“Laddie has Meg’s new gloves,” the golden-haired giant said.
“How exciting,” Aidan replied drolly.
“Are you Aidan?”
“I am.”
The young man thrust out his huge hand. “I’m Jonas Eaton.”
The simpleton. Easy. A little compassion would not go amiss. He took the man’s hand. Jonas was as breathtakingly handsome as Garrett had described. Good God, this young man would set London society on its ear. The young ladies would be completely agog, in spite of his limitations. “Good to meet you.”
Before he could speak further, the dog and the girl whirled around the corner and made a complete stop before them. The dog eyed him suspiciously, and a warning growl emitted from the beast, who opened his mouth far enough that the gloves dropped to the floor. The girl, Meg, picked them up, frowning at the saliva dripping from them.
Aidan held out his hand toward the collie. “We’ve met before, Laddie, remember?”
Laddie gave him a good sniff, and recognition dawned. Garrett had brought the Scotch collie—more of a half-grown puppy at the time—for a short visit in February when Garrett had been in Standon. Laddie’s tail wagged and he gave Aidan a friendly woof. “There we are, friends again.” He scratched the dog’s ears for good measure.
“Meg, this is your cousin, Aidan,” Jonas enthused.
Jesus, it was as if a feminine version of Garrett stood before him. Her hazel-green eyes blinked, then a shy smile broke out, making her prettiness all the more apparent. She had as many freckles as his uncle. Aidan reached for her hand and bent over it. “My distinct pleasure, Miss Hughes.”
She laughed at his exaggerated bow and faux pompous tone. At least she realized that he wasn’t being serious.
When he released her hand, she gave him an extravagant curtsey. “Lord Wollstonecraft.”
He chuckled. Yes, he liked her already.
“Aidan!” Abigail stood in the doorway, a warm smile on her lovely face.
He strode toward her. “Good to see you, Aunt Abigail.”
“Oh, I’m your aunt. What a development. Please, call me Abbie.” She took his hand and squeezed it affectionately. “We did not receive word of your visit.”
“Apparently the mail is not as efficient as believed.”
“I’ll tell Garrett you’re here,” Jonas said. “He’s in the barn. Then I’ll fetch Tens.”
“Thank you.” Aidan assumed ‘Tens’ was his father, and his mouth quirked with amusement at the nickname.
“Your grandfather is in his private study. Go and see him, and I will order tea. Are you hungry?” Abbie asked.
Food. He would have to make an effort. “I wouldn’t say no to beefsteak sandwiches.”
“Consider it done. I’ll send word when it’s ready. Come, Megan.”
Impulsively, Megan kissed his cheek. “I am happy you’re here.”
He was left alone in the hallway, as Laddie had followed the women. Damn it, all this flustering and emotion was spiking his anxieties. Dr. Bevan had stressed there may be residual disquiet from his decline into debauchery.
Taking a cleansing and calming breath, he headed to his grandfather’s study. The door was ajar, so he stepped inside. There he sat, reading over documents. He looked up, and the astonishment was clear on his face. Overall his grandfather hadn’t changed much—a few more lines etched into his handsome face, fewer threads of black running through his hair, for it had been close to ten months since they’d seen each other. “Grandfather.”
He stood, and immediately strode toward Aidan, taking him into a warm embrace. “Welcome home, Grandson. Welcome home.” His grandfather’s voice shook, which caused Aidan’s throat to grow tighter.
Garrett burst into the room. “Aidan!” His uncle grabbed his arm and pulled him into a crushing bear hug. “You’re home at last.”
Yes. Home. The word conjured up warm memories and a feeling of safety and comfort—things that had been lacking in his life of late.
Damn it all, everyone seemed genuinely happy to see him. But would his father be as pleased? Could he blame him if he weren’t?
* * * *
It wasn’t often that Julian could find time alone with Alberta, but today he wished to take things beyond ardent kisses. Ever since she and her brother-in-law, Jonas, had taken possession of her late uncle’s small manor house last September, his world had been turned upside down.
Julian had not seen Alberta during most of the spring due to parliament being in session, but he’d never stopped thinking of her. An omen, to be sure, proving that his feelings had already moved beyond friendly affection. While in London, he’d briefly considered taking a trip to the Crimson Club to banish his sexual frustrations, but found he hadn’t wanted a casual encounter. Damn it, he wanted Alberta.
Frankly, he was tired of sipping tepid tea in her parlor. He gazed at her from over the rim of his cup. Fiona, the twins’ mother and his beloved wife, had died more than twenty-five years past. No other woman had managed to capture his interest. Except Alberta. With her glorious crown of wheat-colored hair, pretty face, and lush figure, she certainly appealed to him physically, but it was more than that.
The thirty-nine-year-old widow spoke to his heart. She was a calming presence, generous and kind, vowing to her late husband that she would look after his younger brother, Jonas, and ensure that he was never sent to an asylum because of his intellectual and mental shortcomings.
Julian’s caution seemed ridiculous in light of his intense feelings. He should be taking what sparked between them further. But, damn it all, he was frightened into inaction because he could not bear more heartache and loss. Fiona’s death had scarred him. And what was etched on his heart and soul? The curse. Placing another woman he cared for deeply in possible danger made him hesitate.
With his youngest son, younger brother, and, it appeared, his father accepting love, it was well past time he showed the same conviction and courage. Enough vacillating. Perhaps there was still hope that the curse could be broken.
Julian placed his cup on the tray. “Alberta.”
She looked up at him. “Hm?”
“Let’s go to bed.”
Alberta arched an eyebrow at him, her expression confused. “Pardon?”
“I’ve shocked you.”
“Heavens, no. I’ve waited months for you to make the suggestion.” She placed her cup on the tray, and Julian took note of her hand shaking slightly. “I was beginning to wonder if I would have to take the bold step and propose it. But then, I thought perhaps you may not wish to move forward on such a path.” She paused, and huffed out a short breath. “I know of the curse. Abbie told me, as did my late uncle in his letters. Do you believe in it?”
“I do…to a certain degree. But there is a way to break it.”
“Oh? By having sex in the middle of the afternoon?”
Julian stared blankly at her.
“I am teasing.”
His mouth twisted into an amused grin. “Apologies. It’s a touchy subject—the curse, not sex.” She laughed lightly in response. “Riordan recently located ancient papers in the attic that stated all living Wollstonecraft men must form a love bond within a twelve-month period.” He tugged on his earlobe, giving her a sheepish look. “Now that I speak it aloud, it sounds completely foolish. The truth is Fiona’s death left me bereft. I hesitated—because of the curse, to an extent, but also because I did not want my heart engaged.” He paused. Might as well lay it all out. “I was afraid to love.”
“Love?” she whispered.
He stood and held out his hand. “Come, and let us make love.”
“It has been a long time, Julian,” Alberta murmured. “More than three years, since Reese passed.” She slipped her hand in his, and her touch sent a bolt of desire through him, arousing him further.
He gently
pulled her into his embrace. “It’s been close to two years for me,” he whispered hotly in her ear. Then he nibbled on the curve of her neck. When she moaned softly, he took her hand once again and led her upstairs. Julian hesitated. “Your room?”
Alberta smiled. “This way.”
Once inside the room, he was taken by cozy yellow shades on the walls, carpets, and bedding. “I confess that one of the first rooms I had renovated was this one. The furniture, including the bed, are recent purchases,” she said.
Julian glanced toward the four-post canopy bed with yellow sheers draped across the upper posts. “Beautiful, like you.”
She blushed, making her even more attractive. God, how he wanted her. He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it onto the yellow rose divan. Unbuttoning his waistcoat, then his shirt, he tossed both next to his coat. Alberta’s gaze remained on him, her eyes swimming with desire. “Should I keep going?” he asked, giving her a sensual smile.
“Please.”
He stood before her naked and fully aroused. Alberta’s gaze traveled the length of him.
“Oh, my, Julian,” she gasped. “You are…quite stunning.” Reaching for the buttons on her tea gown, she licked her bottom lip, causing his cock to jerk in response. “I do hope we will not be disturbed.” She kicked her slippers aside.
Julian marched to the door, closed it, and turned the key. “Jonas is with Garrett this afternoon, working and training in the stables.” He tossed the key on the bedside table, then leaned against the poster, crossing his arms. “Please, continue. Unless you need my assistance?”
“No, I’ve managed without a lady’s maid for years.” The copper-colored gown pooled at her feet. Next, the petticoats, then her front-lacing corset. She stood before him in a chemise and stockings, allowing him to look his fill. Curvy, lush. Her nipples were hard, pressing against the sheer material. Alberta pulled the garment over her head. Her breasts were full, glorious, and he ached to touch them. “Keep the stockings on?” he asked, his voice husky.
“As you wish.”
In a few quick strides, he stood before her and gathered her into his arms. They were skin against skin, igniting the flame that sizzled between them. Julian captured her lips with his, kissing her fiercely. She ran her fingers through his hair, returning the kiss with equal fervor.
They tumbled to the bed, touching and kissing. Already this had moved beyond his few casual affairs. He removed the pins that held her coiffure in place, and her silken locks fell to her shoulders. As he nuzzled her neck, inhaling the rosewater scent of her hair, his hand trailed down her side and slid between her legs. God. Wet. Inserting two fingers, his thumb found that sensitive nub and he stroked her, faster, as she moaned and arched her back under his ministrations. With a piercing cry, she reached her peak. Damn it, he couldn’t wait. Rising above her, he gripped his cock, moving it across her slick entrance.
“Yes, Julian,” she urged, raising her hips to meet him.
He plunged into her, groaning as her inner muscles clutched him. They found a heart-pulsing rhythm, moving together. Alberta gasped, reaching another climax. Close to his own, he started to pull out.
She grasped his arse and held in him place. “No. Stay.”
About to question her, his peak slammed him hard. He groaned long and loud, and it ended on an awed whisper of her name.
Alberta gently swiped aside the lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead, and Julian heard a door slam.
“Tens! Bert! Where are you?”
They stared at each other, still breathing hard. Alberta’s eyes widened in shock. “Jonas!” she whispered harshly. “Quick, we must dress.”
The heavy tread of boots hitting the stairs grew ever closer. Julian chuckled. “Too late, my sweet. We are caught, good and proper. How fortuitous I locked the door.” He had no sooner spoken when the handle rattled.
“Bert, are you in there?” Jonas called out. “Tens?”
“I’ll be out shortly!” Alberta buried her face in Julian’s chest. “Oh, drat it all.”
“Jonas, we will meet you presently in the parlor,” Julian called out.
There was a long pause. “Oh. Right.” The sound of his footfalls grew quieter as he descended the stairs.
“I believe he has deduced what we’ve been up to,” Julian laughed. “Especially since Garrett and I gave him the frank talk a few months past.”
“How mortifying,” Alberta moaned.
Julian rolled his hips. He was still semi-erect, and could easily go again. Gratifying to discover he still possessed a modicum of stamina. He gently tilted her chin and met her gaze. “No need to be ashamed or embarrassed.”
She smiled. “Truly, I’m not. Well, perhaps a little at Jonas guessing. This was wonderful, and it changes everything, doesn’t it?”
He kissed her, his tongue plunging deep. Now fully erect, he moved in and out of her, increasing the pace as he laid her shapely leg on his hip. “Yes, everything.”
Alberta moaned. “But Jonas—”
“Can wait.”
Twenty minutes later, they strode arm and arm into the parlor. Jonas looked everywhere except at them, obviously flustered.
“What is it, Jonas? No need to be uncomfortable, lad.”
He nodded, then smiled. “Aidan is home! I came to tell you.”
Julian’s breath caught. His oldest son. God.
Alberta clutched his hand. “Go to him. It will be all right, Julian. Speak from your heart. Mend the bridge between you.”
“Thank you.” Her words gave him the courage to do exactly what she’d suggested. Mend the bridge. Speak from the heart. After saying his goodbyes, he headed toward home at a brisk pace.
Julian entered the front hall and Martin stepped forward, taking his hat. “Master Aidan is in the earl’s private study, along with Master Garrett.”
“Thank you, Martin.” He took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. Upon entering the parlor, he froze as Aidan turned to face him. He was thin; his cheekbones were prominent. Father and son stared at each other across the expanse of carpet. It might as well have been a ravine. Aidan’s expression was guarded, his shoulders straight, as if bracing for a scolding. Julian recognized the stance from years of confrontations. Be damned if he would reproach his son. He crossed the space between them and pulled Aidan into an embrace, something he had not done for longer than he cared to remember. Aidan stood stiffly, not responding. Julian didn’t allow it to deter him; he merely hugged his son tighter. “Aidan. I don’t have the words, except to say I love you. I always have. I am glad you’re home,” Julian whispered.
With a strangled sound that to Julian resembled a choked sob, Aidan returned the hug.
His son was home. Safe. And in his arms.
All was right with the world.
Chapter 6
Aidan hadn’t expected such an affectionate welcome from his father. And when was the last time he’d said he loved him? When he was six? Eight? Ten? Certainly not after the age of ten. Aidan wasn’t sure he could form words. Would he fall completely to pieces? Instead he gathered his inner courage, which had been stored away and safely protected these past several months, and said, “I love you, too.”
They parted, and his father smiled. “Have you seen Riordan?”
“I journeyed there first.”
“Ah. He is well?”
“Exceedingly happy, from all accounts. Oh.” Aidan stepped away from his father, pulled an envelope out of the side pocket of his coat, and passed it to his grandfather. “From Mary Tuttle. I like her. She will be a welcome addition to the family. With Abbie and Megan already in residence, what is another woman about the place?” The men chuckled. “I was practically mowed down by my cousin and Garrett’s collie. And I was knocked to the floor by Jonas Eaton.” Aidan rubbed his shoulder at the memory. “Abbie is
ordering tea, by the by, and will inform us when it is ready.”
“In the meantime, please, sit,” his grandfather said. “All together again, except for Riordan, but he is here in spirit, and will be here for good in about a month’s time. I cannot be more pleased.”
They sat on the opposite side of the large study, on the leather settee and wingchairs. Then silence descended, as if no one knew what to say next. Despite the affectionate welcome, awkwardness had settled in. It was time to say his piece while they were alone.
“I’ve lived in idleness and discontent, slipping slowly into the dark pit of debauchery.” Aidan met the men’s gazes. “I am not being flippant; I’m speaking the truth, as hard as it may be for you to hear. I’ve made a complete muddle of my life. We all are quite aware of how low I descended—apparently, the rest of society is as well. I am not proud of my behavior. Allow me to apologize for it, and for any disrespect that I have shown.” He paused, uncomfortable, but soldiered on. “I also regret any shame that has been reflected on the family.”
His father cleared his throat. “You are forgiven, Aidan. You were long ago.”
“Thank you. Now I have to learn how to forgive myself. There will be a time I’ll be able to speak of it in more detail, but it is still too…raw, for lack of a better word. Have patience with me.”
“Of course,” Garrett said. “Take all the time you need. Just one question: What about Delaney?”
Aidan shrugged. “I want to put the incident out of my mind.”
“I’ve asked Edwin Seward to trace his background and whereabouts, but the man has disappeared. All he’s discovered is that he’s originally from Ireland. Perhaps he has returned there,” Garrett said. “I am awaiting the final report.”
“Let’s hope he’s gone from England. I was going to wait to mention this, but I believe it best to put my plan in motion as soon as possible,” Aidan stated.
“Shouldn’t you rest before taking on any enterprise?” his grandfather asked, concern in his tone.
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