him, as I do.”
The haunted look vanished from Caroline’s eyes, Julia was relieved to see. “That’s wonderful,” Caroline said briskly, once again her usual composed self. “I trust you will inform the family before the ceremony actually takes place? I, for one, would very much like to be in attendance.”
“Certainly we will. At least I think so. Unless Sebastian—” Julia broke off, as it occurred to her that she would willingly fall in with whatever arrangements Sebastian preferred. She would gladly marry him over the anvil in Scotland if that was what he wished. She only wanted to be his wife, and the means did not matter in the least.
Caroline smiled. “Ah yes, of course, the decision must be Sebastian’s. Well, I will talk to him. But now you must excuse me. I have much to do for tonight’s party.”
“And I think I will do a little shopping.”
“Running sly from the afternoon’s callers, are you?” Caroline eyed her with a roguish little twinkle. “You need not, you know. Since we are having a party tonight, we are officially not at home today. So you need not fear to meet anyone before you are ready.”
Julia responded to that twinkle with a smile of her own. “I own, the thought did occur to me, and I thank you for the reassurance. But I think I will go shopping anyway. I feel a trifle restless.”
“As you wish, of course.” Caroline smiled again, and left the room.
Julia stood for a moment, staring out the window into the square. There were a few people coming and going along the street, vendors and servants mostly, with a single fashionable carriage pulling to a stop outside number 57. Julia watched an obese old man alight with much assistance from two footmen and a valet. It was funny to reflect that all these people, from the obese old man to the grubby urchin lurking at the edges of the park to the bun vendor pushing his cart down the street, all had their own separate interests and their own separate lives. None of them, she was willing to wager, were even a tenth as happy as she was at the moment. With a warm smile, she went to summon the carriage. She then went upstairs to get her cloak and Emily before the carriage was at the door.
It was not the done thing for a lady to call on a gentleman at his residence, but Julia could see no other way of meeting Oliver without Sebastian’s knowledge. She had the carriage drop her and Emily in Bond Street; it was to return for them in some three hours. She then hired a hackney to convey them to Oliver’s residence.
On the way there it occurred to Julia that the best thing might just be to send Emily to the door with a note for Oliver requesting him to join her in the carriage. That would leave little chance of anyone ever finding out that she had called on him, and telling Sebastian. Sebastian would be livid if he knew.
