The Officer and the Proper Lady

by Louise Allen

  Julia dropped a respectful curtsey and her new mother in law burst into renewed tears.

  ‘Mama!’ Hal sounded shaken, but Julia realized she had expected nothing less than this rejection. Then Lady Narborough threw out her arms and gathered her into a rather damp embrace and she felt her own tears welling up with relief.

  ‘Oh my dear! Oh, how pretty you are and what a terrible time you must have had of it. But welcome to the family.’ She kissed Julia and thrust her towards Lord Narborough before seizing Hal’s hands. ‘At last, you wretched boy! And the poor child arriving unannounced into a houseful of strangers.

  ‘Now, come into the drawing room. Or should you go straight to bed? Julia, my dear. You must advise, what is to be done with him?’

  ‘I think Hal will tell us himself,’ Julia said, seeing her husband’s jaw beginning to tense. ‘But, for myself, I would be very glad of the opportunity to retire for a short while: we seem to have been travel ling for an age.’

  ‘But of course. Now let me see—Hal, you have your old room and Julia can have Marcus’s—we have re deco rated it as a guest room, not that you are a guest my dear, but it is right next to Hal with just a little sitting room between that used to be the school room but you can have it as a private parlour. Wellow, do take Mrs Carlow upstairs—oh, and a maid…’

  ‘My dear,’ Lord Narborough interjected, ‘You will make our new daughter dizzy. You go up, my dear, take Hal with you and we will see you later when you are rested and we are all a little calmer.’

  ‘I will show you.’ Lady Verity—the well-behaved sister, Julia remembered—stood beaming at them. Her golden hair resembled Hal’s, but her eyes were a distinctive hazel green. She linked arms with Julia and guided her towards the stairs. Julia cast a glance back over her shoulder at Hal, but he nodded for her to go, so she let herself be swept along.

  ‘We were so worried that Hal had been killed, or been horribly wounded, and it is hopeless trying to get any information at Horse Guards; they kept saying he was alive, but there were no letters. And here he is, perfectly all right and married!’

  ‘He was wounded badly,’ Julia interjected. ‘And he is a dreadful patient as you no doubt know, Lady Verity, so he does need to rest.’

  ‘You must call me Verity, we are sisters.’ She pushed open a door. ‘Here you are. Isn’t it nice? I chose the hangings. And that door there is the dressing room and that one is to the little parlour and then Hal’s room is the other side of that. And you have the garden side, not like Hal who has the street, so you will be very quiet.’

  ‘It is lovely.’ Julia looked round at a room into which all the bed chambers at Place de Leuvan would have easily fitted. There was no sign of Hal, he must have gone to his own room. She eyed the inter connecting door uneasily.

  ‘Is your maid coming later? Only you can borrow mine, her name’s Miriam. I used to share her with Honoria, but she’s married now and somewhere in America, would you believe?’ She smiled, and Julia thought how sweet and open she seemed. ‘It is so lovely to have a new sister.’

  It was all going much better than he had hoped. Marcus and Nell had come and had stayed for the evening, visibly moved by the news of his safe return and unexpected marriage. Hal looked round the drawing room after dinner at his mother, sister and sister in law, all three de lighted with Julia. She had relaxed, her nerves apparently subsiding in the face of the warm welcome, and his father and brother sat either side of him, watching the women.

  ‘A very prettily behaved young lady,’ Lord Narborough commented. For once, Hal decided, he had done something right as far as his father was concerned. ‘I cannot imagine how you prevailed upon her to marry you.’ Ah, there was the barb back again.

  ‘She saved my life,’ Hal said. ‘She found me after the battle and nursed me—in a squalid hovel, just yards from the battlefield—until I could be moved. If she had not, I would be dead.’

  ‘Then we are even more in her debt,’ Lord Narborough said. Hal half regretted his words, seeing how white his father had gone around the lips, but he wanted his family to know just what they owed their new daughter.

  ‘I think I’ll take a turn in the garden.’ He got to his feet with care. ‘I get stiff if I sit for too long. Coming?’ He raised an eyebrow at Marcus who needed no stronger hint.

  ‘How bad is it?’ his brother asked when they were clear of the half-open windows. ‘You’re doing a damn good job of pretending it doesn’t hurt, but you don’t fool me.’

  ‘Not good,’ Hal admitted. ‘A lot better than it was, and the healing is going well, thanks to Julia, but the cut in my thigh was damned deep and I keep losing strength in it, suddenly. And all the internal bruising is working its way out—slowly!’

  ‘Father’s relieved to see you—you do know that, don’t you?’ Hal shrugged. ‘He is proud of you, even if he doesn’t approve of you. Do you want to talk about how it happened?’ Marcus leaned against a statue of Diana.

  ‘We’d been sitting on our back sides most of the day—it was a charge through the French artillery right at the end. The thing is, it was a French shell that took me off the horse and knocked me about—but an English trooper tried to kill me first. He was responsible for all the wounds.’

  ‘What the hell?’ His brother stood up abruptly, sending the goddess rocking on her plinth.

  Hal explained. ‘…and I don’t think it was Stephen Hebden this time. Not when Harris de scribed someone who spoke like me, was older and who had cold eyes like death. But Harris had a silken rope. I’ve got it in my luggage. And Hebden was in Brussels: he bought jewellery from Julia. Snooping on me, I have no doubt.’

  ‘You know, that ties in with my gut feeling that there is someone else or chestrating these rumours about Father. They aren’t Hebden’s style. Nor is murder.’ Marcus began to pace up and down the flag stones. ‘You realize this is the very spot where the original murder took place? No wonder it preys on Father’s mind.

  ‘But we know, to some extent, why Hebden is persecuting us all: he blames the families for his father’s death. But why should anyone else? I can believe any of us individually might have made an enemy—but the Wardales, the Carlows and Imogen Hebden?’

  ‘If Wardale was innocent,’ Hal said slowly, ‘then the murderer and spy may still be alive, still be out there.’

  ‘In his last letter to his wife, Wardale denied it, said he suspected Father,’ Marcus pointed out. ‘But, if we start from the basic premise that he is innocent too—who does that leave?’

  ‘Perhaps you should tell all this to Stephen Hebden.’ Both men swung round to find Julia standing on the flags behind them. ‘I came to see if you wanted tea,’ she said, prosaically. ‘Then I over heard.’

  ‘You’d need a long spoon to sup with that devious devil,’ Marcus said harshly. ‘He almost caused my wife’s death.’

  ‘But not, I think, intention ally,’ Hal said, a wary eye on his brother. ‘And Hebden acts personally in his vengeance. The attack on me was planned, paid for and at one remove from the instigator.’

  ‘I’d like to see you being so tolerant if he kid napped Julia and threatened to ravish her. And don’t forget that he tried to ruin Honoria, almost wrecked Monty’s wedding. Do I need to go on?’

  ‘No. I’ll not take him into my confidence,’ Hal agreed.

  But despite his words, he was still brooding on the mystery as he sat in his room by the light of a single branch of candles, staring at his bare feet protruding from the hem of his silk robe and trying to work up enough energy to get into bed.

  There were sounds from the little parlour that used to be the school room he shared with Marcus. Julia, looking for a book, perhaps. He wondered how soon he could take things a little further without shocking her. Even thinking about it had his body tightening, his loins aching. She responded readily to his kisses now, although he often caught her staring at him, her cheeks pink with what had to be shyness. Patience had never been his strong suit, but he was certainly learn
ing it now.

  With a faint creak, the door opened. There, on the threshold, her hair loose and waving on her shoulders, stood Julia. In the flickering light he could see her toes, bare beneath the hem of her simple white night gown.

  Hal got to his feet, closing his mouth with a snap, thankful for the heavy folds of his dressing gown. He was naked beneath the robe and, suddenly, so aroused it hurt. ‘Julia? Did you want something?’

  Her face was flushed, and she seemed to be holding onto the door handle for support. ‘I want to know if you are ever going to come to my room.’

  ‘What? Why?’ This was his shy, innocent bride who had fled when he had asked her to kiss him.

  ‘Because we are married and I do not feel very married!’ He took a step towards her. The pink in her cheeks, he realized incredulously, was partly indignation. ‘I know I will not be very good at first, but you can teach me, can’t you?’

  ‘Julia, I told you. I am not used to virgins, I do not want to shock you. I thought, perhaps, if you got used to me and realized I am trying to reform my ways, you would come to trust me and it would be easier.’

  ‘For whom?’ she enquired tartly. Hal found his lips were twitching, despite a feeling of near panic. How could he face the French army feeling nothing but excited anticipation and yet Julia reduced him to this state of nerves?

  ‘For both of us?’ he suggested. She glared at him, and perversely he felt his spirits lifting. ‘If you are sure?’ He reached out a hand to his bed and tossed back the covers. For a moment, he thought she would turn and run, then she came in, closed the door behind her and walked steadily to stand in front of him.

  ‘If it would not hurt you?’ she asked. ‘I wasn’t sure. If it would, then it would nice just to be held, I think.’

  ‘That might be rather more painful,’ Hal muttered, earning a puzzled look. Lord, she was so innocent. A least she had seen him naked, that was one less shock, he supposed. Although what she would make of the changes that happened to an aroused man…

  He blew out the candles, then moved in, finding her easily despite the darkness. He took her in his arms and kissed her, sinking immediately into the now-familiar sweetness of her response, the scent of lilac soap, the softness of her body as he held her.

  Now, without corsets and layers of clothing, he could feel the yielding curves, the lovely line of waist and hip. He let one hand stray to cup her buttock and she gave a little gasp against his mouth, then pressed closer.

  Emboldened, he let his fingers investigate the bows at the shoulders of the night gown until, working blind, he freed them so that when he took his hands away and stepped back, the garment tumbled to the floor around her feet.

  ‘Oh!’

  Hal touched her, feeling with delight Julia’s blushes warming her breast with imagined rose-pink. Under his palms her figure was every bit as enchanting as he had fantasised. She was small-breasted, slim-hipped, yet so sweetly curved.

  Speed, that was the thing, he decided, however much he wanted to linger. Hal shed his dressing gown, scooped her up and laid her on the bed, coming to lie on his left side beside her.

  ‘You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.’

  ‘Liar,’ she mumbled. ‘You cannot see me.’

  ‘I have hands.’ He began to stroke, gentling his hand along hip and waist, feeling her belly tighten as he trailed his fingers across it, then up to cup her breast. She moaned, while he caressed her until her head began to move, restless, on the pillow. His right arm ached, but he hardly felt the pain, listening to her, judging the moment to part the moist folds, slip one finger into the tender heat.

  Julia gasped, tried to move away, but he persisted until she was lifting herself against his hand again and again and he could part her thighs, move over her. Hal positioned himself care fully, trying to take as much weight as he could on his uninjured left leg, nudging gently.

  Yes, she was his; he could enter, so slowly, so care fully she would hardly be aware. The thought of frightening her, hurting her, made him tense. He wished he could watch her face, but she would feel safer in the dark.

  And then the pain ripped through his right thigh, cramping the muscles, making him jerk involuntarily, and beneath him Julia gave a little scream, arching up, rigid beneath him. He was deep within her, her involuntary movements sending waves of sensation crashing through him, beyond his control, beyond stopping. Hal felt the orgasm take him and knew, with the last rags of his control, that he could not keep his weight from bearing down on her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Julia blinked away the tears that filled her eyes. The pain had been every bit as bad as she had feared, and so sudden, but it was gone now and Hal was part of her, filling her. Although she could hardly breathe and she sensed, rather than felt, a deep soreness, that did not matter: the intimacy of their joining was breathtaking, overwhelming.

  Was this what would have happened in the glade if Hal had not stopped so abruptly? Was the fear of hurting her what had been keeping him from her all along?

  She was not quite sure what was happening now, or what to expect next, so she just enjoyed holding on to Hal, feeling the breadth of his shoulders under her palms, the heat of his skin, the movement of muscles, and trying to get used to the sensation of him within her. His face was buried in her shoulder, his heart was pounding and he seemed to have gone limp in every muscle, so she concentrated on lying still, her cheek pressed against his hair.

  Then Hal moved with an ungainly jerk for someone who was usually so con trolled, and he rolled off her body, leaving her feeling bereft. He was lighting the candle, she realized. When he lay back on the pillows beside her and she saw his face, it was worse. Whatever had just happened, it had not made him happy.

  ‘Hell,’ Hal said bleakly, staring at the ceiling. ‘Hell, I am so sorry.’

  ‘I do not under stand,’ she faltered, wondering if it was her fault.

  ‘I intended to go slowly, gently, and this bloody leg gave way and I lost control.’ He turned his head to look at her. ‘I hurt you, didn’t I?’

  ‘A bit,’ she admitted. ‘But it always does, doesn’t it? The first time.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be too bad unless a blundering cripple with no self-control makes a mess of it.’

  ‘Oh, your leg!’ She flinched at his description of himself, but there was no point in arguing about that now. ‘Have you opened up the wound?’ Heedless of her nakedness, Julia sat up and reached for the sheet that was tangled about his waist, trying to look at his bandaged thigh.

  ‘Leave it!’ She jerked back, wincing at his tone. ‘I’m sorry. It is fine,’ he said more gently, sitting up. ‘You’ll want to go back to your own bed.’

  Julia opened her mouth to deny it, tell him she wanted to stay, to be held in his arms, but Hal reached for his robe, shrugged it on and then slid out of the bed to limp over to the wash stand. He obviously did not want her to remain, so perhaps that was not something a wife should do. Or perhaps he did not want her to cling or to show affection. She was about to get up when he came back with a towel and a cloth.

  ‘Here.’ He was pale around the lips and eyes. ‘There’s blood.’ He turned his back while she dabbed and winced.

  ‘The sheet—’ The servants would see, would know.

  ‘They will think it is mine,’ Hal said. ‘I will ring for Langham, have him redress my leg. The wound has opened a little. There is no need for embarrassment.’

  ‘No, of course not.’ Julia slid the night gown over her head and went to the door. ‘Good night, Hal.’

  Julia sat up in bed, fingers curled around the luxury of a cup of hot chocolate, and thought about the previous night. She was no longer a virgin, but that was about the only positive thing, that and those few moments where she had held Hal in her arms and felt the tenderness welling through her.

  Instead of a husband who had not wanted to make love to her, she now had one who was blaming himself for hurting her. He had most certainly not
been filled with the desire to cradle her in his arms afterwards, as she had hoped he would, but perhaps men did not like to do that. Her body and her heart ached for that comfort. This was not the marriage she had hoped for, one of sharing and confidences.

  She needed advice. The image of Nell Carlow appeared, with the memory of her warm voice and the friendly smile in her hazel eyes. She was so very obviously happy with her husband, and that happiness seemed to overflow into a need for both of them to touch all the time, however fleetingly. Nell, she was sure, would talk to her.

  To her relief, the break fast room held only Verity and Lady Narborough. ‘Lady Stanegate mentioned a dress maker and some milliners last night,’ Julia remarked when she was seated in front of the poached egg and toast that were all she thought she had appetite for. ‘Would she mind if I called to ask her more about them, do you think?’

  ‘She would be de lighted,’ Lady Narborough assured her. ‘She stays at home during the mornings at the moment, which stops Stanegate fussing, but she will appreciate a visitor. It is just around the corner if you want to walk. Ask Wellow to send one of the footmen with you when you are ready to go.’

  ‘I’ll come too,’ Verity said.

  ‘No, dear.’ Lady Narborough sent Julia a look that seemed to say she under stood the need for one newly married young lady to talk to another. ‘I want you with me this morning.’

  Wondering just what Hal’s mother thought she needed to talk about, if it was not hats, Julia set out with Richards the footman in attendance. It was not until she found herself seated in Nell’s boudoir that it occurred to her that she had not planned quite how to phrase her questions.

  ‘Hal must be a challenge as a husband,’ Nell remarked while she was still composing herself. ‘I love him dearly as a brother, but my goodness, the man is wild.’