"Come and have some breakfast. It will make you feel better. I know how passionate you are about food."
"Do you have any dessert?"
"How about some whiskey bread pudding? Once tasted, never forgotten."
"That sounds perfect, Nicholas." Rather like you.
Chapter Eighteen
"I hope you enjoyed your weekend in Oxford." Julia kissed her grandmother's cheek, trying to mask the relief she felt to have her ally back home.
"I did enjoy Oxford in spite of the fact that it's a male bastion. I take comfort in the certainty that it won't always be so. Alex Hamilton is an amusing and gallant companion. Exactly what a woman needs." Dottie noticed Julia's hand immediately. "I'm glad you are wearing your beautiful ring. Tomorrow we'll shop for your bridal gown."
Julia bit her lip.
Dottie was immediately concerned. "Is something troubling you?"
"The last thing I want to do is pour out my troubles the minute you walk through the door. I swore I wouldn't say anything until you were rested after your journey."
"Julia, please don't treat me with kid gloves. It makes me feel that my demise is imminent." Dottie poured two glasses of sherry. "My intuition tells me that Claire is the cause of your trouble."
Julia gratefully accepted the glass of wine. "You are so perceptive."
"Well, it doesn't take a genius to pinpoint the one who always stirs the shit at Berkeley Square. Come and sit down and tell me what's afoot."
Julia took a swallow of the dry sherry. "I told Mother that I had accepted Nicholas's proposal of marriage and showed her my ring." Julia licked her lips and took another sip. "She took great pleasure in informing me that until I turn twenty-one, I cannot marry without parental consent. She made it very clear that she will not give it."
"I see." Dottie ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass.
"Nicholas planned on calling on Mother yesterday to formally ask her for my hand. So I got up early, went around to Curzon Street, and asked him not to come."
"And did he agree?"
"Because I implored him, he put it off for one more day. He has every intention of coming today. Nicholas intends to reason with her, but I know her so well. She's anticipating his visit with relish. She can't wait to thwart and humiliate him."
Dottie nodded wisely and drained her wineglass. "It will do no good to worry your guts to fiddle strings. Be sure to wear something pretty for Nick's visit."
Dottie waited until an hour before Claire usually left on her afternoon social calls. She knocked on her daughter's bedchamber door, knowing she would be putting the finishing touches to her coiffure. She waited until Claire dismissed her maid, and then sat down in a blue velvet wing chair.
"While I was away you succeeded in stealing your daughter's happiness."
Claire raised her chin. "I have only Julia's best interests at heart."
"We both know that you only ever consider your own best interests. But this time you have miscalculated, my dear. If your thoughts weren't so shallow, you would realize that your chances of remarriage would be much greater once you have your daughter off your hands."
"If you think to change my decision by insulting me, you may think again."
"I care naught for your decision, since we both know it isn't yours to make."
Claire's eyes narrowed and she pressed her lips together.
"You are fully aware that before Julian left for war, he appointed me Julia's legal guardian."
"So, it comes to this, you evil creature. You will finally stoop to using blackmail against me!"
"I have no intention of stooping to anything as shabby as blackmail. I shall rely on a much more formidable tool: shame," Dottie said serenely. "Julia has no idea that her father didn't trust you to be her guardian. I've kept your shameful secret from her, and from everyone else, for four years. Think of how shamed you would be if she found out that her father considered you an unfit mother. Think of how much shame you would endure if your titled friends knew. Imagine the shame of it being exposed in Scandal by the Ton."
Dottie saw the blood drain from Claire's face.
"Allow me to offer a solution. I suggest that you become the perfect 'Mother of the Bride'. Send an announcement to the newspaper that your beloved daughter Julia is betrothed to Viscount Nicholas Royston to let the ton know how proud you are. Send wedding invitations to all your noble friends and offer them the hospitality of Ashridge Place for the weekend of August 23rd. And when Lord Royston comes to ask you for your daughter's hand in marriage, graciously inform him how happy you are that Julia will be Lady Royston."
Julia was at her writing desk when she heard the door knocker. She hadn't been able to concentrate on her book because she knew that Nicholas would be coming to Berkeley Square. She jumped up and raced down the stairs in time to see Hastings greet their visitor.
"Nicholas, I fully intend to be at your side when you formally ask Mother for my hand." I won't repeat that you're wasting your time. But when she refuses you, I intend to leave with you.
Hastings returned to the reception hall. "Lady Shelborne will see you, Lord Royston. If you will follow me." The butler moved toward the stairs and Julia kept pace with Nicholas.
The pair was ushered into Claire's sitting room, and Julia raised her chin and braced herself.
"Good evening, Lady Shelborne." Nicholas nodded pleasantly.
"Good evening, Lord Royston. Won't you have a seat?"
Nicholas led Julia to a chair, waited until she was seated, then moved behind her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Lady Shelborne, I'm here to formally ask for your daughter's hand in marriage. I have made arrangements for the nuptials to take place at St. John's in Royston on August 23rd. I realize it must seem like short notice, but neither Julia nor I want to wait any longer."
"I understand a bridegroom's impatience, Lord Royston." Claire gave him her most gracious smile. "I fully realize that this is simply a formality, but I appreciate your gallantry in observing the proprieties. You do us great honor, my lord, asking Julia to become Lady Royston."
"I assure you the honor is mine, Lady Shelborne."
Julia sat quietly, both stunned and bemused.
Claire stood up and held out her hand. "Congratulations, Lord Royston." After she shook his hand, she bent and kissed her daughter's cheek. "I wish you every happiness, my dear."
The door opened and Dottie entered, accompanied by Hastings carrying a silver tray. "I believe champagne is in order." She shook the viscount's hand and offered her heartfelt congratulations.
Julia arose and embraced her grandmother. I don't know how you did it, but I thank you with all my heart. She took the glass of champagne that Hastings proffered and laughed happily.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this Congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy Matrimony."
Through her wedding veil, Julia glanced up at the man who towered beside her and saw that he was gazing down at her with adoration. The scent of the Tudor roses she carried filled the air.
In an unusual show of accord Dottie and Claire had both accompanied the bride down the aisle.
Julia's heart overflowed with happiness as Nicholas solemnly pledged, "I will" when the reverend asked if he would love her for as long as they lived. Then in a clear voice she too pledged "I will" when the reverend asked if she would obey and serve him for the rest of their lives.
"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?"
Julia was slightly surprised when Dottie took her hand and placed it in that of her groom.
"I Nicholas, take thee Julia, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth." He squeezed her hand.
She gazed up into his eyes. "I Julia, take thee Nicholas, to my w
edded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth." Tradition demanded that the groom plighted his troth, while the bride simply had to give hers.
Julia watched as Michael Royston, wearing his brave red uniform, handed his brother the wedding ring. Then Nicholas slipped the wide gold band onto the fourth finger of her left hand, and repeated, "With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee honor, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow."
The reverend then said solemnly, "Forasmuch as Nicholas and Julia have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."
Charlotte Fane took Julia's bridal bouquet, and helped her raise her veil.
Then Nicholas bent his head and kissed his bride tenderly.
The small wedding party moved into the vestry so that the church registry could be signed, then the organ music swelled triumphantly as Lord and Lady Royston walked up the aisle to be congratulated by their invited guests and the people of Royston who had gathered outside the church to join in the celebration.
Julia and Nicholas laughed as they were showered with rice and rose petals. The guests who had been inside the church mingled with Royston's servants and tenants to congratulate the newlyweds. The bride and groom, hand in hand, walked through the priory gardens, and everyone followed them back to Ashridge Place. Inside there was a formal wedding banquet for the invited guests, and outside there was an informal party where everyone who lived in Royston gathered to celebrate.
"I honestly believe Claire is enjoying playing hostess to her important friends," Dottie declared.
"I'm afraid Mother is in for a shock. Charlotte confided that her father is courting a widow."
"Oh my, Claire swallowed her pride when she decided that John Fane was husband material. Ah well," Dottie said philosophically, "They do say that pride goeth before a fall." She nodded toward Earl and Countess Spencer. "John and Lavinia make such an odd couple. He's a thoroughly decent fellow who has the misfortune of being brother to two of the most notorious females in England, and yet he wed Lavinia who is cut from the same cloth. Lavinia and John's mother hate and detest each other and poor John is stuck in the middle. The women in his life are a sore trial to him. So you see, we are not the only family who are at odds with each other."
Julia winked at Dottie. "They do serve a purpose. They are a constant supply of gossip for Scandal by the Ton. Keep your eye on Caro Ponsonby; trouble is her middle name."
"Yes, I must go and warn your new brother-in-law Michael that the chit is only fifteen."
Nicholas overheard Dottie. "Lieutenant Royston is a reformed man, or so he professes."
Julia rolled her eyes. "I believe him, but thousands wouldn't."
In the late afternoon, the sounds of laughter and music lured everyone outside, where the wedding guests joined the villagers in dancing.
Nicholas needed no urging to partner his bride, and then Lord Grenville, the Foreign Secretary, claimed a dance. When it was Michael's turn, he stole a kiss, and declared that Nicholas was the luckiest man in the universe today.
Julia eagerly danced with all her husband's tenant farmers, while Nicholas and Michael danced with their wives and daughters.
Just before the sun set, the new Lady Royston was lifted into a pony cart festooned with flowers, and the Royston tenants hoisted Nicholas onto their shoulders. The bride and groom were escorted to Royston Hall where the celebration continued into the night.
Chapter Nineteen
As the newlyweds sat in Royston's Great Hall, acknowledging all the toasts that were being offered, Nicholas was flooded with desire. He hadn't closed his eyes last night. His blood had been too hot and he could not stop thinking about Julia in his bed. His glance was drawn again and again to his bride. Nicholas thought her radiant, as if a light shone from her like a jewel. She is my jewel. He felt a moment of pride like he had never known before.
As his dark eyes roamed over her possessively, Julia felt a sensation she'd never experienced in public before. It began in the pit of her belly and radiated upward to set her breasts tingling. Then it traveled downward to between her legs. This man who sat beside her with hot desire in his eyes affected her body. Her pulse began to race at a frantic pace and her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing.
Nicholas murmured, "Am I under a spell? You grow more beautiful and desirable with each hour."
In a trice, all changed for Julia. Before they were wed, she had been extremely eager for Nicholas to make love to her. But suddenly she felt shy, and more than a tiny bit afraid. Julia reached for her champagne to give her courage. At the same moment Nicholas reached out and removed her glass. When their hands touched for an instant, it felt as if a flame ran up her arm.
"To deprive me of more champagne is not playing fair, Nicholas."
He laughed. "I'm going to play with you all night when I get you to bed."
Michael overheard his brother's randy promise. "You look as if you would like to eat her," Michael said.
"I would," Nicholas replied suggestively. A heavy, sweet ache suddenly flooded his loins. His dark eyes showed clearly the desire he felt.
Julia knew that any minute, Nicholas would rise from the table to take her upstairs. She turned to Michael. "Please don't let anyone follow us to the bridal chamber," she pleaded.
Nicholas watched her lovely lips as she spoke to his brother. He wanted the taste of her in his mouth; he wanted the feel of her beneath his body. He pushed himself back from the table and stood.
Julia's insides fluttered as if they were filled with a million butterfly wings.
He saw the hesitation in her violet eyes, and swept her into his arms, holding her against his heart.
A great cheer rose in the hall, and as Julia hid her face against his chest, Nicholas grinned. "Lady Royston and I bid you all good night."
"You're trembling." Nick set his bride's feet to the carpet of the master bedchamber.
"I asked Michael to keep anyone from following us," Julia said breathlessly.
He threw the bar across the door. "They won't get in, even if they do come up." It suddenly dawned on him that she was still apprehensive. "Surely you're not afraid of me, my love?" He cupped her face, gazed worshipfully into her eyes, dropped a hungry glance on her mouth, and then drew her close for a tender kiss. "Julia, I adore you."
His hands and his lips were so gentle, so reverent, it brought a lump to her throat. Slowly, his mouth became more demanding, and his hands dropped from her face and slid around her body, bringing her soft curves close against his hard length. He embraced her tenderly until her body stopped trembling, then he once more lifted her against his heart and carried her toward the bed. "Your bridal gown is so lovely; I don't want to damage it." He turned her back toward him and with gentle hands he undid the buttons.
When the gown fell about her hips, she stepped from it and stood before him in her lace petticoat. Miraculously she realized that her shyness had fallen away with her gown. She helped him slip off his jacket, undid the buttons on his shirt, and then reached inside to stroke the slabs of muscle on his powerful chest. Everything about him was virile, hard, and overtly male, making her feel delicately soft and feminine.
Nicholas sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt before her. His eager hands lifted her petticoat, then glided up her long legs to remove her blue satin garters, and then her stockings. "I intend to carry you to bed and peel off your stockings every night, sweetheart." His deep voice was husky with desire and his eyes were like dark smoke. With infinite tenderness his hands cupped her breasts to caress and stro
ke them. Then he leaned forward and took a lovely pink nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking it with his tongue until it hardened into a tight little bud.
His touch stole her senses; he was far more potent than champagne. This romantic night was a thousand times more intensely compelling than the other encounters they'd shared.
As his hands caressed the silken flesh of her thighs, his senses were saturated with the feel of her skin, the scent of her dark curls and the taste of her honeyed mouth. "Lord God, how you make me quiver." Nicholas lifted off her petticoat, then quickly disrobed, scattering their clothes on the carpet. He laid her back on the bed and came over her in the dominant position, whispering love words that flowed over her like champagne and silk.
The heat of his body seeped into her flesh, setting her aflame with a raging desire that threatened to burn out of control and consume her. She was panting with need, and her breasts rose and fell against his powerful muscled chest. "Love me, Nicholas. Love me now."
He unleashed his long-starved passion. He had crossed the high point of no return. He was aflame and lusting as he opened her thighs and lowered his weight onto her. Nicholas thrust hard and deep, and Julia cried out from the unfamiliar pleasure-pain. She stopped thinking. She only wanted to feel the fullness of him inside her.
When he began to thrust, his mouth claimed hers. His tongue also thrust in and out in the sensual rhythm in which lovers had indulged since the dawn of time. He felt her arch beneath him and her tongue dueled with his, arousing him to madness. He finally indulged the fierce desire that had been riding him for months.
She became aware of a delicate fluttering inside, then an ache deep within began to build, making her arch her mons into his powerful thrusts as he lifted her toward climax. She hovered on the brink, as time seemed to stop. Then with passionate daring, she plunged over the edge of the precipice. Her feelings were so intense she bit his shoulder. The initial sunburst was followed by intense throbs, then long shuddering pulsations.
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