Julian shifted as if he was also uncomfortable. He then drew her even closer to him and dropped another kiss—on her cheek this time—too close to her mouth for comfort. Yet another kiss, now on her mouth. He nuzzled the soft skin of her neck. He began breathing harder, his body tensing as she arched against him.
“No,” he whispered, “this is madness.”
Roxanne nodded and lifted her face to his. His lips rested gently on hers at first and then took masterful possession of her mouth. She reached up and clasped the back of his neck, feeling soft tendrils of hair tickling her hand. Groaning, he crushed her against his chest as he rolled almost on top of her. Roxanne thought fleetingly that she enjoyed the weight of his body against hers. The sensation was arousing, not frightening.
His hands roamed gently over her breasts. Again he muttered something about this being madness, but Roxanne didn’t care. Her whole body was alive and singing with the most electrifying feeling, a longing that coursed through her veins like liquid fire.
Their kisses grew hungrier and more demanding. She slid both arms around his neck, and they gasped in the passion of kissing, their bodies straining against each other. Wave after wave of dizzy desire engulfed her. Incredible sensations chased up and down her body.
Julian moved a few inches away from Roxanne, but she pulled him back against her. As she sank into his embrace, she felt herself swept up in a sea of molten lava, her body burning, thrilling to his touch. And they were floating together in a sensation that Roxanne thought indescribable. Sensations caught and lifted her; she felt herself melting as wave after wave of pleasure whirled her round and round.
Then she crashed back into cold reality. She stiffened and tried to push away his encircling arms. Madness, Julian had said, madness and they were indeed mad. Waves of icy fear rolled over her. What had they done? She lay still, Julian slumped on top of her, his arms still around her. Roxanne turned her face to the wall and slow tears of regret coursed down her cheeks. It was her fault, she thought, by asking him to stay. She had broken both his resolve and hers. Julian slept deeply, as if he had not a care in the world.
It’s clearly different for men, Roxanne reflected as she gently stroked his hair.
Finally she fell asleep, wondering what she would say to him in the morning.
Chapter Eleven
Roxanne discovered that after the ball Julian had informed Peters and Ned Skelton they would be returning to Penrose the very next day. When Roxanne opened her eyes she found Sally packing her clothes and personal effects. Shedding a tear or two, Sally told her that all was to be made ready for the journey back home. Roxanne’s heart leaped with joy. Then her spirits sank as she remembered the recklessness of the previous night. She writhed mentally with embarrassment, almost tempted to hide in her room. Sally’s puzzled expression and her plaintive “Miss?” soon roused Roxanne from her bed. She washed and dressed with haste, hoping that Julian would not be inclined to conversation at breakfast.
By happy chance she found the breakfast parlour deserted at the early hour of eight, Julian having breakfasted already and Sophia no doubt still languishing in bed. Roxanne swallowed a mouthful of tea and a slice of toast, but felt that food would choke her. Julian popped his head around the door, startling her.
“Ready?” His boyish grin and air of excitement revealed nothing of the passionate and powerful lover he had been the previous night.
Flushing deep red, Roxanne pretended to dab some drops of tea from her dress with a napkin.
“Yes, I think so,” she replied, trying not to meet his gaze.
“Good! I can’t wait to get back home.”
Roxanne could not help the smile that came so easily at his words. “Me too!”
“You’d better say goodbye to Sophia in her bedroom.” He laughed. “This will be far too early for her to get up.”
A still sleepy Sophia wound her arms around Roxanne’s neck and hugged her hard.
“My dearest, most darling sister-in-law,” she murmured with a sulky pout. “Why do you have to go? Julian is a horrible brother for taking you away, just when I was enjoying myself so much.”
Roxanne disengaged herself from Sophia’s embrace and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”
Sophia yawned, wrinkling her nose like a cross kitten. “I daresay, since Philip will be off on some boring government business in a week and Julian insists I come down and bring Francis to enjoy the countryside.” She eyed Roxanne with a dark look. “You know how I hate that gloomy old mausoleum. It’s only out of love for you that I said yes. I wouldn’t go down for any other reason.”
She rummaged in a small side table next to the bed. “Here, take this. I always find travelling so tedious.” She thrust a red leather bound book into Roxanne’s hands and gave another delicate yawn as she snuggled back into the pillows. “Very dramatic, but I enjoyed it.”
Roxanne kissed her again, feeling even more of a fraud. If only Sophia wasn’t so happy about having a sister-in-law. Dreading spending hours in the carriage with Julian, she made her way downstairs. The luggage was already loaded in the carriage. As Julian came towards her with an apologetic expression, Roxanne noticed he was dressed for riding.
“My dear, will you be very angry if I don’t join you in the carriage?”
He beckoned to one of the grooms, who led a beautiful chestnut horse forward. It was almost a replica of Sirius, with its glossy coat and a long silky mane and tail.
Relieved that Julian was not trying to avoid her, Roxanne clapped her hands. “He’s exactly like Sirius!”
“Yes. I can’t believe it. Philip gave it to me. He’s a sterling brother-in-law.”
Julian’s delight was palpable. He began to enumerate the horse’s finest points, stroking the animal with loving hands. Roxanne glanced at his hands, with their long, tapering fingers and fought to suppress the blush that rose to her cheeks. Julian did not notice a thing. He was so excited about the horse that Roxanne had the feeling he had already forgotten about their night together. She felt a mixture of pique and relief. Again she chided herself for resenting what was a welcome distraction. The excitement of admiring the horse and getting into the carriage took her mind off things. Soon they were on their way home to Penrose.
Alone in the carriage, Roxanne opened the book Sophia had pressed on her. There was nothing worse than being alone and lonely on a long journey, she reflected. The Mysteries of Udolpho promised an exciting, if implausible read. Preparing herself for a Gothic fantasy of supernatural events, a brooding, scheming villain, and a persecuted heroine, Roxanne was surprised to find herself intrigued by Mrs. Radcliffe’s plot.
Time passed quickly and Roxanne was startled when the carriage drew up outside the house. They were home. Rufus leaped around the carriage, barking and wagging his whole body, not just his tail, with delight. All the servants poured out the front door, Mrs. Dawson elbowing Gregson out the way in an undignified manner. Clearly the earl and countess were not expected back so soon, but, judging from their expressions, everyone was overjoyed to see their master and mistress returned home safe. Mopping her tearful face with her apron, Mrs. Perry dashed back into the kitchen, screeching at the top of her lungs for Nellie to start peeling potatoes and for Sam to get himself to the henhouse and be quick about it.
After a tussle between the butler and the housekeeper as to who would carry the tray, Mrs. Dawson triumphantly brought in tea and sandwiches herself, at the same time exhorting Gregson to get the luggage taken to the rooms.
“I hope you kept everyone in good order, Mrs. Dawson?” Julian said to the housekeeper, casting a surreptitious wink at Roxanne.
“Oh I did, to be sure, Master Julian,” she replied, “but we’re all very glad to see you and her ladyship home.”
Julian sank back against the sofa cushions with a cup of tea. “And I can assure you we’re very glad to be home.”
He looked at Roxanne. “Aren’t we?”
&nbs
p; Mrs. Dawson, observing the new Countess of Pennington’s radiant blush, slipped out the room with a discretion born of years in service and informed the interested staff in the kitchen that she reckoned there would soon be good news on the way. When Nellie asked what kind of good news, Mrs. Perry told her to mind her business and get on with the potatoes.
Alone in the drawing room, Roxanne was silent. She sipped her tea, ate a sandwich, fondled Rufus’ ears, and glanced in every direction but that of her husband. A gentle snore made her look at him at last. The sight brought a smile to her lips. Julian had fallen asleep, his chin on his chest. Roxanne carefully removed the cup and saucer, which were tilting perilously near to emptying the contents in his lap, and placed it on the table. Then she went upstairs to her bedroom where an enchanted Becky was unpacking her new finery.
Awestruck, Becky stroked each garment with reverence before placing the items in their allotted places in drawers and wardrobes.
“Oh, Miss, I mean, your la’ship,” she said, “such beautiful dresses.”
Roxanne smiled at her enthusiasm. “Yes, they are. I’m very lucky.”
Becky bobbed a curtsey before suggesting that Roxanne might like to change for dinner. Roxanne agreed despite feeling doubtful about finally facing Julian. Thus far, circumstances had offered either distractions or company to prevent them being alone together. So, with a stomach full of butterflies, Roxanne made her way to the dining room.
Although somehow a message wound its way back to Roxanne via Becky that the cook was unhappy about the meagre repast prepared at such short notice, Mrs. Perry had provided an excellent soup, a roast chicken cooked to perfection, vegetables, potatoes, and a fruit tart with custard. The wine was excellent since Julian’s father and grandfather had both laid down a fine cellar. Julian ate and drank with relish and asked Gregson to convey his compliments to the kitchen.
Gregson allowed himself a wintry smile as he replied, “Everyone is most pleased to have you back home, sir.”
Julian raised his glass to Roxanne. “And I can’t tell you how pleased I am to be here!”
Again, Roxanne marvelled to herself how men adapted to a situation with such ease. Julian had obviously decided to wipe his memory clean of their night of passion. She again felt a mixture of anger and relief. What was there to say anyway, she mused. It would be fatal to make love again. They had both agreed upon and signed a binding contract. She told herself to focus on getting the house in proper order. It was the least she could do in exchange for the handsome sum she would receive at the end of their agreement.
Julian concealed a yawn after dinner and apologised for being such dull company. “I am exhausted,” he confessed.
“Of course you are,” Roxanne replied, also anxious for the sanctuary of her bedroom. “A long journey does that.”
Julian leaned across the table to clasp her hand. “You are the perfect wife. So understanding.”
Roxanne smiled, but felt a strange piercing pain in her chest. She was not his wife. She would never be his wife.
The next day, the entire household slipped back into the comfortable, busy routine that Roxanne had enjoyed before her London trip. Yet she felt a subtle change in the atmosphere. Somehow their return had cemented her presence in life at Penrose. Roxanne filled her days with useful, worthy household projects, which included clearing the attic, filled with dust, cobwebs, an army of spiders angry at being invaded, and many childhood items that had belonged to the family. There were several charming pieces of furniture that Roxanne thought would fit in well, after a good polish. She also discovered several portraits of Bevin, but Roxanne thought it prudent to leave them there. Some memories, she thought, were best left undisturbed. After the attic came the cellars, inhabited by a family of rats.
“It seems a pity to toss them out into the cold,” she remarked to Sam, who wielded a large broom against the fleeing rodents.
“The problem with rats is they got lots of kinfolk,” he said sagely. “My gran says for every one you see there’s a hundred an’ more hiding round the corner.”
Roxanne stared at the squeaking evacuees. “Maybe you’re right.”
A commotion at the front door soon attracted her attention. Hoping it was not visitors because she was not dressed to receive anyone, Roxanne untied the kerchief she wore to protect her hair, removed her apron and went upstairs. There she found Gregson wringing his hands in a state of excitement and agitation and Rufus leaping about with his normal enthusiasm.
“Milady,” he said, “’tis young Miss Sophia.” Then recollecting his position, he coughed, and announced in his usual sonorous tones, “Her Grace, the Duchess of Silverton and young Master Francis.”
Roxanne was astonished to see tears glisten in the old retainer’s eyes as Sophia, dressed in the height of fashion, bounced inelegantly through the front door, throwing her bonnet and several shawls into Gregson’s waiting arms and then embracing Roxanne with fervour.
“Dearest Roxanne, I am here at last.”
The whirlwind then planted a kiss on Gregson’s cheek. “Gregson, how are you? I can see you’ve not changed a bit!”
“Nor you, milady.”
“Oh pooh! It’s Miss Sophia, of course.”
Sophia spun on her heel and ran off in the direction of the kitchen calling for Mrs. Dawson. Rufus bounded after her, barking loudly. A series of joyful shrieks and sobs emanated from the nether regions as the cook and housekeeper no doubt embraced their erstwhile young mistress.
Gregson wiped away a surreptitious tear. “We do all miss Her Grace so much,” he explained.
Roxanne realised that although Sophia had been gone from Penrose for years, it was evident she did not stand on ceremony and the familiar old servants of her childhood were still important to her. Another screech and Sophia flew back into the room.
“Roxanne, I declare I am an unnatural mother! I’ve left Francis and Nurse in the carriage.”
The two women descended the front steps to the carriage where Nurse sat poker-faced and haughty with her young charge on her lap, his mouth trembling at being so precipitously abandoned by his mama. Hard on their heels came the housekeeper and the cook. Within a few minutes Mrs. Dawson and Mrs. Perry had swept the future Duke of Silverton and his nurse away to the kitchen for refreshment.
Sophia hugged Roxanne. “Oh my dear, I thought it would be so awful and gloomy, so dreary, like the Castle Udolpho in that silly book I lent you.”
Roxanne laughed. “I can assure you there is no Orsino lurking in the wings. Sam and I have been through the house from attic to cellar.” She blushed and smoothed back her hair, wondering if she looked a terrible fright.
Sophia did not appear to notice Roxanne’s dishevelled state as she looked around in amazement. “You’ve done so much. It’s all different.” Sophia laughed as she corrected herself. “I mean, it’s all still the same, but more alive. The place has a heart now.”
She linked arms with Roxanne and they began to stroll towards the rose garden.
“All my life I only saw overgrown bushes, weeds, brambles, and hedges like towers.” Sophia reached out and plucked a yellow rose. She tucked it into the front of her dress. “You must have green fingers.”
Roxanne smiled. “I think Sam my gardener is the one with the horticultural gift.”
Sophia giggled. “So modest. I can see why Julian is happy. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him and this place.”
Roxanne was silent. Every day something reminded her about her impending departure. The sound of Rufus’ renewed barking jolted them.
Sophia cried, “It must be Julian. Oh, that wicked, wicked brother of mine!”
With no further explanation as to why Julian deserved this appellation, Sophia sped back to the house, just in time to be swept into her brother’s arms. Roxanne walked behind her at a slower pace, now conscious of her grimy gown, dirty hands and possibly large smudges of coal dust from the cellar on her cheeks. Julian slipped an arm around he
r waist and drew her into their embrace.
“Now I am happy. I have the two most beautiful women in the world in my arms.”
Sophia gave him an affectionate slap. “Such fustian! And me, an old married woman already worn down with childbearing.”
Given that Sophia looked every inch an elegant London beauty attired in the latest fashion, this opinion was hardly fair. However Roxanne saw she was pleased at her brother’s comment. Julian suggested they retire to the parlour for refreshments.
“For I am sure that Mrs. Dawson has forced Nellie and Sam to polish the second best silver tea set already.”
He was not far off this prediction because when Gregson staggered into the room under the weight of an enormous tray of dainties, Roxanne had never seen that silver teapot before. Beaming, Mrs. Dawson bore in a large cake stand filled with a number of delicate cakes.
Julian affected amazement. “Mrs. Dawson! All this for naughty Sophia who deserted us at an early age while your lord and master does not get such a feast on any other day of the year.”
Mrs. Dawson reddened and then said, “Miss Sophia’s our glittering prize that was taken too soon. It’s only the Lord’s mercy has brought her back and with such a beautiful boy too.”
Julian gave a wry smile. “I can see young Master Francis has won all hearts already.”
“Well, he’s the living image of you when you were that age, if all accounts are to be believed,” replied his sister. “And as naughty!”
The two fell to laughing comparisons as to who possibly most deserved the family prize for bad behaviour and mischievous pranks. The afternoon passed pleasantly and it was only when Nurse brought Master Francis to see his mama before having his bath that Roxanne jumped up in dismay.
“I have been so remiss, my dear Sophia. I have done nothing about making arrangements for your rooms.”
Married at Midnight: An Authentic Regency Romance Page 13