by Joanna Shupe
He smirked and opened his mouth, so she held up a hand. “Do not say it. I was a virgin that first night with you. I have been with no one else. If you choose not to believe me, then there is nothing more to say.”
“A virgin does not ride her husband in a chair.” He prowled closer, his voice low and menacing. “A virgin does not suck her husband’s cock. A virgin does not strip off her clothes, stroke herself, or beg me to lick her.”
Julia felt the heat on her face, unsure whether it was from embarrassment or the rush of desire at his coarse words. She remembered those seven nights so clearly, had relived them in her mind many times. Perhaps proper ladies did not act in such a fashion, but the Duchess of Colton had—and enjoyed it.
“I knew your reputation. You would’ve run screaming if you suspected I was a virgin—let alone your wife!—so I paid Pearl Kelly to teach me the ways of a courtesan. I am sorry for duping you, Colton, but I truly believed there was no choice.”
Nick towered over her, over six feet of outraged man. Only, she refused to back down, her heart beating wildly as she boldly stared at him.
“Yes, you certainly gave me no choice in the matter,” he growled.
She wanted to laugh. His insistence on always being the injured party, making her out to be some kind of monster, was too much. “You pursued me. You seduced me every bit as much as I seduced you. And God knew you were not concerned about conception when we were together. You made no effort whatsoever to prevent a child from our union. Tell me, how many bastards have you sired over the years?”
His nostrils flared, and he stepped back. “You told me you couldn’t have children and I believed you. I thought you were trustworthy. You were with one of my closest friends, for God’s sake! How was I to know what you truly were?”
“And what was I, Colton? Besides a wife driven to desperation because her husband had ignored her for eight years?”
He gave her a patronizing, self-righteous smile. “You don’t truly want me to say it, do you?”
She gasped, heat suffusing her entire body. Blood rushed through her veins, a steady hum of outrage in her ears. At that moment, she hated him with a vehemence she hadn’t thought herself capable of before now. Julia wanted to hit him, insult him—anything to make him hurt as much as she did.
“You are a coward and a hypocrite,” she said. “I wish I’d never gone to Venice.”
“That makes two of us.”
They faced each other, barely an arm’s length between their bodies, for a long moment. His breathing rasped every bit as fast as hers as they stared at each other. The air in the room was thick with tension and emotion, like a long-overdue thunderstorm.
Then the atmosphere shifted, became intimate, as the familiar current jumped between them. Nick’s gaze grew hooded, filled with a blatant carnality that never failed to turn her knees to jelly. He focused intently on her, as if he wanted to eat her alive. She fully expected him to surge forward and kiss her once more.
A tingling awareness spread over her body, and her lips parted in anticipation.
Nick glanced at her mouth, where the tip of her tongue slid out to moisten her dry lips. He blinked then straightened. “I leave at first light.” Spinning, he strode to the door.
“Why? Why are you so determined to ignore me?” She hadn’t meant to say anything but couldn’t prevent the words from tumbling out.
Hand poised on the latch, Nick dropped his forehead to the door. “Because it’s killing me to stay away from you. And if I let myself have you, I’ll hate us both when it’s over.” He opened the partition and disappeared.
Colton departed in the morning before the rest of the household awoke. Julia heard him leave but did not get out of bed. Her emotions were conflicted, and she didn’t know whether she wanted to strangle him or strip him down the next time she saw him.
Probably best not to find out, she reasoned.
So she determinedly put her husband out of her mind. She had her health and her baby to focus on.
True to his word, Colton instructed Fitz to follow her everywhere. The large man even joined the group each night for dinner, which had Angela and Theo in quite a dither at first. Julia could understand since Fitz did pose a rather stark and forbidding presence about the house. But as she got to know him, she found him funny and sweet. It was clear he would do anything for Colton, and Julia wondered not for the first time what had transpired between the two men to inspire such loyalty.
A week after Colton left, Simon arrived.
They were in the middle of dinner when Lord Winchester’s tall, rangy frame strode into the dining room. “Simon!” Julia sprung up from her chair.
He enveloped her in a hug. “Evening, Jules.” Stepping back, he held her at arm’s length. “You look radiant. Truly.” He turned to the other women and Fitz, greeting them as well.
Theo signaled for another place setting and two footmen rushed forward with the necessary items, placing Simon on Julia’s right. When they were all seated, Julia asked, “Is Parliament still in session, or have you finished?”
Simon selected some roast mutton from the platter closest to him. “Still going on, I’m afraid, which means I cannot stay long. However, I heard from Quint, who heard from Colton, that you’d been injured. Wanted to come see for myself.”
“And why would the duke not tell you himself?” Theo asked, scooping more French beans onto her plate.
When he didn’t answer, Julia blurted, “He’s still not speaking to you?”
Simon said nothing, merely attacked his dinner, which gave Julia the answer she needed. “If Colton were here I’d box his ears,” she swore.
“I would love to see that,” Simon said with all seriousness.
“As would I,” Fitz put in from down the table.
Everyone chuckled and Simon continued. “Yes, Colton is still angry with me. But I anticipate an apology coming soon. Oh”—He looked down at Julia’s stomach—“about September.”
“I must have missed something,” Angela commented. “Why September?”
“You haven’t told her?” Simon asked Julia, who just shook her head. “Because that is when Julia’s baby is due.”
“And once Colton sees his child,” Theo said in a rush, “all will be forgiven. Now, tell us what news you have of Town, Lord Winchester.”
Julia noticed how smoothly her aunt answered Angela’s question. While she liked Angela, Julia was not comfortable with having the entire story spread far and wide. The fewer people who knew what she’d done in Venice, the better.
Simon proceeded to regale them with stories from the various balls, parties, and events he’d attended over the last month. Theo, who missed Town life more than she let on, hung on Simon’s every word. Julia felt a pang of guilt but wasn’t about to let her aunt leave now. Not until the baby arrived.
After dinner, Simon turned to Julia. “Walk with me?”
She nodded. “Fitz, Lord Winchester and I are going for a walk. I am quite confident he can safely guard my person during that time. Feel free to retire.”
Fitz frowned, the scar on his face turning white. “The duke wouldn’t—”
“The duke is not here,” she snapped, and then sighed. “I apologize, Fitz. I do not mean to be cross with you, since none of this is your fault. Simon, can you ensure my safety for the next hour?”
Simon grinned, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. “I shall protect thee, fair maiden.”
Fitz didn’t appear to like it, but he agreed. Simon helped Julia out of her chair and they set off for the lawn to the west side of the house.
It was unusually warm for an early May evening. The lilac bushes were just beginning to show promises of blossoms, as were the lily of the valley plants. Everything was green and hearty, a new beginning after the cold, wet winter. She sat down on a nearby stone bench.
“Are you well? Truly? When I heard you fell, I swear I lost a year off my life.” The soft glow of the lights from the house illuminated his co
ncerned face.
Julia smiled up at her friend. “A sprained ankle and a headache. Nothing more. I was quite fortunate.”
“Thank heavens. I hear Colton couldn’t find evidence of a cause.”
“That is true, though I’m not sure why he suspected something to be amiss in the first place. Regardless, he left Fitz behind to serve as bodyguard.”
“Why the hell didn’t Colton stay, if he was so worried?”
Julia shrugged. “He said it was best if he went back to London. I do not think he’s planning to return.”
“He’ll come around, Jules. Give him time.”
“How much time, Simon?” She stood and moved away stiffly to stare out into the darkness surrounding the hall. “I’ve waited eight years for him. And you should hear the hateful things he says to me when we’re together.” A tear slipped from her eye and she swatted it off her cheek. Lord, she was tired of crying over that man. “Why does Colton deserve any more time?”
Because you love him, a voice inside her whispered.
Simon came forward to squeeze her hand. “Because he’s stubborn and cynical and anyone he’s ever loved has turned their backs on him. He deserves to have one or two of us hang about. He will come around, I promise.”
She leaned her head against his arm. “And if he doesn’t?”
“He will. I know him almost as well as I know myself. And if I were in his shoes, I’d be scared to death.”
“Scared? Colton isn’t scared.”
Simon laughed. “Surely, you jest. Colton is downright terrified.”
“Of what?”
“Of you, silly.”
Simon entertained the household over the next few days. He played cards—usually piquet or speculation—in the afternoons with Julia, went riding with Angela and Fitz every morning, and drank spirits with Theo in the evenings.
Julia felt invigorated. Her body grew a little more each day and she had a great amount of energy. Theo suggested a transformation of the nursery might be in order, so one morning Julia and the housekeeper, Mrs. Gibbons, went to the third floor to assess it.
The room was dusty and in disrepair, which was hardly a surprise since it hadn’t seen the light of day in thirty years. The large windows were covered in grime, casting a grayish pallor to the dirty walls.
“The dowager duchess said not to bother with this room,” Mrs. Gibbons said defensively at Julia’s side. With her gray hair pulled back into a serviceable bun, Mrs. Gibbons was not a woman used to frills. As Theo said, this housekeeper was more of the no-nonsense variety. Julia could only imagine how terrified the maids would be of making a mistake under Mrs. Gibbons’s watchful eye.
“Of course,” Julia reassured her. “I would not blame you or your staff for the neglect in here, Mrs. Gibbons. But I should like to see it cleaned now.”
“And what shall we do with the furniture and the toys, Your Grace?” She gestured to the two small beds at one end of the room.
Julia smiled and imagined Nick snuggling in his bed. Growing closer, she noticed writing of some kind on one of the headboards. Taking her hand, she smoothed away the dust and saw the initials N.S. carved into the wood. Something rolled over in her chest as she traced the letters with a fingertip. “Can we clean and store them? We might use them someday.”
Mrs. Gibbons’s eyes twinkled. “A rapscallion, that one.” She motioned to the bed where Nick had carved his initials. “Cutest little boy you’d like to see, your husband, but a devil all the same.”
None of which had changed now that he was a grown man, Julia thought.
“What was his brother like? Harry?”
“Proper. Full of responsibility. The opposite of your husband in every way.” Mrs. Gibbons shook her head. “It was a shame what happened.”
“Indeed,” Julia muttered, although she had no idea what exactly had happened. She made a mental note to ask Simon this afternoon. “Let’s get the place cleared out, Mrs. Gibbons. Donate the toys to the children in the village and get the beds stored away. The mattresses should be burned. When it’s clean, we’ll talk about paint colors and curtains.”
“Very good, Your Grace.”
That afternoon, she and Simon sat down for a game of piquet.
“Are you ready for a trouncing today, Duchess?” Simon grinned and deftly shuffled the deck.
“Considering the outcome of our game yesterday, sir, I should be asking you that question.”
“Perhaps we should up the ante?”
She shrugged. “If you are ready to part with more than the two pounds I won off you yesterday.”
Simon laughed and shook his head. “Your arrogance matches your husband’s.” He handed her the deck and sat back. “I’ll even let you deal first.”
Julia rubbed her hands together. “You may well regret that.” Soon they each had twelve cards. Silence descended as they studied their hands.
“Simon, what happened with Colton’s brother? The scandal, I mean.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What has Colton told you?”
“Not a word. He wouldn’t answer when I questioned him about it.”
“Well, no one knows what exactly happened because Colton has never said. I’ve hinted at a few things and he hasn’t corrected me, so I can only assume I am correct. But you should really hear it from him.”
“Were he and Angela . . . ?”
“Lovers?” Simon finished. “No. I know the rumors but Colton never would have done such a thing to Harry. He loved Harry. Nearly destroyed him when his brother died.” He put three cards down on the table and selected the same number from the talon.
“How so?” She discarded two cards and then picked up two more.
“Colton was drunk and angry. I sensed he and his brother had some sort of falling-out, with Harry siding against Colton, right before Harry died. And his parents blamed Colton for Harry’s death.” Simon made his declaration, the best possible combination in his hand.
Julia responded, acknowledging his hand could be scored. “That must have been terrible for him.”
“I think the falling-out with Harry hurt Colton far worse than with his parents. He’d given up on winning their approval years ago.”
“How did his father ever get him to agree to the marriage?”
Simon led a card, a jack of hearts. “I think I know, but I cannot tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Won’t, then. Colton is already angry with me for meddling. I’m sorry but I really cannot say anything more. And stop trying to distract me.”
The door opened and Angela appeared. Simon stood up to greet her, and Julia noticed he was reserved, not his natural flirtatious self.
“This just arrived for you.” She handed Julia a note. “I told Thorton I’d bring it in.”
Julia ripped open the seal and read the letter. The contents had her grinning. “Oh! It’s from Sophie. She’s coming to visit.”
“Sophie?” Angela asked.
“Lady Sophia Barnes,” Simon answered, his eyes on his cards. “Otherwise known as the Marquess of Ardington’s daughter and Julia’s partner in hell-raising.”
“Oh, how fun!” Angela returned. “The house is positively brimming in jocularity. The more, the merrier I always say. When is she to arrive?”
“Tomorrow,” Julia said. “She and her stepmother are to stay for three weeks.”
Simon grunted and Julia looked at him sharply. “What?”
“An unmarried maiden and her mama. Lord help me.”
Julia and Angela laughed. “Sophie has sworn never to marry, Simon. So you’re safe.”
“So I’ve heard but I still cannot see how she plans to avoid it.”
“She’s the only daughter and the marquess dotes on her every whim. He’s richer than Croesus and has promised to let Sophie find her own husband. I’m quite jealous of her, actually.”
Simon gave her a gaze full of pity, and she held up a hand. “Do not say it.”
Angela
’s eyes rounded. “B—but you’re a duchess!” she sputtered. “Almost every woman in the kingdom would love to trade places with you.”
“Yes, almost,” Julia mumbled, staring at the cards in her hand. “Simon, do get on with it. I’ve got ten pounds to win yet.”
They all went out to meet the carriage as it lumbered into the drive.
It took forever for her friend to descend but when Sophie finally appeared, Julia rushed forward. The two women laughed and embraced, then Sophie pulled back sharply. She glanced down. “Julia! The rumor is true. You’re . . .”
“Yes, I know. I have a lot to tell you, but not until you come inside. Good afternoon, Lady Ardington,” she said to Sophie’s stepmother.
“Greetings, Your Grace. I do hope our visit is not an inconvenience.”
“Nonsense. We’re glad for the company.” Introductions were made all around and the entire party moved indoors while the Colton footmen took the visitors’ trunks up the stairs.
Sophie looked ready to burst from curiosity. “I know I am dirty and covered with the smell of horses, but I cannot stand another minute more. Please come and walk with me,” she said to Julia.
The two women went to the back of the house, toward the gardens. Fitz appeared out of nowhere, ready to follow them outside. Julia stopped him by lifting her hand. “We are merely going to sit in the gardens, Fitz. No need to come along.”
“Yes, Your Grace. But no farther, if you please.”
Sophie’s jaw dropped, her brown eyes round, as she watched Fitz walk away. “What in the blazes is going on?”
Julia laughed. “Let us go outside and I’ll tell you everything.”
Once they found a bench in the gardens, Julia blurted, “Yes, it’s Colton’s.”
“The baby, you mean?” When Julia nodded, Sophie rolled her eyes. “Well, of course. I never imagined you would be carrying another man’s child. So when you said you were in Paris, you really went . . .”