“You took an interest in me when no one else did.” Sebastian paused. “You saved my life. That’s why you’ve been with me ever since I was old enough to choose for myself.”
Clearly uncomfortable, Keswick fussed with a fine pair of doeskin gloves. “We shall be with you in Cornwall again, sir. We know Trevarre Hall very well; we’ll assist you and her ladyship in making it livable.”
“That’s not what I want to talk about. I have no patience for raising sheep or restoring the lime kiln,” Sebastian said dismissively, even as his jaw hardened. “I must accumulate real wealth, Keswick, so that I can get the bloody hell out of Cornwall and return to Hampshire. I intend to track down my horses and buy them back, no matter the price, and then I will choose an estate of my own where I can do as I please. Perhaps I can even lease Severn Park from my brother. You can see that’s the only solution, can’t you?”
“Perhaps, my lord, but at what cost?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know you were more than a stable master at Trevarre Hall. I’ve heard about your secret, lawless past, and I am counting on your help.”
Keswick shook his head. “We have grave doubts that a nobleman such as yourself should engage in so a dangerous venture.”
“Of course you do!” snapped Sebastian. “But this decision is not yours.”
Just then, the door to the bedchamber swung open, sending a spill of light over the two men. Julia stood there, still clad in her slim muslin gown, a soft blue cashmere shawl draped around her shoulders. The curls secured atop her head had begun to come loose, softening her look of surprised discomfort. It was an expression that immediately set Sebastian’s nerves on edge.
“Pardon me,” she said. “I thought I heard voices.”
Resisting the appeal of her soft voice, he opened his mouth to remark that apparently there was no privacy left to him now that he was married, but Keswick spoke first.
“There is nothing left for us to do.” The manservant smiled at Julia. “Your own maid came to pack your things while you were dining, my lady. Everything is in order for our morning departure.”
“How lovely,” Julia murmured. “Thank you so much for telling me, Keswick.”
“I will be on my way, then.” Bowing to his new mistress, he backed out the other dressing room door and closed it.
“How can one person be at once sniveling and overbearing?” Sebastian mused as he stared darkly at the door.
“Surely you don’t mean Keswick? I find him quite charming, and certainly reasonable.”
“Of course you do.” He walked past her, back into the bedroom, and poured water into a gold-rimmed bowl he remembered from his childhood. “Was there something you needed? I am at your disposal.”
Yet he didn’t look at her.
Julia watched him, wondering how to proceed.
“I hoped that we might talk for a bit.”
“Talk? Haven’t you been talking to Devon Raveneau all day?”
She felt herself bristle. Who would not bristle at such treatment? “You are my husband, sir, and we are about to embark on a journey together—into a future of which I am wholly ignorant.”
“Madam, have you forgotten the rules we discussed for this marriage? Be glad that I am pretending to go through the motions. Most men, in my place, would have taken you back to Turbans and never laid eyes on you or your family again.”
Julia watched as he reached for a linen towel to dry his face. Even though what he said might be true, it still hurt. “Your rudeness is unpardonable, my lord.”
“Yes, yes. First you hint that you would like me to play the romantic, considerate husband and now you attempt to trade insults with me again. I thought I made it quite clear at the inn that I will have neither.” Sebastian began to unfasten his snug pantaloons. “I am going to bed. You may find this difficult to imagine, but I have countless other problems to occupy my mind other than this hoax you call a marriage.”
Julia turned away while he stripped naked and climbed into bed with a sigh of exhaustion. Every word he’d said had stung her to the core, but she swallowed the angry words. Instead, she looped her shawl over the back of a chair and walked over to present her back to him.
“I do not have a maid tonight, sir, so I would ask that you kindly assist me. No doubt you have unfastened a lady’s gown before?”
His hand reached out to catch the crook of her elbow with long, taut fingers, drawing her down until she was sitting close to him on the bed. Julia, who knew so little of men and their passions, nevertheless felt something in his touch that made the baby hairs on the nape of her neck prickle. Moments later, his fingertips flicked open the tiny buttons on the back of her gown, occasionally brushing her sensitive skin, while delicious shivers coursed down her spine and clustered unexpectedly between her legs. When all the buttons were open, he parted the thin layers of muslin.
“No stays,” Sebastian said, his voice husky. “I like that.”
Julia did not reply. She despised stays, which her mother had always urged her to wear to push her bosom ever higher and to make certain that curves of her body could not be discerned through the gauzy fabric. For her own part, she preferred an extra layer of muslin and her own natural shape.
“Thank you…for your assistance.” Slowly, she turned to look into his wary eyes. “Do you think that now you might talk to me? I realize that you are still angry, but it would be so much nicer if, going forward, you could at least be civil to me.”
He gave a tired sigh. “You already know that George sold Caverleigh House to finance his exile in Tuscany. Everything is gone, it seems, except our desolate ancestral estate in Cornwall.”
Julia held her breath for a moment and looked back at Sebastian’s hard, chiseled face. “Do you mean—that we are going to Cornwall? That we’ll live there?”
“Exactly. You and I are going to embark upon our spurious marriage in the place I detest most in all the world. Do you begin to understand why my mood only grows blacker?”
“Yes…” She longed to ask why he hated it so, but his expression warned her away. It was a relief to hurry across the room and change into her nightgown in the shadows. Glancing back at the bed, she saw that Sebastian had lain back on his pillow, one bare, hard-muscled arm bent across his eyes. The little flurry of sensations commenced again in her nether regions and she was grateful he couldn’t see her telltale blush. By the time she had washed her face and cleaned her teeth with a new boar-bristle brush and her husband’s fine tooth powder, it seemed that he must be asleep.
Tip-toeing back across the room, Julia blew out the candle and climbed up onto the bed. She lay down beside Sebastian and stared at him in the dim bluish light. A surprisingly powerful wave of tenderness washed over her. It came to her that they had more in common than she had realized, for both of them had been rendered powerless by the betrayals of loved ones. Perhaps, in time, they might bind up each other’s wounds and draw strength from one another.
“Julia,” he rasped, reaching out to draw her firmly into his arms. “For God’s sake, close your eyes.”
Her face flamed as she nodded against his cheek. How had he known she was watching him? Could he feel the power of her emotions?
Sebastian took a deep, exhausted breath and whispered against her curls, “I am aware that I’ve been a beast these past two days.”
Her heart skipped. “Well, looking back, I can see that I have given you cause to feel vexed toward me.”
When he made no reply, Julia realized that the cadence of his breathing had changed. Sebastian was asleep, still holding her fast. Lying with her cheek against the warm strength of his chest, she felt a momentary glimmer of hope shine through a crack in her heart.
* * *
At the other end of the corridor, in the grand suite of rooms that had recently belonged to the Marquess and Marchioness of Caverleigh, Devon Raveneau slept beside her husband in a towering carved bed hung with embroidered blue silk draperi
es.
Her eyes flew open for the fifth time that night, just as a clock on the landing softly chimed two o’clock. Devon turned from her back to her side, wondering if the bed was to blame for her restlessness. Not only was the style far too opulent for her taste, but there was something about it that just didn’t feel right.
And where was André? Usually he held her, even in his sleep, or at least kept a hand on her waist. They’d never needed a very big bed because he stayed so close to her.
Turning the other way, Devon opened her eyes and tried to focus in the faint moon glow. To her surprise she saw her husband, lying a distance away on his back, staring at the canopy above them. His expression was so serious that she hesitated to intrude on his thoughts.
At length, Devon reached out and touched him, her hand pale against his brown arm. When André didn’t immediately respond, she murmured, “Darling, is something wrong?”
He took a deep breath, clearly pulling himself into the present moment with an effort. “Petite chatte, what could be wrong when you are near?”
“I have very good instincts, you know.”
“Oh, I do know.” Turning, he brought her into his embrace and stroked her back. “I love you.”
It was a reminder to Devon that no matter how well she might know her husband, and no matter how deep his devotion to her and their family, there were private places deep inside him that he would always guard.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, and closed her eyes, relaxing against him.
“You remind me of all the blessings in my life.” He pressed a kiss to her brow and soon they were both asleep.
Chapter 13
As the sun broke through the clouds, birds began to sing in the elegant garden that was the centerpiece of Grosvenor Square. Sebastian’s coach had just been brought around from the mews behind Caverleigh House and he went forward to check the luggage. Everything seemed to be securely in place, including the paintings he’d chosen, now carefully wrapped and stowed safely atop the other items.
“Do you have everything you need?” asked André Raveneau as he approached.
“Yes. I can’t thank you enough, sir. Your hospitality has been a godsend.”
“We’ve enjoyed having you and Julia here more than you can imagine,” Raveneau said. He looked into Sebastian’s eyes for a long moment before he added, “You’ll be in my thoughts. In fact, if I am called on to travel to France after all, we may visit you in Cornwall.”
“Although we should be happy to see you, I must warn you that Trevarre Hall may not be fit for guests. In fact, I have grave doubts about taking Julia there.”
Before Raveneau could reply, the front door opened and the women emerged with Lindsay, Nathan, and Mouette trailing in their wake.
Sebastian gave his wife a pointed glance. “What’s that crate with your name on it?” he asked. “I didn’t notice it before.”
“Those are my books,” she informed him calmly. “Books…and some small keepsakes. They are all extremely valuable to me.”
“No doubt,” he replied with a sigh. She looked so crisp and fresh, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. A breeze caused her muslin gown to dance around her ankles, and her dark curls gleamed in the sunlight. Yet, it was that face that he found most arresting. Lovely Julia might be, but she always had the look of someone who could do anything she put her mind to, no matter how daunting. The memory of her demeanor the first time they met came to him, unbidden. She had told him off, in firm yet polite terms, in her determination to protect her father.
Sebastian wanted to ask if, in that present moment, she felt even a quiver of uncertainty or even fear when she gazed into their decidedly murky future. Did Julia imagine that she could bend it to her will, no matter what?
“Is there something you wish to say, my lord?” she inquired.
He blinked. “Only that we must make our goodbyes and be on our way. Cornwall is a long way off, you know…nearly at the end of the world.”
Traveling southward, Julia was grateful for Keswick when it came time to break their journey at midday. Standing in the yard at the Rose and Crown, Julia conversed with the amiable manservant while they watched the horses drink. Sebastian made no protest when she insisted that Keswick join their table inside the inn, seeming relieved to have another person between them.
The afternoon brought them into the gently rolling countryside of Hampshire. Spring had colored the trees and meadows a fresh vivid green, and leaves were replacing the blossoms in the orchards of fruit trees. Everywhere Julia looked, there were creamy yellow primrose blossoms, growing in wild profusion along every roadside and around every tree.
Julia tried to look at the scenery and not think about Sebastian. She asked herself, what could be gained by dwelling on the unpleasant episodes that had spoiled the first days of their marriage? Her own mother had always said that men possessed a fierce quantity of pride, and she’d never understood what that meant until now. Pride had caused her father to take his own life, and pride fueled Sebastian’s harsh feelings toward her. When she considered the full import of what she’d done, tricking him at the altar, she had a glimpse from his perspective. She had to be patient, as Devon had advised.
What other choice was there?
And, studying her husband through the coach window as he rode just ahead on horseback, Julia realized that there were more reasons to wait and see. She was intrigued by the adventure that lay ahead. The thought of living in the wilds of Cornwall appealed much more to her than London had. And, in her heart, she could admit that most appealing of all was Sebastian himself.
With so much to see, and so much to ponder, Julia remained occupied as the day slipped by. At length, she began to doze, and when the coach stopped suddenly, she was startled back to wakefulness.
“Where are we?” she called to Keswick when she caught a glimpse of his white wig through the window shade. “Where is my husband?”
“We are still in Hampshire, my lady,” he replied. “His lordship will return shortly, and bids you rest within the coach until then.”
Julia instantly sensed a mystery. “Keswick, please let me come out. I’ll go mad if I have to spend another moment in this box.”
He did as she asked, but was clearly uneasy.
Looking around, Julia saw that they were stopped midway along a drive lined with chestnut trees. Clipped, verdant parkland spread out on either side. Farther ahead of them, the drive turned a corner, and she thought that she could still see a bit of dust lingering in the sunlit air there.
She straightened her Prussian-blue spencer and gave the manservant a confident smile. “How lovely the air smells! It’s bliss to be outside after those hours of confinement. Do you know what I should love better than anything, Keswick?”
“We do not, my lady.”
“I should adore a short promenade. Won’t you grant me that small request? I promise to return shortly, and my mood will be greatly improved by the exercise.”
“My lady, is it not enough that you are here in the fresh air? His lordship has given us explicit instructions!”
This comment grated at her. Did Sebastian imagine that she was his prisoner? “Keswick, I wish to walk a bit after sitting for so long. Is there any good reason why I should not do so?”
“My lady, we beg you to be brief,” he said, capitulating to her persuasive smile.
Julia started off up the drive, but turned back to add, “You really mustn’t let him frighten you, dear Keswick. He’s just a man, you know.”
This piece of advice caused the little man to raise a hand to his brow and groan aloud.
* * *
Walking quickly, Julia soon reached the place where the drive turned, but when a magnificent manor house came into view, she came to an abrupt stop. Built of red brick, in the classical Georgian style favored in recent decades, it featured beautifully manicured boxwood hedges, rows of white-trimmed windows and grounds that swept gracefully into the distant woods. To the e
ast stood empty stables and pasturelands.
The sight of Sebastian dismounting from his horse on the other side of tall hedges sent Julia hurrying off the drive to take shelter behind a chestnut tree. No sooner did he approach the manor house than the front door flew open and two elderly servants, appearing to be the butler and the housekeeper, rushed out.
“Lord Sebastian!” the woman cried. “I saw you riding up the drive from the upstairs window and I knew it was you from the first moment, when you and the horse had just turned the corner.”
“Ah, Mrs. Blodgett, how good it is to see you! And you too, Hartly.” Genuine affection softened Sebastian’s expression.
Julia, overhearing, tried to make herself smaller behind the tree. She could only pray that he didn’t see her as she trespassed on this secret and clearly cherished world from his past.
“My lord,” Hartly said, “tell us that you have undone your brother’s lease of Severn Park. The new occupant is due to take up residence within the next fortnight! Tell us that you have come home for good, to reclaim your life here.”
“I wish that I could say those things, but I cannot. As it happens, I am en route to Trevarre Hall, in Cornwall, and I had to come up to see you, to see the house one more time.” Patting Mrs. Blodgett’s shoulder, he added, “It sickens me to consider the damage my brother has done to so many lives.”
She began to weep. “Your beloved horses are all gone. Of course, you must know that. Oh, your lordship, it breaks my heart to imagine what your mother would have thought about this tragedy. She always said that you should live here where you belong, to continue the work you and she began, breeding horses and—”
He broke in. “I mean to recover the horses, as soon as I am able. Hartly, have you kept records of their buyers? I am especially determined to find my Lucifer.”
“I believe we do have those documents, my lord,” said the butler. “I will make inquiries and send word to Trevarre Hall when I know more. As for Lucifer, I recall that he was purchased by a Cornish gentleman with an estate near Lerryn.”
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