“Where Lady Agnes Westerfield worked her magic,” Julia said softly.
“She did indeed.” Randall had been a furious, snarling hedgehog of a child before Lady Agnes. She hadn’t tried to restrain him. Instead, she asked why he was so angry. His rage and hurt tumbled out of him as he spoke of the pain and humiliation, the ugly dangerous pranks he’d suffered at Turville. She had listened quietly. Most important, she told him that he had good reason to be angry. After that, he had started to heal.
“I used to wonder if Branford’s behavior was my fault. That something about me triggered that violence in him. But it wasn’t me, was it? He was always brutal.” Julia sighed. “I wonder how many other people he injured. Too many, I fear.”
“I know you didn’t intend to kill him, but you did many people a favor when that happened.” Randall smiled wryly. “There is justice in the fact that he died by accident at the hands of one of his victims.”
“I wish it had been other hands. Daventry is a formidable enemy.”
“I was in the army and estranged from the family for years, and had only a vague knowledge that Branford married, then died a year or two later.” Randall searched his memory. “His wife was Lady Julia Raines, daughter of the Duke of Castleton?”
“Your memory is good.” She smiled mockingly. “I can’t say that being a duke’s daughter has done me much good.”
A startling idea struck him. He had been attracted to her since the moment they met. He desired her, but he also respected her strength and he had a powerful desire to protect her from the threats she didn’t deserve. God knew that she needed protection. “I have a solution to your situation,” he said slowly. “You could marry me.”
She stared. “Are you mad? Even if you aren’t insane, your Uncle Daventry will go berserk if you marry me.”
“When I was badly wounded in Spain, I was sent to London and placed in his care,” he said with acid amusement. “I would have died of neglect in his attic if Ashton hadn’t invaded Daventry House to rescue me. The idea of enraging the old devil does not distress me.”
Expression horrified, she said, “I understand your anger, but I do not wish to be the instrument of your revenge on your uncle, Major.”
“That is only a minor reason,” he said seriously. “The Randall family has treated you abominably. Because of Branford, you lost your name, your rank, your home, and your child. As my wife, you could regain all those things, as is only just.”
“So you would marry me for justice’s sake?” Her smile was twisted. “That is honorable, but a marriage is made between a man and a woman, not two principles. We don’t even like each other, Major Randall. Thank you for your most flattering offer, but I must decline.”
Her refusal hurt far more than it should have. So much that he recognized that his offer had not been casual. “You have reason to dislike me, Lady Julia. I was appallingly rude to you in the past. But not because I don’t like you. Rather…the contrary.”
They stared at each other and the unspoken emotions both had tried to ignore flared to insistent life. She swallowed hard. “I admit that since the first time we’ve met, there has been this—this connection between us. But it is awkward and difficult, and not the basis for marriage.”
“No?” he said softly. “The connection is attraction. The difficulty has come from fighting it. Perhaps it will become easier if we stop fighting. Our mutual attraction might become the foundation of an admirable marriage.”
She frowned. “Why did you fight that attraction, Major Randall? You’ve acted as if you hated me from the moment we met.”
“As a serving officer, I was in no position to marry.” But that answer wasn’t good enough. He forced himself to go deeper. “And…the degree of desire was alarming. I’ve never been drawn so strongly to a woman. It was profoundly unsettling. But I find that the idea of marrying you feels very right.”
Tears glinted in her eyes. “You leave me no choice but the ugly truth, Major. Perhaps if we had met when I was sixteen, simple attraction would have been enough. We might have married happily and had a nursery full of children by now.
“But I am not that girl any more.” She closed her eyes in pain. “I can’t bear the idea of marriage. The thought of lying with a man makes me want to run screaming. You have saved my life, Major, but I am no damsel rescued from the dragon. I am too old and scarred to be an innocent bride. If you wish to help me, escort me to Liverpool and lend me enough money to take a ship to America. As heir to Daventry, you will have no trouble finding a wife who is suitable. A sweet-tempered young woman like Sarah Townsend. Not a battered widow with nothing left to give.”
“Damnation!” he snapped. “Why is everyone trying to pair me off with Sarah Townsend? She’s a lovely girl, but a girl. You are a woman, and the one that I want.”
“You are accustomed to having what you want,” Julia said dryly. “But surely a little thought will persuade you that a woman who won’t be a wife is not what you want.”
He studied her slim figure and weary, indomitable eyes as he thought about her words. “What you say is entirely sensible, yet marriage is not a matter of sense. I want you to be part of my life, Julia. We have both survived great pain. I don’t want a bright, uncomplicated girl who has no understanding of shadows. You and I can know each other in a much deeper way. Does that have no value? Might we not develop trust and friendship enough to eventually become husband and wife in truth?”
“Perhaps that is possible,” she said, her voice aching. “But even if it is—I must reveal the final truth because it is an insurmountable obstacle. I don’t believe that I will ever be able to bear a child, Major. Branford…damaged me. You are heir to an earldom. You owe it to your heritage to marry a woman who can give you a son.”
So Julia, who would know, believed herself barren. Unable to sit still, he rose and moved restlessly across the hut. There wasn’t even room for proper pacing.
The principal duty of a lord was to breed another lord for the future. Yet Randall wasn’t a lord now, and his life had never been about the earldom of Daventry.
Julia had leaned back against the wall, eyes closed and her expression drained. In his previous experience of her, she had always been relentlessly self-effacing. Now she stood revealed with quiet strength and delicate beauty. Before her catastrophic marriage, she must have been a strikingly attractive girl. A major prize in the Marriage Mart. Daventry would want nothing less for his heir.
This discussion had to be even more difficult for her than for him. Yet she had revealed painful truths because of a bone-deep honesty that called to him. The more they talked, the more he wanted her as his wife.
He also wanted her as a lover. Attraction was mysterious. Her quiet grace and petite, perfectly proportioned body had entranced him the first time he saw her. Could he bear a wife he desired, yet could not touch?
If there was any chance she would overcome the horror of her first marriage, he’d be willing to take the risk. He’d taken far worse ones.
Chapter 6
After such a long. traumatic day, Julia had barely enough energy left to be tense, despite Randall’s bizarre suggestion. She watched as he moved restlessly around the small room. His limp was the worst she’d seen it, probably from his hard riding to rescue her after he’d already traveled all day. She hoped he was right that Crockett and his men wouldn’t find them. Taking on four enemies at once was a lot even for Randall.
Her feelings were confused. On a purely emotional level, being in the presence of a powerful man who was skilled at violence made her want to cower in a corner. Yet he had none of the mad cruelty of her husband. Randall had behaved—was behaving—with impeccable honor and courage.
Strange to think that he and Branford were cousins. She saw no similarity between them. Randall was a warrior, intense and sometimes prickly. Yet that violence was controlled. She couldn’t imagine him hurting a person for his pleasure.
Bringing their awkward, unwelcome connection
into the open had been a relief. As Randall gazed down at the small fire, one hand braced against the wall above, she was reminded of Greek statues of athletes. No, he had a leaner, rangier build than the Greek ideal, and his blond hair and chiseled features were Nordic. A Viking deity, not one born of the Mediterranean.
She wondered what he was thinking. Likely he was readjusting his view of her now that he knew who she was, and that she was unsuited to be any man’s wife. If he felt disappointment at her refusal, he’d recover quickly. He could have any woman he wanted. She’d realized that the first time she’d seen him smile.
He raised his gaze, expression pensive. “There are no certainties in life, Julia. Many healthy young couples are not blessed with children. Fertile couples may have only daughters. The fact that you are barren doesn’t persuade me that I don’t want you for a wife. Will you marry me, Lady Julia Raines?”
Her jaw dropped from shock. “You really are insane! Children might not interest you now, but that may change in the future.” She shook her head, having trouble believing he was serious. “Even if you don’t care about children, you can’t possibly want to marry a woman who won’t share your bed. Unless you want to marry a duke’s daughter so flawed you have a license for adultery?”
His brows arched. “Hardly. I agree that if it’s unthinkable that you might ever feel differently, there could be no true marriage. But as you say, things change. I swear that I would cut off my hand rather than hurt you. Try to believe that. With enough trust and enough friendship, perhaps you will overcome your distaste for men.”
“I’m not sure there is enough trust in the world for that,” she said helplessly.
Yet as she studied his cool, handsome face, she realized how powerfully she wanted to be different. She would give twenty years of her life to be normal, as happy and uncomplicated as she’d been before she married. At sixteen, she’d yearned for a man’s touch. She’d enjoyed stolen kisses with the dizzy delight of the nubile girl she’d been. God help her, she’d gone to her marriage bed eagerly.
Wanting to be convinced that she wasn’t insane, she asked, “Even if it’s possible for me to change, how can I marry a near stranger? I don’t even know your given name!”
“Alexander David Randall.”
Alexander. She turned the name in her mind. It had edges, like he did. “Does anyone ever call you Alex?”
“Occasionally. Mostly I’m Randall. Does knowing that make a difference?”
“Alexander the Conqueror,” she said wryly. “How much of your persistence is to prove that you can win even against impossible odds?”
“That’s a fair question.” He thought before shaking his head. “My offer isn’t about winning. It’s about being with you. You have some quality I find…soothing.”
“I’ve been told that I’m soothing by women in labor, but never by a man in the prime of life. As a quality, it’s the opposite of passion, I think.” Yet she liked that he thought of her that way. “You strike me as a passionate man, Major Randall. I still can’t believe that you would be happy in a marriage without physical intimacy.”
“There would have to be an agreement between us that you are willing to try to change how you feel.” He cocked his head thoughtfully. “If you will grant me permission to touch you, in return I will promise to stop whenever you tell me to.”
They were venturing into very deep waters here. Remembering how crazed Branford would become when he was aroused, she asked, “Wouldn’t that be difficult? Desire is not easily controlled.”
“I’m extremely good at control.” There was a glint in his cool blue eyes. “It’s one of my most irritating qualities.”
That surprised a laugh out of her. “I can see why. I’d say stubbornness is another. Marriage is binding, Major. We can’t just walk away if we find the result unsatisfying.”
“Actually, we can walk away. Not easily, but it’s possible.” Folding his arms, he leaned against the rough wall. “Scottish marriage law is different from English. Females can request a divorce on equal terms with men. If we marry there, you can divorce me for adultery or abandonment, or demand a legal separation for cruelty.”
She frowned. “It seems wrong to take marriage vows while keeping one foot outside the door.”
“Perhaps. Certainly it is a gamble. But marriage is an honorable estate.” His gaze was steady, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life running from Daventry and Crockett? You might succeed if you go to another country, but now that they know you’re alive, they might pursue you anywhere.
“If you marry me, you can return to the world you were raised in. I’m not wealthy, but I have a comfortable income and a small estate. As my wife, you could visit London and wear pretty gowns and be Lady Julia Raines again. Isn’t that worth a risk?”
To have her life back! The picture he painted was painfully tempting. “The risk is great, especially for you. I know you’re a powerful protector, Major, but we could both wind up dead.” She shivered. “I don’t want your death on my immortal soul.”
“As Daventry’s heir, I have a certain amount of influence with him. Though he doesn’t like me, he loves tradition and his earldom,” Randall said with dark humor. “If you are my wife and the only hope for an heir after me, that’s powerful protection.”
“Except I can’t give you an heir.” She couldn’t keep bitterness from her voice.
“He wouldn’t know that.” His mouth twisted wryly. “There would be ironic justice if the title goes extinct because of Branford’s brutality. But I am not proposing marriage simply to punish Daventry. I think we would both benefit if we wed.”
“You tempt me, Major,” she said softly. “But this discussion is so cold and rational. Should marriage be a cool calculation of protection and possibilities?”
Without moving a muscle, he changed. She could feel emotion radiating from him. “My feelings for you aren’t cold, Julia,” he said, his voice as soft as hers. “I’ve never met another woman I’ve wanted to marry. The prospect of choosing a ‘suitable’ bride sent me running to hide in Scotland. I came to Hartley in theory to consider Sarah Townsend, but in truth, because I wanted to see you. Your situation is more complicated than I realized. Yet the more I see of you, the more I want to be with you.”
Moved and unnerved, she asked, “When did you start to call me Julia?”
“Somewhere earlier in this conversation.” He folded himself down on the floor close enough to touch her, but not touching. “If you truly dislike me so much that you don’t want to live under the same roof…well, I must accept that. I won’t trouble you again. But if you think we might someday be more to each other…”
She saw vulnerability in his eyes. That was perhaps the greatest surprise of all. “I am not indifferent to you, Major,” she admitted. “You were right about the connection between us. I also feel it, and I know you much better than I did an hour ago.”
“An hour’s acquaintance is about right,” he said promptly. “More might increase your doubts.”
“Finding you have a sense of humor is a definite plus.” She gazed into the fire, amazed that she was actually considering marriage. And to Randall, of all men. “You say I must be willing to ‘try’ to make a true marriage. What do you mean by that?”
He set another piece of wood on the fire. “I think we should both commit a year to the attempt. I’m allowed to touch, while you have the absolute right to tell me to stop. Until…say, the next day?”
“That seems reasonable,” she said cautiously.
“I will be faithful to my vows as long as we both feel our marriage is real. If we separate—that’s a different matter. But I want very much to try, Julia.”
She turned and met his gaze. “It’s been so long since I’ve touched a man for any reason except patching up injuries,” she said uncertainly. “Your terms are generous, yet even so, I don’t know if I can meet them.”
“No?” Slowly, as if she was a skittish fo
al, he reached out and took her right hand in his. “Is this unbearable?”
She closed her eyes, shaken by his touch. A virile male who wanted to marry her was holding her hand. Deep-seated fears were triggered, yet the warmth and strength of his grip were comforting. Most disturbing of all was the undeniable attraction. She opened her eyes. “Disconcerting, but not unbearable.”
“And this?” He raised her hand and brushed the back with his lips.
She shivered as long-forgotten sensations jangled through her, as appealing as they were frightening. “Not…unbearable. Though the limit of what I can accept now.”
He gave a slow, deep smile. “Again I ask. Will you marry me, Lady Julia?”
Even with his promise to always respect her wishes, she would lose the walls of privacy that had protected her for years. She hated knowing that would happen.
But she would never get such an amazing, unexpected offer again. She believed Randall was being honest. Despite all the reasons any sane man would walk away, he wanted her enough to risk the likelihood that marriage might be a disastrous failure.
And…he intrigued her. Though he was an alarming man in many ways, she paradoxically felt safe with him. She was tired of living in fear. The prospect of running away to a new continent made her want to weep.
As a girl, she’d had a reckless streak. For too long, she’d suppressed that, but now she felt a mad desire to risk her future. If he was willing to dare marriage, she could do no less. But she had to know that she could escape if necessary. “I have a condition also. That you give me a signed, undated letter saying that you agree that the marriage has failed and that you also want a divorce.”
His brows drew together formidably. “I…see.”
She looked away. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to suggest that you’re untrustworthy.”
“But you don’t trust me,” he said wryly. “Very well, I shall give you such a letter before we head to the altar. Is that sufficient?”
Never Less Than a Lady Page 4