Passion Regency Style

by Wendy Vella

  “On the dance floor. With my daughter,” Mayfield interrupted. At the other earl’s look of shock, he added, “He’s been a groom in my stables for the past couple of months.” When he saw the earl’s look change to one of anger, he added, “I didn’t know it was him until this evening. Now, it seems my wife would like him as a son-in-law, but we both know that won’t happen if he thinks he’ll remain cut off from the Aimsley earldom for the rest of his life.”

  Rolling his eyes, Aimsley shook his head. “Christ! He’s as stubborn as I am,” he complained, obviously referring to Alistair. “Lady Aimsley is on the verge of divorcing me over this. I find I am rather fond of her, so, of course, I have every intention of making it right,” he claimed, still keeping his voice low.

  Nodding, Mayfield regarded his glass of scotch. He downed it in one gulp, closing his eyes as the liquor burned the back of his throat. “Then do so, would you?” he pleaded. “For both our sakes? If it helps, you’ll probably gain a daughter out of it,” he added with an arched eyebrow. “Lady Aimsley will appreciate that, no doubt.”

  Thinking of how pleased his wife would be to learn of a possible daughter, the earl gave him a grin. “Consider it done,” Aimsley said before drinking his own scotch. He gave Mayfield a nod and took his leave of the card room.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  A Proposal of Sorts

  Although the spring evening was chilly, Julia didn’t seem to notice. Alistair offered his topcoat as they made their way down the flagstones behind the ballroom and ended up in the same garden where they had shared their first kiss.

  Julia shook her head. “I am quite warm from the dance,” she replied, her hands clasped together at her back. Once they were in the part of the garden where the roses would grow later in the summer, Alistair reached for Julia’s hand.

  “I want nothing more than to kiss you, my lady. For the rest of my days, but ...” He heard Julia’s soft inhalation, saw the look of anticipation in her eyes, and in the way she seemed to lean toward him. “But I think it only fair that I do not. You deserve a man who can provide for you in the manner to which you’ve become accustomed ...”

  “I have a dowry,” Julia said suddenly.

  “... My father has cut me off ...”

  “Because you sold your commission,” she interrupted with a nod.

  Alistair stared at her for a moment. “Yes. How ... How did you know?” he asked, one brow furrowed.

  Julia gave a slight shrug. “I spoke with my cousin and his new wife,” she admitted, not able to make eye contact with him just then. “You sold it to raise the funds for the widow you visited last week. I understand. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, Alistair. Your actions were most honorable.”

  Alistair wondered how much Gabriel Wellingham had told Julia. Did she know he was the son of an earl? “Nevertheless, they have left me without the means to take a wife,” he argued with a shake of his head.

  The sound of a throat being cleared had them both turning in surprise. Alistair pulled Julia so she was positioned behind him, a move he made by reflex, as if he meant to protect her from an attacker.

  “Excuse me, Lady Julia, but I wondered if I might have a moment of my son’s time?”

  Alistair stared at his father. The Earl of Aimsley was dressed in his finest clothes, one hand holding an ornately carved cane on which he leaned. “Lady Julia, may I present my father, Mark Comber, the Earl of Aimsley,” Alistair stated formally, stepping to one side so he and Julia were side-by-side.

  Julia curtsied to the earl, who gave her a very deep bow despite his apparent need for a cane. “My lady,” he said as he reached for her hand and brushed his lips over her gloved knuckles. “I apologize for the interruption. I do hope, though, that my son is not guilty of accosting you in your own gardens,” he said with a raised eyebrow, one that looked as if it could have been Alistair’s, they were so much alike. “Or any others, for that matter,” he added as he gave his son a glance.

  Julia straightened, her chin raised in a defiant pose. “Not at all. In fact, he would not even kiss me, despite my willingness to allow him to do so,” she stated as if she were offended, moving away from the two men to stand with her arms crossed.

  The earl let out a chuckle and turned his attention to his son. “A bit like your mother, isn’t she?” he said, his tone indicating more approval than not.

  Alistair gave his father a look of uncertainty. “I suppose. Perhaps that is why I find myself wanting to marry her,” he said, as if Julia wasn’t standing just a few feet away. Despite his gaze on his father, he was aware of her turning to stare at him.

  “Then do so,” Aimsley ordered gently. “You’re welcome to return to Aimsley House whenever you wish, although I have it on good authority that Mayfield is not going to be happy about your leaving his stables,” he added with an arched eyebrow. “I’ll leave you to work out the details with him in that regard. In the meantime, I’ll have my secretary resume your allowance and see to the monthly payments to the widow.”

  Alistair stared at his father. What had happened to change his mind? “Why?” Alistair asked before the earl could say another word.

  The older man shrugged. “It’s the honorable thing to do,” he stated simply. After a pause, he added, “And because your mother is rather angry with me.” This last came out in a hoarse whisper. “Life at Aimsley House has not been the same since your return to these shores. If you could ... say something to her on my behalf, I would be most appreciative.” He paused, turning to give Julia a meaningful look. “Say, appreciative enough to pay for your wedding trip?” With that, the earl gave them both a bow and took his leave of them.

  Alistair stared after his father, stunned at the man’s sudden change of heart—and his last offer. Another moment and he turned to regard Julia just as the faint sounds of the orchestra could be heard. “We’ve been out here far too long,” he said as he reached for her hand.

  Expecting Alistair to say something different, Julia bit her lower lip with a tooth. “Do you honestly think anyone will notice?”

  Alistair regarded her with a grin. “At some point, I suppose your mother and father will,” he said. “Are you ... are you sure you want to marry me?” he asked then, taking hold of one of her hands to kiss the back of it.

  Julia was about to reply when she let out her breath. “Are you ... proposing?” she countered, one eyebrow arced up.

  Smiling, Alistair took hold of her other hand and held them both in front of his lips. “I am,” he answered with a nod. “Will you marry me?”

  Julia’s eyes brightened, as if unshed tears covered them. “Yes. Yes I will,” she replied, angling her head so he could kiss her.

  Alistair touched his forehead to hers before taking her lips with his own, bestowing a light, sweet kiss on his fiancée. “May I have this dance?” he asked in a whisper.

  Julia listened for the strains of music coming from the ballroom. The members of the orchestra were still tuning their instruments, but she remembered what was to be played next when they’d left the ballroom. After the Cotillion ... “It’s the supper dance,” she said. “A waltz. I ... I cannot,” she said with a shake of her head.

  Furrowing his brows, Alistair straightened as if he’d been challenged. “The hell you can’t,” he countered. He placed her hand on his arm and led her up and out of the garden.

  Ignoring his curse, because her mother had said men made them frequently and usually didn’t mean anything by them, Julia hurried to keep up. “But, I don’t have a voucher,” she protested.

  Alistair continued to lead them to the French doors at the end of the ballroom. “Voucher?” he repeated, not taking her meaning.

  “I need a voucher from one of the patronesses at Almack’s. It’s a sort of ... permission to dance a waltz,” she explained, nearly breathless from their quick walk back to the ballroom.

  “And, if you don’t have one, what will happen?” he asked, leading them through the doors and immediately
onto the dance floor. In another turn, he bowed. Taking one of her hands in his, he placed the other just behind her waist. Before Julia could say another word of protest, they were suddenly floating in wide circles over the floor.

  “I’m not actually sure,” Julia managed to say, finding she suddenly cared little for what the patronesses of Almack’s would have to say. With Alistair’s strong lead and the beautiful music, Julia found waltzing the easiest of any of the dances to perform. Her feet barely touched the floor!

  “And just what do you think you’re doing with my cousin?”

  Alistair took his eyes off of Julia for only a moment to give Gabriel Wellingham a passing glance. The earl seemed a bit alarmed at seeing Julia with him. “Dancing with her. She might be your cousin, Trenton, but she’s my future wife,” he retorted with a cocked eyebrow.

  Gabriel’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You rake!” he accused with a grin that made its way into a smile.

  Sarah Wellingham, Countess of Trenton, gave Julia her own smile as she was passing under Gabriel’s arm. “Best wishes, my lady,” she offered with a wink before Gabriel had them spinning off in the other direction.

  When Sarah was once again facing her husband, she gave him a grin. “She’s the very best cousin a girl could have,” Sarah commented, delighting in how much her husband seemed to be enjoying the evening. Despite the confident face he showed his peers, she knew he had felt a bit of trepidation at attending the ball. His mother’s cousin was a most gracious hostess, though, and she seemed genuinely happy at Gabriel’s news that he had married. She’d even pulled Sarah into a hug in the vestibule!

  “She’s not as pretty as you, though,” Gabriel countered with a grin.

  Sarah blushed at his words, figuring at least three couples in their vicinity overheard his claim. “So, you’re not regretting taking a commoner as your countess?” Sarah wondered, nearly breathless from the dizzying dance.

  “Never,” Gabriel said with a shake of his head. “Although, I admit, I regret not having done so earlier,” he said as he steered them off the dance floor and to a space behind a potted palm. The smooth transition from leading her in the waltz to escorting her to the palm with one of her hands held in his made it look as if he had practiced the move. “Gabe would be my heir,” he explained when he noticed her quizzical expression.

  “True,” Sarah agreed with a nod. “But I’m looking forward to having ... how did you put it? An heir and a spare,” she claimed with an arched eyebrow.

  Gabriel’s own eyebrows lifted. “I do hope there will be a daughter or two in the mix,” he replied before pulling her into a kiss, making his intentions for later that evening very apparent.

  When Gabriel finally ended the kiss, Sarah leaned back and dared a glance around them. No one seemed to notice their illicit behavior, or if they did, they were polite in not staring in their direction. “Perhaps we should take our leave then,” she suggested.

  Smiling, Gabriel escorted his wife out of the ballroom.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Marriage to a Groom

  “My father wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t about to allow you to leave his stables,” Julia commented as she watched her husband lead a yearling from its stall toward a ring of fencing he’d set up in the alley behind Mayfield House.

  Alistair gave his wife of three months a grin. “He was not. But he knows it’s where I belong,” he replied, allowing the yearling to buck and kick a few times before he shortened the lead and whispered something soothing to the filly. “I figured I would be an old man before I could afford this many horses and a stable as well-equipped as Lord Mayfield’s.”

  The earl had allowed Alistair a good deal of leeway in redesigning and adding onto part of the building that had been the stables. Now it was more than just a mews and carriage house. There was enough carriage space to house all of the earl’s equipage as well as more stables to accommodate the addition of the filly and colt that were in the parkland behind the mews. Another structure held the tack and saddles.

  “What brings my lady out here?” he wondered, noticing she wore neither a pelisse nor a bonnet but his favorite teal blue gown. The afternoon was chilly, but unlike most of the days of the summer of 1816, it wasn’t raining.

  Julia gave him a teasing smile. “As you are no doubt aware, my parents just left for their ride in Hyde Park,” she said as her head angled toward the retreating forms of Lord and Lady Mayfield.

  “I know. I helped ready their horses,” Alistair said with a shrug. And then he suddenly realized what she was inferring. “I’ll be right there,” he added with a sense of urgency, tying the yearling’s lead to a post. “And you’re going to learn patience,” he said in a hoarse whisper to the yearling.

  Giggling, Julia was already running through the garden, making her way to the back door. Alistair caught up to her before she made it into the house. By the time they reached their bedchamber, Alistair had his shirt off, and Julia’s gown lay in a heap on the floor.

  “You minx,” Alistair breathed as he nipped one of her ears with his teeth. He could feel her fingers undoing the buttons of his trousers, feel them sliding between his smalls and his hips so she could push down his garments all at once. Stepping out of his boots, he found he could also step out of the trousers.

  Left naked, he regarded Julia as she seemed to admire his body, her small hands reaching up to caress his shoulders and skim down his chest, barely touching the dark, crisp hair that covered it. They finally made their way very slowly to his erection, one hand gripping him while the other cupped his sac.

  Alistair had to suppress a louder than normal gasp, but with her hands occupied, it meant he could undo the ties of her corset. Through her chemise, his lips found their way to her nipples. Still red from his earlier ministrations, they puckered at his touch, the touch made more erotic with the fabric pressed against them. Julia inhaled sharply, her spine arcing back so that he could have his way with her breasts. Using his chin to lower her chemise below each nipple, Alistair laved his tongue across each hardened bud, inciting a series of sighs and gasps from his wife.

  Who would have ever guessed Lady Julia would be such an enthusiastic bedmate?

  When her hold on him loosened, her attention having been diverted to the sensations his lips were creating around her breasts, Alistair took the opportunity to lift her into his arms. Kissing her until she allowed a moan to escape, he lowered her to the bed, turning her on her side. He curled his own body behind hers, his thighs pressed to the back of hers as his hardened manhood slid between them. Wrapping an arm around to the front of her body, he grasped one of her breasts.

  Her breaths coming in short gasps, Julia was suddenly aware of his manhood slipping inside her tight sheath. She arched her back a bit, allowing him to penetrate her deeper. “We’ve never ... done this ... before,” she whispered, her words broken by her panting breaths.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Alistair whispered back, his teeth nibbling her earlobe. “We’ll soon have to do it this way if you want me to continue visiting you every night.”

  Julia smiled, thinking Alistair didn’t so much as visit her in her bedchamber, but rather lived in it for the entire night.

  Not that she would have allowed him to go to his own bedchamber.

  Unless she was with him, of course.

  “Oh?” she managed to respond as his ministrations were causing all sorts of pleasant sensations deep inside. She felt his hand open and caress her belly, sending skitters of pleasure beneath her skin. “Ooh,” she whispered, and then realized to what he referred. She’d missed another round of monthly courses, and the Harrington family physician had confirmed she was expecting. “Do you think it will be a boy?” she wondered, dimly aware that his breathing had turned to moans, and his quickening thrusts into her were sending the bed rocking into the wall.

  He did something—Julia wasn’t quite sure what—that sent her body over the edge so she was suddenly engulfed in a t
ide of pure pleasure, her body at once riding atop and then toppling about and coming back to start its ride on the wave of pleasure all over again.

  At some point, she spoke his name, gripped the hand that held her to his body, clenched on his hardened manhood deep inside her body. She smiled when she felt as much as heard his release as he groaned and spilt his seed in her, and then suddenly pulled her harder against the front of his body.

  The mere movement of his fingers sent the skittering sensations coursing through her again. She nearly giggled, knowing Alistair would need a few minutes to return to his own body—and then he would doze for a few minutes. This time after their couplings was precious, for they used it to speak of their future and tell one another their secrets.

  “A girl,” he murmured sleepily, pulling her body up and onto his as he settled onto his back. He kissed her cheek before allowing his head to sink into the pillow.

  Not used to being held atop Alistair, Julia forced herself to relax as she moved her head into the small of his shoulder and her bottom between his thighs. Her hands went to her own belly, her delicate fingers smoothing over the skin before drawing intricate circles that tickled just under the skin. “Why a girl?” she wondered, surprised he wouldn’t be hoping for a son.

  Alistair moaned. “Our son will need someone to teach him how to dance,” he explained with a grin, his thoughts once again coherent. “And if he’s anything like me, I rather doubt a younger sister will be able to manage him,” he added in a teasing tone.

  Grinning, Julia turned her head and kissed her husband on the corner of his mouth. “But you’ll teach him how to bow, I hope,” she murmured, remembering how perfect his bow to her was when they first met.

  Cocking an eyebrow, Alistair agreed with a nod. “But who, my sweeting, will teach him how to kiss?” he whispered playfully, just before he suddenly felt a bit of alarm.

  Julia smiled before letting out a giggle. “You need to ask, darling? A Trenton girl, no doubt,” she said happily. It was a long time before Alistair could sleep again.