by Alyson Chase
The woman’s shoulders sagged. “Elizabeth won’t take me.”
“For your own good.” Mrs. Fry broke open her second scone. “You wouldn’t last two seconds,” she said around her mouthful. She swallowed and turned to Amanda. “Now, since you do understand the horrors of that prison, how can you refuse to try to change it? Prison reform is needed now. We don’t have time to wait for you to get comfortable.”
“You have ambitions beyond eliminating capital punishment.” Lady Mary pulled out another treat. She pointed to the floor, and Reggie slid to his belly. As soon as the morsel was in his mouth, he popped back up to his haunches.
Mrs. Fry nodded. “Capital punishment is just the first step. Every reasonable person should understand the injustice of executing children and adults for petty crimes. But so much more needs to be done.”
“Then you debate Lord Hanford!” Amanda stood. “You have the passion and the knowledge of the subject. Why come to me?”
“Hanford has already engaged with you.” Mrs. Fry flattened her lips. “He’s responded to you when he never has to me. I think it is because of your unique position. Someone who was nearly executed by mistake, without the benefit of a fair trial. And the sister of a duchess. That gives you leverage. A voice most people do not have. You need to use it.”
Pounding her fist into her thigh, Amanda spun away from the women. It all sounded so easy coming from Mrs. Fry’s mouth. But the reformer was confident. She couldn’t understand the way Amanda’s throat closed up just thinking about facing a crowd.
Lady Mary tried to be the voice of reason. “Perhaps we should look into a way to make Hanford take notice of you, Mrs. Fry. If you co-wrote a piece with Amanda, that would bring you to the marquess’s attention.”
“Miss Wilcox is the one with the notoriety,” Mrs. Fry insisted. “All the letters to the editor are directed to her. She is the obvious choice.”
“Well, I have every confidence that Amanda will do what she feels is right.” Lady Mary stirred a lump of sugar into her tea with a decided manner. Her spoon clinked heavily against the china, and each strike of the teacup felt like a blow to Amanda’s body. Everyone thought she could be stronger than she was. Had faith in her. And she was going to let them all down.
The walls that had always felt so safe loomed close. Amanda’s stomach heaved, and she clenched her hands together. For so long, safety had been her goal. Going to bed without fear had been a luxury, one she wouldn’t take for granted. But safety was no longer enough. She wanted to be free.
Something tugged on her skirt. She looked down, and Reggie whined, pawing at her leg. He needed to go out.
She sucked down a large breath, forced her shoulders to unclench.
And she was going to be the one to take him.
Resolved, she turned to face her guests. “Reggie needs a walk. I’ll leave you with Lady Mary. Enjoy your afternoon, ladies.”
She strode from the room, tapping her thigh. “Come, Reggie.” His nails clicked on the wood floor behind her. When she asked the footman to fetch his lead, Reggie spun in paroxysms of delight. Or confusion. He’d never seen Amanda with the lead before.
She attached it to his collar and faced the door the footman swung open.
The young man eyed her curiously and raised an insolent eyebrow as the seconds ticked by and she didn’t move. “Shall I take the dog for his walk?”
“I can do it.” Her voice wheezed through her throat, thin and thready.
“I don’t suppose you need an attendant.”
Amanda didn’t know if that was a question or a statement. Either way, she wouldn’t make it if a footman followed ten steps behind, watching her every stumbling step.
“I don’t suppose I do.” She took a step forwards. Another. Her forward momentum was made easier as Reggie tugged at the lead, eager for the out-of-doors. The slanting afternoon sun caught her across the face, and she squinted. The glare made it easier to step across the threshold. She didn’t see the barrier. But she felt the change in the air as soon as she crossed it.
Reggie yipped and strained for the steps down to the drive. The lead slid through her fingers, and she readjusted her grip, holding the loop firmly between her cold hands.
Three steps until she reached the top of the stairs. Reggie stared up at her from the bottom, prancing in a circle, encouraging her on. Two steps down, and she stood on the curb. If she broke her journey down into small segments, it would be possible. It would be roughly fifty paces until she reached the street. She could walk fifty paces.
Bringing her hands to her mouth, she blew on the stinging skin. She’d forgotten her gloves. And a coat. She looked over her shoulder at the open rectangle of the front door. The footman stood to the side, watching her like she was a monkey in a menagerie.
If she went back for her gloves, she wouldn’t come back out.
Setting her shoulders, she forced her feet forward. She counted each step, staring at the pavement in front of her. When she hit fifty, she started counting up from one again. Any number higher than fifty made her throat close and her lungs burn.
She reached the street at thirty-four paces, and shied back when a man hurried past. Reggie sniffed at a bush, squatting to pee, and Amanda let him take his time. She stared at the ground and tried to block the world out. She couldn’t look back at the house. If she saw the distance between herself and safety …
The sounds from the street were strangely deadened. All she heard clearly were the ragged breaths clawing in and out of her throat. She kept her elbows pressed tight to her sides and tried to take up as little room as possible on the sidewalk.
Reggie tugged her ahead and she stumbled, losing count of her first few steps. The sound of her heartbeat thrashed in her ears, blocking out even her pants. Her legs trembled, went soft, and she had to grab onto the fence next to her to stay upright.
Reggie danced around her, tangling the lead.
She couldn’t catch her breath. It was like she was wearing ten corsets at once, each one pulled tighter than the next. Little black spots swam in front of her eyes.
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she jumped. A man stood next to her, eyebrows lowered. His mouth moved, but Amanda didn’t hear him. She uncoiled the lead from around her feet and skittered away. She reached the corner and took a left.
She would start again at one. She quickened her pace so each count matched her heartbeat. One hand gripped Reggie’s lead so tightly the leather imprinted in her skin. The other opened and closed uselessly by her side.
She reached the next corner and whimpered. She was now as far from the house as her walk around the block would take her. She should take comfort. Each step would be bringing her closer to home.
Reggie tugged again, and she stumbled after him. Twenty-one, twenty-two …. Someone else bumped into her, and she lost count. She fisted her left hand, digging her nails into her palm. Start over. One, two …. Tears scalded her eyes. It was no use. Her whole body shook. In a lifetime of reckless decisions, this one had topped them all. She swayed to a stop, her head spinning.
She wasn’t going to make it back home. Blinking, she tried to fight back the encroaching darkness, but she was losing this battle like all the others.
A tear rolled down her cheek. Why was she so weak? She’d thought she’d found some confidence these past weeks, but it had only existed when Julius stood beside her.
As though wishing made it happen, a warm hand slid around hers and squeezed.
Amanda looked to her side and tried to bring Julius into focus. The instant his fingers had touched her, she’d known it was him. Warm. Strong. Comforting. Her shoulders sagged with relief. She’d make it home.
A slightly hysterical laugh burst from her lips. “I thought I could take Reggie for a walk.”
The skin around his eyes crinkled. He cupped her cheek and leaned close. “And you have. Now it’s time to go home.” Julius bundled her into his side. He unbuttoned his great coat and wrapped one flap o
f it around her body. With one side of her pressed against him and the other covered in the heavy coat, she quickly warmed up. His arm around her waist gave her strength. With a shuddering breath, she nodded and stepped forward.
Julius took the lead from her hand and matched her pace. His breath blew hot against her cheek. “When I arrived at Marcus’s and the footman told me you were out, I almost had a fit. I’m going to throttle the man for not accompanying you.”
“I didn’t want him to.” Although had she fainted, it would have been nice to have someone to carry her home.
Julius brushed his lips over her brow. “I’m so proud of you for facing your fears.”
She’d been a terrified puddle of mush, about to collapse on a public street. She didn’t see how that qualified her for accolade. But her voice was still too unsteady to argue.
“I need to apologize for what I said last night. Having ropes on me again …” He shook his head. “I didn’t handle it as well as I’d hoped. And I took my wretchedness out at you, which was unforgivable.” Stopping at the corner, he tilted her chin up with his finger. “But I hope you’ll forgive me, just the same.”
The sincerity in his eyes slayed her. She looked away and wrestled with her expectations. Nothing had changed. He was the same man he’d always been: kind, decent, and temporary.
The pedestrians walking past gave them shocked looks. Snuggled up against a man, sharing his coat on a public street, was positively indecent. If anyone recognized Julius, his reputation would suffer.
She pushed against his chest and stepped back. “I wasn’t trying to trap you into a commitment.”
He pulled her back close. “I know. You had no expectations.” He pinched his lips. “In fact, if ever a woman presumed too little, it is you.” Shaking his head, he pressed her hand to his chest. “But we can discuss that later. I need to know if you forgive me?”
A woman strode by, bumping Amanda’s shoulder. “Disgusting,” she hissed.
Amanda shifted. “Julius, we’re standing too close. People are judging us.”
“I don’t care about their opinions.” Resting his forehead on hers, he sighed. “I care about yours.”
Amanda closed her eyes and gave into the pain she knew was to come. She would take whatever scraps of attention Julius would give to her, for as long as he was interested. And then he would leave. Leave her to become the spinster aunt to Liz’s children. Leave her and take on other lovers, ones he could escort to balls and the theatre. Leave her to ache in the half-life she would have without him.
He was a good man. He’d want to see her happy and healthy before he moved on. And that would be her gift to him. She’d present him with someone strong. Someone who didn’t need Julius’s arms wrapped around her in order to fall asleep. Someone who didn’t have a fit of the vapors stepping out of doors. She would show him a woman who was happy, so he could leave with no regrets.
“Of course, I forgive you.” She knew better than anyone how close together fear and anger lie in the human heart. She’d jumped, heart racing, whenever her father had entered a room. It had taken less than a second for the terror to transform into a blinding rage when her father had implied he’d turn his attentions to Elizabeth. That rage had taken her senses. It had given her the strength to overcome a man twice her size and drive a steak knife deep between his ribs.
It had left her stone-faced as she’d watched the man who’d raised her gasp for life, only to drown in his own blood.
Julius saying a few harsh words couldn’t compare. His not loving her enough was merely a fact of life. Nothing that needed forgiveness.
She tugged at the sides of his coat. “Now, can we get back home? I think I’ve used up my daily allotment of courage.”
They hurried down the street, pausing only to let Reggie sniff another dog. When they reached their drive, Julius slid the hand at her waist around to her stomach. “Will you wait for me in my room?”
Amanda turned at the foot of the porch. Did he truly think she would deny herself the pleasure of his bed? That her forgiveness had a limit? “Of course.”
Nodding, he bustled her up the steps and knocked on the front door. He tossed his hat to the footman who opened it. “I’ll take Reggie down to the kitchen for his dinner,” Julius said. He nodded his chin towards the stairs, and Amanda took that as her cue to make for his room.
She took the steps two at a time. Out of breath, she held her hand to her side and made her way down the hall at a more dignified pace.
The evening fire had already been laid in Julius’s room. Amanda kicked off her slippers and sat on the edge of the chair in front of it, rubbing her hands together before the flames.
Julius pushed through the door, holding a tray in his hands, and kicked it shut. He set the tray on the low table next to her. “I got our dinners, as well as the dog’s.” Shucking his coat, he sank into the chair next to her. He stretched his legs out and sighed.
Amanda fixed a small plate and handed it to Julius. “You seem happy.”
“I will concede content.” He turned his head to look at her. “It is a great burden off my mind to know you forgive me.”
Amanda nibbled on a bit of beef pie. “I, too, am glad we’re no longer in a quarrel.”
Julius slid his cravat off and unbuttoned his vest, getting comfortable. The white silk shirt beneath clung to his chest, and Amanda tried not to stare. He dove into his meal. A bit of sauce pooled at the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away, and stuck the tip of his thumb in his mouth, sucking it off.
The tips of her breasts tingled with heat. Her body remembered how good his mouth felt. She undid the top two buttons at her neck and gulped down some wine. The chairs were positioned too close to the fire.
Julius narrowed his gaze on her throat. Setting his plate down on the table, he asked, “Hot?”
She nodded.
“There’s a solution to that.” Crossing one leg over the other, Julius rested his elbow on the armrest, and his chin on his fist. “Stand up.”
She stood.
“Take off your dress. Slowly.” Julius swirled the wine around in his glass and took a sip, his gaze never leaving hers.
Wanting to tear the heavy cotton from her body, Amanda forced herself to ease the buttons through their holes. When she reached the waist of her gown, she shrugged the sleeves off her shoulders. The material fell to her waist, and she pushed the dress over her hips and to the floor. She plucked it from the ground and began to fold it.
Julius took it from her hands. “Later.” He tossed the garment over his shoulder and sat up. “With the firelight behind you, I can see every line of your body beneath your shift.”
Amanda twisted, trying to see what he did.
He growled. “I can see how hard your nipples are for me. Hard and tight and begging for my mouth.” Grabbing a fistful of the skirt of her chemise, he pulled her between his legs. He rubbed his thumbs over the tips of her breasts. “Your skin must be so sensitive right now. Is your shift scraping against your skin? Driving you crazy?”
Her chest rose and fell beneath his hands. “Yes.”
He slid his hands down her sides and tugged her closer. Close enough that when he stretched his neck, he could take one of her hard peaks in his mouth.
She fisted the shoulders of his shirt. Arching her back, she tried to press more of her flesh into his hot mouth. The first pull sent a bolt of desire straight to her core. “Julius,” she moaned.
“Shhh.” He blew against the wet fabric, and her knees buckled. Only his hands kept her upright. He moved to her other breast, lavishing the same attention on it.
Dazed, she glanced down. The thin cotton had become translucent where his tongue had laved. Her nipple stood dark and erect beneath the clinging shift.
Setting her back a step, Julius cupped her breasts. Then he grabbed the neck of the chemise and tore it down the middle.
Amanda gaped at him.
“Get on the bed.” Julius toed off his boot
s. He tugged the ruined garment from her body and then smacked her lightly on the bottom to get her moving.
She scampered to the four-poster. Her skin felt tight, itchy, as though it didn’t quite stretch properly around her frame. Running her palms down her thighs, she sucked in a deep breath and devoured Julius with her eyes. He removed his clothes with a ruthless efficiency, his shirt tearing at the shoulder when he ripped it over his head. Every inch of skin he exposed made Amanda ache. She loved the feel of his body pressed against hers, slick with sweat, hot from exertion. She clenched the coverlet.
She wanted to feel every inch of him.
He prowled towards her, his eyelids at half-mast. He raised a knee on the bed, and she pressed her hand against his chest to stop him. She held her breath. The last time she’d expressed this desire, things had gone very wrong. “Julius, I want …”
“Tell me.”
She dug her fingers into the dusting of dark hair across his chest. “You said you’d go without the linen if we … you know.” How did people normally talk of this? Did people talk about it, or did men just take what they wanted without the conversation? She wished she could be more direct, but her upbringing didn’t allow the words to pass her lips. She was sure she wasn’t alone. And if it wasn’t talked about, and men dove right in, there must be a lot of confused women in England.
His eyes glittered darkly. “Are you offering me your arse tonight, Amanda?”
Cheeks burning, she nodded. Perhaps directness was overrated. A euphemism never hurt anyone.
He skimmed his palm from her hip to her breast. “Are you certain? Because I would love nothing more than to feel you wrapped around me, skin to skin. To empty myself deep within you.”
She dug her nails into him and shuddered. “Yes,” she whispered.
He took her lips, his kiss gentle, slow. His tongue found hers and met it stroke for stroke. He placed one hand at her nape and one hand on her bum, and pulled her into his body. His cock pressed against her belly, heat rolling off of it in waves. The kiss turned feral. He nipped at her tongue and swallowed her moans down as though he needed them to survive. The tips of his fingers dug into her bottom, and each point of pressure sent a twinge of desire to her core.