The pounding of her heart went silent as the world around Julia stood still. Lord Bellamy’s lips were touching her hand. Well, her glove, but it was close enough. No simple accessory would ruin this moment for her. A handsome lord was kissing her hand and telling her it was a pleasure to meet her. Julia smiled at him. It was a struggle to keep it from turning into a girlish giggle, but she managed.
“Let’s get you stood up, shall we?”
Before she could protest, he lifted her to her feet. Any moment she would have to move and then he would know, but standing in the circle of his arms with his fingers shadowing her rib cage, it was difficult to remember that. The smoky scent of him with a hint of something fresh and possibly floral intoxicated her. She leaned in to the solid warmth of his chest.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Just a little off balance,” she lied. She just needed a few moments of delicious closeness to etch into her mind for later, when she could unpack this experience and embellish it to her heart’s content.
She took a depth breath. It was jasmine. The teasing floral smell was jasmine.
His arms tightened around her, pressing their bodies close. Lord Bellamy looked down at her. “As I said, I am at your disposal. Use me however you require.”
Good heavens. No man should have such a sultry growl in his arsenal. She’d save that memory for later as well. In the meantime, Julia could think of several ways to use him. Her eyes focused on his lips. The lower lip had a slight pout—the product of just a little too much fullness—that begged her to taste it. She bit her own lip. If he would only lean down just a little…
“Help! Someone help me!” Nora’s yell broke through the moment.
Lord Bellamy’s arms loosened around Julia, and he stepped away. Damn it all to hell.
Maid and mount clomped over the hill and into view at a moderate walk. “The beast’s gone rogue. Get me off this monster!”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Nora.” The moment was lost, and it was time to return to the real world. Julia intercepted the not-even-remotely runaway horse and took the reins.
“You’re limping,” Lord Bellamy exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say you’d been hurt in the fall?”
Suddenly, it wasn’t over at all. Julia must be precisely the devil everyone said she was, because she felt zero compulsion to come clean and explain the truth. Julia looked down at her skirts, doing her best impression of a mewling miss. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”
“Don’t take another step—you could injure yourself further. Is it your foot or your ankle?”
“My ankle, I think.” She widened her eyes with extra innocence.
Up in the saddle, Nora suppressed a choked sound of surprise.
“Perhaps I should have a look, if it’s very bad—”
“No!” Julia shouted.
Lord Bellamy took a half step back.
Damn. She hadn’t meant to be quite so forceful. “I just…it wouldn’t be proper, don’t you think?”
As if she cared a fig about propriety. Julia would be more than happy to let him inspect her body in detail, just not her ankle. Above her, Nora coughed excessively.
Lord Bellamy looked between them with squinted eyes before shaking his head. “Well then, you still must get off it at once. Let’s get you home. Where are you staying, Miss Fairchild?”
Pure panic sent tingling numbness down to the tips of Julia’s fingers. It was too late to claim a blow to the head and pretend she didn’t know. “I’m staying with my cousins, Lord Nicholas Wakefield and his wife, Lady Amelia. It’s not far.”
Lord Bellamy burst into a beaming smile. “What luck! I was headed there myself. I wasn’t aware Nick had such a beautiful cousin. I would have insisted he introduce us at once.”
Jasper DeVere thought she was beautiful. It was too wonderful to resist. All common sense floated away on the wind. “I’m Amelia’s cousin, actually. From Kent.”
“That makes a great deal more sense. Any cousin of Amelia’s is bound to be lovely, though I doubt even my imaginings could have concocted someone as delightful as you.”
A flush spread across Julia’s cheeks, and she had to stare at her skirts to keep from bursting into a ridiculous grin. “Shall we—”
“Oh, yes. Let’s get you home.”
Julia allowed him to help her back onto her horse. Suddenly, she was extremely grateful Amelia and Nicholas hadn’t returned yet. They were constantly trying to put a damper on her adventures, and this one was shaping up to be the most diverting of all. She’d tell him eventually, but for now—she was finally getting a taste of the romance she’d always wanted.
Chapter Two
Perhaps Nick and Amelia would understand. It wasn’t as if he’d set out to encounter their cousin, or to flirt with her. It was one more instance of serendipity. Practically fated. They were his truest friends—actual friends, not just a society acquaintanceship—and his intentions weren’t necessarily dishonorable. He could flirt with a woman without taking her to bed. It didn’t happen often, but he was almost certain he was capable of it. He harmlessly flirted with Amelia all the time. That was at least one account in his favor, and in the same family no less.
Not that his responses to Miss Fairchild were entirely harmless. The line of her neck as they rode back to the house was regal perfection, but then an innocent pink flush dusted her cheeks when she caught him admiring her. When she cast her eyes aside in modesty, there was a mischievous twinkle to them and an impish tilt to the corner of her mouth. The complexity of her taunted him. He wanted to know what she was thinking.
He also wanted to know if she blushed pink all over.
Their little party had started down a long gravel driveway, so it was probably prudent for Jasper to stop staring at Miss Fairchild like a randy youth. “I must confess, I had planned on borrowing Nicholas’s empty house. I didn’t realize he and Amelia were back already.”
“They’re not. I meant to surprise them by being here when they return.” Her cheeks went delightfully pink again. “We’re alone for the time being.”
He spent a moment with the imaginings that brought to life before reason broke through. “I shouldn’t stay, then. I’ll just wait until the doctor confirms you’re in good health, and then find somewhere else. Without a chaperone, it would be quite the scandal.”
She looked up from under thick lashes, managing to appear innocent and suggestive at the same time. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
A fortnight. It would take a fortnight to do everything that look brought to Jasper’s mind, and another to start all over and do it again. “I adore secrets.”
“I’ll go see about sending for a doctor.” Miss Fairchild’s maid launched herself from her horse in a flurry of skirts and hurried inside, grumbling about wickedness and ruin as she went.
“Don’t mind Nora,” Miss Fairchild said quickly. “She’s just a bit protective.”
“As she should be. She has someone very precious in her charge.” Jasper waved off the groom that stepped out to help Miss Fairchild down. When she put her hands on his shoulders, he lowered her slowly down each inch of his body. It was devilishly forward, and she ought to have slapped him, but she seemed perfectly willing to wander this path to ruin he was leading them down. If she was amenable to an entertaining diversion, Jasper was game. That was why he’d come, after all—to escape his present.
He kept his arm around her waist when her feet finally touched the ground and ran his gloved thumb along the line of her lower lip. Her mouth opened, just the slightest of parts, and he repeated the gesture. “What shall we do to occupy ourselves while we’re all alone?”
“What can’t we do?” No guile. No pretense of affront. She wanted him.
Jasper lowered his mouth, slowly closing the distance between them, drawn in by her challenge.
“A doctor has been—” The formal tones of a decidedly butler-ly figure intruded. He cleared his throat.
Miss Fairchild stif
fened and the moment was lost. She leaned away from Jasper.
“As I was saying; a groom is getting the doctor, my lady.”
So, there were a few limitations to their game. Not to worry. Jasper relished a challenge. “Let’s get you settled inside.”
He scooped her up, feeling a profound sense of satisfaction when her arms wrapped around his neck. The curves of her pressed against his chest and arm. Her face might be angelic, but beneath all the layers her form was sinful. As they crossed the threshold into the foyer, he murmured against her ear. “You are delightfully luscious, Miss Fairchild.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Is that your way of warning me I am about to be dropped?”
“Dropped?” Jasper met her eyes. “I may never put you down.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to, because I need a moment to tidy myself before the doctor arrives.”
“You look ravishing.” Even the smear of mud across the bridge of her nose and cheek was tantalizing.
“You’re a shameless flatterer, Lord Bellamy.”
“That doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” There was that mischievous twinkle again. They reached the foyer, and she gestured for him to put her down. “Winslow, will you show Lord Bellamy to a room? I’m certain he’d enjoy a bath.”
Right. He no doubt smelled like he’d been doing hard labor. His formal clothing hadn’t held up very well on the long ride, either. “I haven’t any luggage. Do you think Nick would mind if I helped myself to some of his clothes?”
She raised an eyebrow at his lack of luggage, but thankfully didn’t ask about it. “I think he’d have to be here to mind, and he’s not.”
He most certainly was not. Jasper would have to be very careful not to revert to less respectable pursuits. It was one thing to push the boundaries of convention and flirt with a beautiful woman. It was quite another to leap straight over them and ravish a close friend’s cousin. “Then I shall see you for drinks before dinner. I promise to be much better presented.”
She nodded, and he left her—all the while extremely aware that she was watching him walk every step of the staircase. They would have to be very careful, indeed.
Jasper raided Nicholas’s wardrobe while he waited for the bath. If there were any interesting pieces to be had, Nick had taken them with him on his trip. None of the intricate patterns or flashing jewel tones Jasper preferred—just the run-of-the-mill black, brown, and navy of every country lord in Britain. When Nicholas did return, they would have to have a talk. Just because Nick had devoted himself to the respectable pursuit of the law didn’t mean he had to look as boring as his profession.
At least they were of a similar size. Jasper might not cut his usual dashing figure, but the sleeves would fall where they ought to and his shoulders wouldn’t be impossibly cramped in ill-fitting tailoring. It was the best one could hope for when one fled the city without any belongings.
The melancholy returned while he bathed. Without Miss Fairchild’s alluring presence, the reality of what he’d done set in. He’d left the queen and every other powerful lord of the nation twiddling their thumbs, waiting for a ceremony that couldn’t happen without him. It would have been a legendary scandal to be proud of—if he’d planned it. If he’d done it for any reason other than his inability to accept a world without his grandfather in it.
There was no undoing it. The best thing would be to put it from his mind for as long as he could. With deep concentration, Jasper tied his cravat into the deceptively simple arrangement he favored. It took a great deal of effort to make it look so easily done, but it was worth it for the effect. The reflection in the mirror nodded back at him with approval; it was the perfect arrangement for an evening of flirtation.
And there would be flirting. Jasper would inundate Miss Fairchild with a profusion of subtle seductions. It was Jasper’s duty, and his pleasure, to entertain his hostess. It added a sense of purpose to his escape that sent a thrill racing beneath his skin. He finished himself off with a dash of Nicholas’s cologne—and was immediately paralyzed with memory. It had never registered before that his grandfather and Nicholas wore similar scents, but it registered now as the smell of bergamot transported Jasper back to their last day together.
Laughter shook his grandfather, until it became a hacking cough that shook the bed. The duke gestured and Jasper rushed to pour a glass of water. When he’d calmed from the fit, the duke said, “Don’t make me laugh. I’m not quite ready to die yet.”
“I would appreciate it if you’d wait another few years.” They’d be lucky to get another few days. “Thirty or so ought to do it.”
“Enough of that. It’s time, and you know it. Now pay attention, because I’ve got things to say.”
Jasper leaned in, clasping the weathered hands that weakened under the ravaging sickness. Hands that had held the world together.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get more time. The responsibility of the dukedom isn’t meant for the young. You would have had your thirty years, if your father had—” His grandfather broke into another fit of coughing, but it subsided quickly. “He should have had it before you.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“Not yours, either, but that’s the way it is. Still, I’m glad you’ve lived the way you have. You’ve had adventures enough for twenty men. You’re younger than you ought to be, but you won’t have nearly as many regrets as you would have. You’ve lived.”
In the mirror, Jasper’s face hid the truth of the life he’d led. There were no lines to show for the days on end of debauchery, uninterrupted by sleep or any hint of wholesomeness. Not even lines of grief could find purchase. Even his skin rejected the truth, who he was supposed to be now.
“Are you still glad, grandfather?” Jasper had never learned to be the sort of man who could live up to his grandfather’s legacy. The sort of man who did the right thing, instead of the interesting thing.
Julia was not familiar with this doctor. Fortunately, it would be unseemly for Lord Bellamy to be present while she was examined, so there was no need to maintain the farce of the twisted ankle. She could put an end to this visit without ever having to leave her chair by the fire.
The door swung inward and the doctor crossed the plush carpet of her bedroom, hand outstretched. “Miss Fairchild, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I hear you’ve had an eventful—”
“Thank you for your concern, but I will not be allowing an examination.” There was nothing wrong with her that he could fix. As an afterthought, she smiled to soften her tone.
“Falling from a horse can cause all manner of complications. You may not feel them at first. You could have a broken bone or strained ligament, not to mention a possible concussion to your brain.”
“I am aware of the risks, and my brain is fine. My lady’s maid is extremely well-versed in the signs of concussion, fever, and internal difficulties. If anything should arise, she is more than capable of seeing to it.”
“My lady, while I am sure your lady’s maid is a fine companion—”
Julia let out a deep breath. She may very well have suffered some sort of damage to think she could get away with this kind of deception. “I was born with an exposed spine condition, sir. Unless that is your area of expertise, your services will not be helpful.”
The doctor’s eyes widened. “But you’re an adult.”
“So I am. It’s a miracle.” There was no correlating enthusiasm in her voice. The miracle had involved endless procedures throughout Julia’s life, not to mention regular invasions of her privacy and patience.
“How was it managed? Did you have a surgeon or—”
“Thank you very much for your time.” She stood and ushered him toward the door. His attention was riveted to her limping steps. Julia had endured the fascination of the doctors that her parents hired for her, but she didn’t owe this man anything. “I appreciate your concern, but your services are not needed.”
; “I really should examine you, just in case.”
“That won’t be necessary.” He wanted to see the scar—they always did. One would think the rough patch of skin on her lower back was the bloody Sistine Chapel, rather than the result of painful and repeated injections. Julia didn’t allow anyone to see it anymore, not even Nora. She was not some exhibit to be gawked at. “Leave your bill with the butler on your way out.”
The door closed behind him, and Julia sat back down to wait. The fire on the hearth reflected in the lacquered surfaces of the desk and armoire. They might as well be the fires of damnation. Any moment Lord Bellamy would burst in, full of affront, demanding to know if what the doctor told him was true. Or perhaps he’d be so offended by the lie that he would just leave without saying anything at all.
The pop of the door latch sounded. Julia squared her shoulders and took a deep breath as the handle turned and the door opened.
“My lady.” Nora’s skirts brushed against the frame as she stepped in and closed the door behind her. “The doctor is gone.”
“And Lord Bellamy?” She held her breath while she waited for the answer.
“Begging your pardon, Lady Julia, but have you completely lost your mind? Juniper Fairchild? Where on earth…” Nora’s complaints died off when confronted with Julia’s raised eyebrows. “Lord Bellamy is still cleaning up from his ride. They did not speak before the doctor left.”
So the game was still afoot. The dread fell away, leaving Julia with a rapid heartbeat and an overwhelming sense of daring. She could give whatever medical explanation she liked. For the foreseeable future—at least until Nicholas and Amelia returned—she could be Miss Juniper Fairchild and flirt with the outrageous Viscount Bellamy to her heart’s content.
“Tell Winthrop that the staff is to call me Miss Fairchild or Lady Juniper from now on. If that is too taxing, they may restrict themselves to ‘my lady.’”
“May I ask how long you think you’ll be able to keep this up?”
“You may not.” Julia’s chin lifted with authority. So what if she was operating without a plan? Sometimes a proper adventure had to be improvised. “After you help me decide between the rose silk or the crimson, tell Winthrop what I said.”
A Scandal by Any Other Name Page 2