Julius's Passion (Regency Club Venus 4)

by Carole Mortimer

  His eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

  “It is just that it is not a common name, and it was also my mother’s maiden name, so I wondered if perhaps…” The longer the earl continued to stare at her, the more flustered she became. “But, of course, the two would not be related. I should not have bothered you— My lord?” Her voice trembled as she suddenly found the tops of her arms grasped and she was pinned in place by the intensity of Julius Soames’s gaze.

  He continued to look at her searchingly for several long minutes before just as suddenly releasing her and stepping back.

  Bethany was momentarily stunned by her immediate and unexpectedly sensual reaction to being touched by Julius. Her arms tingled where he had held her, that sensation then traveling to her breasts and down to her belly and then lower still, engendering a heat between her thighs which caused her to shift uncomfortably.

  “As you say,” Julius continued dryly, thankfully seeming unaware of her reaction. “It is very unlikely that my valet would be related to the previous Countess of Ipswich.”

  Bethany felt utterly ridiculous for having even broached the subject with this superior gentleman. “I apologize for disturbing you and wish you a good night, my lord.” She didn’t wait for him to acknowledge or return those wishes, but instead turned sharply on her heel and quickly entered and closed the door of her bedchamber farther down the hallway. She leaned back against it, her breasts quickly rising and falling in her agitation.

  With her continued arousal…

  Chapter Five

  “You rang, my lord?” James mocked when he entered the bedchamber a few minutes after Julius had sent for him. The cheeky smile left his lips when he saw Julius was not responding to the humor. “What is wrong?”

  “You are what is wrong,” Julius instantly accused. “Firstly you forgot to mention you have a sister until we were almost here, and when I asked what name you would be using while posing as my valet, you chose Franklyn.”

  “Yes…”

  “Without telling me it was your mother’s maiden name.”

  James appeared dumbstruck for several seconds before regaining his wits. “How do you know that?”

  “Because your sister informed me of it a few minutes ago.”

  “Bethany was here?” the other man prompted sharply. “In your bedchamber?”

  Julius could see the outrage building in the younger man’s demeanor. “No, she was most certainly not in my bedchamber,” he instantly assured. Imagining something did not make it real. “She heard us talking and came out of her room to investigate. Do not worry, she did not hear our actual conversation, nor did she see your face before you disappeared down the servant staircase. But it seems, having discovered the name of my valet, she is curious as to whether or not you might be related to her mother. I left her in no doubts that could not be the case.”

  Julius deeply regretted causing the embarrassment he had seen in Bethany’s face before she returned to her bedchamber, but at the time, he could think of no other way to shut down that particular avenue of conversation.

  “You should not have chosen the name Franklyn,” he gently reprimanded the younger man. “In circumstances such as these, it is best to choose aliases which have no relevance to the mission or anyone close to it.” And he, Julius realized, had just revealed far too much of his own knowledge of such things.

  Being a spy for the Crown had been his life for many years, but to the rest of Society, he appeared to be merely a gentleman who had chosen not to join the fight against Napoleon’s despotic rule. His three closest friends knew the truth, of course, as did the Prince Regent.

  From the way James studied him before slowly nodding, Julius believed the younger man now had an inkling of what that truth was too.

  That belief was confirmed when James did not question him more closely on the subject. “Do you think Bethany will continue to pursue the coincidence of the name Franklyn by seeking me out?”

  Julius shook his head. “I believe it is merely a curiosity to her. A possible connection to the past, given that your parents died, quickly followed by yourself, when she was only nine.”

  The younger man gave a pained frown. “I do not think I chose that name deliberately, but I cannot swear to it.”

  Julius’s mood softened. “It must be very frustrating for you to know your beloved sister is in the same house but be unable, for the moment, to openly reveal your presence to her. But hopefully, it will only be for a few days, and then we can oust this charlatan from both your home and lives.”

  “We hope,” James muttered morosely.

  “We will succeed,” Julius stated in a voice that allowed for no other outcome.

  Having moved to stand and look out the window as the two men talked, Julius now found his attention arrested by the shadow of movement in and out of the tall fir trees edging the deer park to one side of the house. For a moment, he could have sworn he—

  Yes, there it was again.

  The moon moved in and out of the cover of the clouds, and initially, Julius had thought the slinking shadow beneath those fir trees to be a fox or possibly a stray dog. But as the moon slipped out from behind the clouds again, he could distinguish it as being a young man. He was slender and dressed in breeches and a dark shirt beneath the warmth of a jacket. His hair and face were hidden beneath the peak of a cloth cap.

  The way he continued to use the cover of the trees to hide his movements indicated he should not be there.

  A poacher, perhaps? If so, he was venturing very close to the house.

  There was a dense wood beyond the deer park, no doubt full of the smaller game a poacher would relish. There was also the River Orwell on the edge of the estate, which was no doubt plentiful in fish. The man appeared to be alone, so Julius could not believe he intended to kill and remove a whole deer.

  Then why was he so close to the house?

  Unless he had come from the house in the first place?

  One of the footmen, or the butler, could be involved with the local poachers, Julius supposed.

  There was also the very lucrative passage of smuggling in this area. Something Julius was all too aware of as he had several times in the past returned to England on one of those contraband ships when he could escape France by no other means. Smuggling was, he knew, a time-honored tradition in this area, with the River Orwell used as a means of transporting that contraband farther inland.

  “Something wrong?” James queried.

  Julius turned from the window. “Not at all,” he dismissed. “I merely wished to inform you of your sister’s curiosity regarding your name.” There was no mistaking his words for anything other than what they were: a dismissal.

  Not because Julius intended to go to bed as yet. No, something about that slender poacher had piqued Julius’s interest, and he had never been one to leave a mystery unsolved.

  * * *

  “A good haul tonight, John.” Bethany smiled at the grizzle-faced middle-aged man as she helped unload the goods from the boats and onto the waiting packhorses. Another hour or so after this and these smuggled goods would be stored away in one or more of the many hidden locations along the River Orwell, close to Hadleigh, where John and many of the other smugglers lived.

  “Aye, good ’nough,” he answered in the local burr, his breath as visible in the icy-cold night as Bethany’s. “They tell me yer uncle has an important visitor. One as ’is a close friend of the Prince Regent ’imself.”

  Bethany had never bothered to ask where or how John gained his information. He just did. No doubt because it was necessary for him to know all that occurred in his small kingdom which might affect his illegal dealings.

  “The Earl of Andover,” she confirmed evenly, not altogether sure how she felt about him after their earlier encounter.

  She still considered the earl to be the handsomest gentleman she had ever met, but his inaction during the war years was questionable. He had also embarrassed her, deliberately, it had seemed, rega
rding her interest in his valet’s name.

  And what of her physical response to merely having his hands grasp her arms, to a degree she was still aware of the heat his touch had engendered inside her?

  “Does ya mean Lord Julius Soames?” John surprised her by enquiring.

  She eyed him curiously. “You know him?”

  “I wouldn’t say as I exactly know him,” the smuggler hedged.

  “Of him, then?”

  John weighed up the question before shaking his head. “We’ve met, shall we say.”

  “And?”

  “He’s a good man,” John muttered.

  Bethany could not envisage any circumstances under which the haughty and condescending Julius Soames and this salt-of-the-earth Suffolk smuggler could or would ever have crossed paths, let alone engaged in conversation.

  Nor did she have the chance to question John further on the subject, because the horses were now all loaded and the smugglers anxious to be on their way.

  But Bethany found herself musing over the puzzle of it as she slowly made her way back through the dense woodland back to the house. John was a local man, as were all his fellow smugglers, and none of them, as far as she was aware, had ever ventured out of Suffolk.

  Which had to mean Julius Soames had been to Suffolk before now. He had said the reason he was here this time was because he had been paying a duty call to his great-aunt in Lowestoft, but that still did not explain how or why he and John could ever have met. It was—

  “I wonder what your uncle would say if he were to learn of your illegal nocturnal dealings with the local smugglers.”

  Bethany was completely startled as she turned toward where that now-familiar drawl came from the shadows of the trees to her left. That break in concentration caused her to pitch forward as she tripped on an exposed tree root, dislodging her hat and allowing her hair to cascade freely down her spine.

  “Careful.” Strong fingers came out of the darkness to grasp her arm and prevent her from falling onto the hardness of the frozen ground. “So, Lady Bethany, it appears you are not all virginal sickening sweetness after all,” Lord Julius Soames, the Earl of Andover, mocked.

  Bethany was unsure which angered her the most, his reference to her as being “all sickening virginal sweetness” or the obvious mockery with which he taunted her with those words.

  Her chin rose. “At least I do not hide behind the tailcoats of the Prince Regent in order to save myself from having to join the army and fight the French!” Utter silence followed her outburst, except for the rapid inhale and exhale of her own breathing, and it was too dark, the clouds now totally obscuring the light of the moon, for her to see Andover’s expression.

  She should apologize for her outspoken remark. As she should have initially dismissed the earl’s accusation of her being involved with the smugglers. It was now too late for her to do the latter, but she could still apologize for her insulting comment.

  She opened her mouth to do so.

  “Do not trouble yourself to make a verbal apology.” It was as if Julius Soames was able to read her thoughts. “This way will more than suffice.” His mouth claimed unerring possession of Bethany’s before she was able to discern his intention.

  It had been the shock of Julius’s life to discover than the slender young “man” he had followed down to the river was, beneath the disguise of a cloth cap and man’s breeches, shirt, and jacket, the utterly feminine Lady Bethany.

  Having walked down to the river, he became stealthier as he neared where he could hear the soft murmur of voices and the rustle of horse harnesses. Rather than reveal his presence, Julius had instead chosen to remain hidden behind a cluster of trees and observe Bethany as she interacted easily with the smugglers.

  Something he noticed instantly was the complete acceptance of Bethany’s presence by those rough and gruff men—implying she had been assisting them for some time—several of whom Julius recognized from his own previous nocturnal landings aboard a smugglers’ ship.

  Julius made a mental note to seek out John before he left Suffolk and thank the other man for not revealing the nature of their own acquaintance.

  Quite what James would make of his sister’s involvement with smugglers, Julius was unsure. No doubt James would feel the same emotions as Julius: a mixture of admiration for her audacity and concern for her slender neck if she was caught.

  The moon had dipped in and out of the clouds several times as Julius watched the men working. Well…watched Bethany.

  It was obviously warm work hefting the barrels of brandy and bails of tobacco and tea chests onto the side of the river, resulting after a few minutes in Bethany having to remove her jacket. This had allowed Julius to easily see, with the assistance of the moon, the way in which the leather breeches outlined the perfect curve of Bethany’s arse every time she bent over to help lift the contraband from the boats and onto the horses.

  The inadvisability of her involvement with the smugglers when her uncle was the local magistrate ceased to be of importance the longer Julius’s gaze remained fixed on the flex and jiggle of the twin orbs of her bottom.

  He could easily imagine how well they would fit into the palms of his hands when he lifted her so that her legs could entwine about his waist and her hot pussy press against the hard length of his cock.

  He should have left before the smugglers finished unloading their goods and without revealing his presence. But he had been unable to make himself stop from simply watching a Bethany who bore very little resemblance to the innocently coy and occasionally gauche Lady Bethany Metford he had met and spent the evening with. She traded insults and ribald remarks with the smugglers with a familiarity that spoke of a friendship of long standing.

  He had still been stunned by that dichotomy half an hour or so later when Bethany pulled on her jacket and parted from the smugglers to begin her walk back home through the forest.

  Julius was completely aroused, mesmerized by the little cygnet having turned into a fully grown swan before his eyes. By seeing she was more than capable of holding her own with rough smugglers.

  It had proved impossible for him to resist making her aware of his presence before taking her in his arms and claiming her lips with his own.

  Here, in the darkness, they ceased to be Lady Bethany Metford and Lord Julius Soames, and instead became simply Bethany and Julius.

  He continued to devour the heat of her lips as his fingers became entwined in the silk of her hair to hold Bethany still as he licked, sucked, and devoured those delicious tasting lips.

  Chapter Six

  Bethany had enjoyed flirtations with some of the local young men, but she had never been kissed like this before, with such deep intensity and by a man experienced enough to know exactly how to rouse her body to her fingertips and toes.

  His mouth possessing hers was magical.

  His lips and teeth against her throat was thrilling.

  His hands caressing the length of her spine before cupping the cheeks of her bottom was exciting.

  The hard length of his arousal pressing against her softness was pure ecstasy.

  Bethany’s body felt as if it was on fire. Tingling. Burning. Her nipples were hard and aching, and between her thighs wet and swollen with that same desire. It was as if she—

  She blinked dazedly as Julius’s lips were wrenched from hers, his fingers tightly gripping her arms as he set her firmly away from him before suddenly releasing her. “What…?”

  “That should not have happened,” Julius rasped harshly.

  Bethany felt as if she had been physically slapped. As if she wanted to slap him. Instead, she glared at Julius for several seconds before turning on her heel and almost running back to the main house as if the devil were chasing her.

  Julius clenched his fists at his sides as Bethany ran from him.

  He should not have kissed her. Not only because he was older and more experienced, but also because her brother had become one of his closest friends.


  But he had been unable to resist this Bethany, no longer shy and sweet, but outspoken and confident. The roughness of her conversation with the smugglers had only added to his sexual arousal.

  Which was absolutely no excuse for the way Julius had kissed her as if his very life had depended upon devouring the taste of her lips and the pleasure of feeling her slender curves pressing against his much harder ones.

  James was going to kill him once he knew Julius had dared to kiss his sister!

  Because Julius couldn’t keep something like this from his new friend. It would be cowardly for him to do so.

  * * *

  “Excuse me?” James stared at Julius incredulously the following morning. “For a brief moment, I thought you had told me that not only did you follow my sister last night when she left the house to then meet up with a group of smugglers at the river, but that after she had parted from them and was making her way back here, you kissed her?”

  Julius had waited until James had placed his breakfast tray on the bedside cabinet before relaying the events of last night to him.

  He gave an inclination of his head as he sat back against the pillows stacked behind him. “That is exactly what I said, yes,” he confirmed calmly.

  Watching the array of emotions that flickered across James’s face—disbelief, confusion, followed by narrow-eyed accusation—took only a few seconds.

  It seemed much longer.

  Julius had debated all the ways in which he might tell James of the events of the previous night. But in the end, Julius had decided that straightforward honesty was the best policy.

  “You kissed Bethany?”

  “Yes.”

  “On the lips?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you touch her too?”

  Julius closed his eyes as he recalled how perfectly the globes of Bethany’s bottom fitted into the palms of his hands. “Yes,” he finally answered.