Lavinia shrugged. “We’ve been through this. What do you want me to do? Bring the child home to my husband and say, Look dear? Look at the bastard daughter from my affair with the man I slept with the year before marrying you? I won’t risk his ire. He’s on his death bed and I’m going to stay in his good graces and make sure I get every farthing I deserve. I was very clear to you that if you went and took her from the orphan house I left her in I would never play mother to her.”
“For God’s sake, Lavinia, I grew up in that place, and even if I hadn’t had the misfortune there was no way I was going to leave my child there. I’m fairly certain it’s the gateway to hell.”
“This conversation is the gateway to hell,” Lavinia said, her boredom evident in her tone.
Julianna’s heart thudded so hard each beat pulsed at her neck. There was something dreadfully wrong with this woman, any woman, who could have a child and then pretend the child did not exist. And the man, Nash… Her gaze lingered on him. He stood with his legs spread―powerful legs by the way his trousers clung to the contour of his muscles―and his hands still fisted as if he was just barely holding his anger in check. She understood completely.
“If this is why you asked me to meet you in here, I’m going,” Lavinia snarled. “Stanhope’s brother is here and will be looking for me, and I’m not going to risk being found here with the likes of you for a mere lecture.”
Julianna bit her lip. What a dreadful thing to say, and she knew the words had stung Nash because he’d flinched. So this man was not of the ton apparently?
Lavinia started to march past the man, but he clasped her arm and stopped her flight. “Please come see Maggie. I know your heart will soften if you will just meet her. She’s lovely and spirited and―”
“Oh, do quit!” Lavinia snapped. “You sound sappy, and I much prefer to think of you as the rough and dangerous man who takes what he wants. Remember him? The one who took me on the steps of his home, and on the grass, and in the water?”
The water? Julianna tried to picture how that would work and nearly laughed aloud.
Lavinia pressed her lips to Nash’s cheek. “When that man returns send me a note. I’ll meet you anywhere you desire, darling, as long as it’s for pleasure and not talk of your brat daughter. I’ll be counting the days,” she purred.
“Then you’ll be counting for the rest of you life,” he replied.
“Brava, darling. There’s the Nash that I desire. I knew the forceful boxer I met had to be lingering behind the exterior of the gentleman you are now trying to portray. Don’t be too smug, though. Soon Stanhope will die, and I’ll be free of the old duke. I predict you’ll be in my bed within a fortnight. And I’ll welcome you, darling; truly, you are the best lover I ever had.”
“That’s quite a compliment since I know you’ve spread your legs for many.”
Lavinia threw back her head and laughed, the sound devoid of joy or happiness but full of spite. The hairs on Julianna’s neck stood on end. The hideous woman raised her hand and ran a fingernail down Nash’s chest stopping just above the edge of his trousers.
“I don’t remember you being cruel, but I like it. Maybe we would suit in marriage after all. Remember when you asked me, darling?”
“I remember,” he said flatly. “You told me you’d never marry a mere gaming hell owner, because I was utterly beneath the life you had planned.”
“You sound like a wounded child.”
“And you sound just as I remember―heartless. I want to thank you, actually.”
“What for?” she demanded, her voice sharp with irritation.
Julianna leaned so far forward to hear his answer that suddenly her balance was off and she teetered forward. Her heart jumped to her throat, as she caught herself with her palms and pushed herself backward. As Nash spoke, all her attention was riveted on him.
“Your turning me down was the nicest thing you ever did for me. It left me free to find a true lady to raise my daughter.”
“Is that what you’re doing here? Looking for a lady to marry?” Lavinia’s high-pitched snicker filled the room. “Darling, no respectable lady of the ton would want to marry you. Bed you, yes. Marry you, never.”
Julianna couldn’t take it anymore. This Lavinia woman was cruel and needed to be put in her place. Jumping up, Julianna shoved the balcony doors open and barreled into the room. Nash and Lavinia turned her way at the exact same moment. Lavinia’s eyes rounded, and Nash’s dark eyebrows raised high.
Julianna’s legs trembled, but she stepped forward and narrowed her gaze on the lady who, now that they were face-to-face, Julianna was sure she did not know.
“I’d marry him, if I were looking,” Julianna said, glad her voice came out steady. “In fact, he’s exactly the sort of gentleman any highly regarded lady of the ton would wish to have as a husband, which probably explains why you declined his offer.”
“Who are you?” Lavinia spat.
For a second, Julianna thought of lying, but really, she had done nothing wrong and she had no reason to fear the woman was going to say anything about this encounter to anyone. “I am Lady Barrows,” Julianna replied, her heart lurching with the words that brought her thoughts sharply back to Henry. Shoving his memory away for the moment, she set her hands on her hips and gazed down her nose at the woman who was pretty in a cold, statuesque way. “I’m not inclined to gossip, and I’ll likely forget you the second you’re gone, rather like yesterday’s trash, unless you continue to stand here glaring at me. Then, darling”―she purposely used the endearment the woman had twisted into something ugly when addressing this man―“I will commit your face to memory and be sure to learn who you are, so I can tell everyone of your rather colorful past. I’m sure your poor, dying, husband would be all ears.”
The woman’s eyes grew stony. “My, my you’re certainly the curious cat disguised as a plain mouse. Careful, dear. I think like a fox, and if you persist in getting in my way, I won’t hesitate to destroy you.”
Before Julianna could respond, the woman snarled at Nash, “This isn’t over,” then turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.
As the door slammed shut, Julianna’s breath caught in her chest and her knees almost gave. She locked them in place and pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting back the roaring in her ears. A large, warm hand settled on her arm.
Turning toward Nash, she peered up at him and their gazes locked. Her breath caught again, but this time in her throat with a sort of wonderment. He had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen; the color, greyish blue, reminded her of the sky during a summer storm, dark on the surface with the promise of something light underneath, if only the clouds would part.
“We haven’t been properly introduced,” he said in a voice rich with sensuality.
Sensuality? The most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen?
Julianna froze and tried to pull Henry’s face to memory. For a horrifying moment, she couldn’t. And then he was in her mind, and she gulped in a breath.
“I’m Nash Wolverton, and if you’re looking for a husband, I’d be happy to oblige,” he said with a wink.
When Lady Barrows’s delectably full mouth parted in shock, Nash struggled not to smile. The lady had given him quite the surprise championing him, and he simply could not resist teasing her in return. Conjuring what he hoped was a wounded tone, he said, “That’s not the reaction I was hoping for.”
She twisted her lovely, delicate hands together. “I’m terribly sorry. You see, that speech I just gave, well…” Her words trailed off as she eyed him, a small crease marring the alabaster skin between her russet eyebrows. Gasping, she said, “You’re trying not to smile!”
He clenched his teeth, but he could feel his cheeks jumping.
She pointed at his face. “I can see your mouth quivering.”
He couldn’t contain it anymore. His cheeks ached with the need to grin. And when he did, she returned the smile, her emerald eyes sparkling with her amusement.
“I’m sorry,” he said, schooling his features. “I’ve never had a woman come to my rescue, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see how far you’d go to protect my honor.”
With a smirk pulling at her lips, she said, “I shocked you, didn’t I?”
“Indeed. A rare thing, I assure you.”
She cocked her head, and a wisp of coppery hair slipped from her chignon. He resisted the urge to reach out to see if her tresses were as silky as they looked. He may not be a true gentleman, as Lavinia loved to remind him, but he knew better than to touch a lady without invitation.
Lady Barrows licked her lips. “Tit for tat, I suppose?”
The fact that she knew the term surprised him. “Yes, I suppose so. I’m sorry, Lady Barrows. It’s likely the boxer in me that has to return every blow or maybe it’s the former street urchin in me. You have to find humor in odd things to survive the streets of London.”
“I suppose you do,” she mused. “But I’m the one who should apologize, Mr. Wolverton. I shocked myself by barging in on your private conversation. I was caught on the balcony, when the two of you came in. I would have made my presence known, but when I peered through the doors and realized there was someone in the library besides me, well… That woman was already, um, in a state of dishabille.”
“You mean to say she was undressing,” he teased, enjoying Lady Barrows’s lovely pink cheeks.
She nodded, her blush darkening.
“Were you meeting someone in here?” he asked, intrigued by everything about this woman.
“I was waiting for someone,” she murmured, casting a sideways glance at him from under her lashes, which he would have missed had he not been staring like a transfixed virgin and wondering what other parts of her body were pinked with her blush.
He watched her as she ran a finger along a shelf of books, trying to decide if she had been waiting for a lover, her husband, or a friend. Normally, he could put a woman in a solid category seconds after meeting her, but not Lady Barrows. She was an interesting contradiction of appearance versus action. Her creamy skin made her seem delicate, but she’d confronted Lavinia, proving Lady Barrows was no wilting flower.
Her thick red hair, perfectly in place, made her appear proper, yet he knew her behavior just now would be viewed as improper. He allowed his gaze to wander over her body, since her attention was still on the books. She had voluptuous curves, displayed rather enticingly, which seemed to hint that she was looking to be bedded, but his gut told him no.
As if she sensed he was thinking of her, she turned and their eyes locked. Damn, but her eyes were beautiful―emerald and framed by thick, dark-red lashes. He knew he should look away―staring wasn’t gentlemanly and he needed to be a gentleman―but he couldn’t seem to make himself do what he should. What was it about her eyes? He’d seen plenty of females with lovely eyes in his time. Above him in bed, winking at him, imploring him, but none that held the look in hers. Interest, but not invitation.
His lips parted with his inhalation and filled his mouth with cool air. Most the women of the ton he was acquainted with so far had wanted to bed him, not get to know him. The only exceptions had been the wives of his recently acquired noble friends, Sutherland, Davenport, and Primwitty. Those three women never sent him come-hither looks with their eyes, and he prayed to God they never did. He liked their husbands and didn’t want to have to avoid them because one of their wives wanted to fulfill her fantasies in bed with him.
Lady Barrows moved toward him, reached out as if she were going to touch him then awkwardly let her hand fall to her side. “What that woman said was cruel and untrue. I’m positive any gentleman who cares for his child as you appear to will find a woman who will see his worth.”
“Are you married?” he teased, wanting to see her flush again and enjoying how playing with her seemed to be easing the tension that had been with him all night.
“I’m widowed,” she blurted.
Damn. He quirked his mouth with regret. He shouldn’t have teased her. “I’m sorry. I should not have asked such a personal thing. I’m afraid I lack the manners of the gentlemen of the ton.”
“In my estimation, that’s a good thing,” she replied with a wan smile.
“I think you may be in the minority with that opinion.” In fact, he was changing his life because of the belief. In the last several months, he’d made a move to join Sutherland in his shipping business to gain respectability, which in turn would hopefully make him appear more like a gentleman for his daughter’s sake.
Lady Barrows shrugged, the movement somehow alluring in the way her slender shoulders moved so gracefully. “I think perhaps I’m in the minority on a great many things.”
“Such as?” he said, fascinated with her lack of guile.
She opened her mouth as if to answer, then with a glance around and a lifting of her eyebrows, appeared to realize how openly she was speaking. Her hand fluttered to her hair as she clamped her jaw shut. Round and round her finger she twined a red lock of hair. The innocent gesture heated his blood in a way no purposely-provocative movement ever had. This woman was different from the hard women he had known.
A forced smile came to her face. “Such as the fact that I wish to leave this ball. No doubt, every other person here wants to stay all night long.”
“Not every person,” he said. He wouldn’t be here at all but he’d needed to confront Lavinia to ensure she was still a coldhearted viper before committing to finding a proper mother for Maggie. No concern there. She’d not shed her skin and turned into a creature that would ever care for her daughter.
“Then I suppose we are in the minority together,” Lady Barrows said softly. “I imagine you’d wish to stay if you had stumbled upon better company. First, that cruel woman and now me, who wants nothing more than to leave― I am sorry.”
He almost chuckled. She seemed to be the exact sort of lady he hoped to eventually meet. The kind who would actually care for Maggie, raise her to be a proper lady, and help launch her into Society when the time came. Not that he was going to say any of that. He gazed at her. Her eyes held a faraway, sad look. He didn’t want to pry, but maybe she needed to talk. “Has your husband been gone long?”
“Everyone says so, but to me it seems like yesterday.”
Each word she spoke throbbed with her pain and twisted his gut with sympathy and jealousy. No one had ever loved him in that way, and likely no one ever would. What must it have felt like for that man to know his wife loved him with all her heart? Was she here in the library meeting a lover to help her forget her husband and ease her pain? “I suppose the man you’re waiting for will be here any moment. I’ll depart now so he won’t get the wrong impression.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, her hand fluttering to her long, slender neck. “That’s probably a very good idea. David is rather impetuous. He’d probably get the wrong idea and punch you if he came upon us. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“You’re concerned for my safety?” he asked, astonished. That was another first from a woman, besides his self-adopted mother, Esther. In many ways, Esther had loved him as he thought a good mother might love her child. But there was always a slight wall between them that he suspected Esther had built long ago to not be hurt by anyone ever again. He didn’t begrudge her for the way she was; street life had made her hard out of necessity. He understood that.
Lady Barrows nodded to herself. “David is well known at Gentlemen Jackson’s. Or at least my husband had always said so. I don’t want to be responsible for him hurting you.”
Behind her, a stocky man filled the doorway, a dark frown upon his face. His gaze lingered on Lady Barrows for a moment before piercing Nash with a narrowed look, which turned immediately to surprise.
“You ought to be more concerned about my well being than Mr. Wolverton’s, Julianna.” The man motioned in Nash’s general direction. “He’s a renowned boxer.”
Julianna―because now that Nash knew wha
t she was called he’d never be able to think of her as anything but the name that rolled so pleasurably on his tongue―faced him with another lovely blush. “How silly I must have sounded to you.”
“Not silly at all,” he reassured her, fighting his desire to reach out and stroke a hand over her flaming cheeks. “I appreciated your concern. It was a novel experience, but most welcome.”
Her eyes widened, and she jerked her head in a nod. “Do you box regularly? That seems awfully dangerous what with your, er―” she cast her gaze toward the man in the door then back to Nash “―small responsibilities.”
“I appreciate your worry for my small responsibilities,” he replied, relieved she seemed willing to keep what she’d learned a secret, “but I don’t box for money anymore.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
Her breathless tone of relief made Nash grin, but when he met the hostile glare of the man in the door, he schooled his features for Julianna’s sake. The man did not seem keen on their acquaintance.
“Julianna, how the devil do you know this man?” the gentleman in the doorway snapped, confirming Nash’s suspicion.
Julianna’s cheeks reddened as she looked at Nash. “I’m sorry for my brother-in-law’s rude behavior.”
Before Nash could tell her not to concern herself, the man pointed at Nash and grumbled, “He’s a gaming hell owner.”
She eyed her brother-in-law while her mouth formed a lovely smirk. “And how do you know that, David? Have you visited his establishment, per chance?”
“Absolutely not. That was my brother’s affliction, not mine.”
“What? I don’t believe it!” Julianna exclaimed.
Nash wanted to punch the man―Barrows, he supposed―for throwing out such a careless statement. Julianna obviously had not known her husband had gambled. It couldn’t have been much in his club, though, or Nash would have remembered the name Barrows. He had an excellent memory.
Before Barrows could answer, he was shoved aside by Lady Davenport, who charged into the room. “There you are,” she exclaimed and rushed to Nash, surprising him. “My husband and Mr. Sutherland would like to speak to you about some boring business regarding the contracts for your partnership with Mr. Sutherland.”
After Forever, A Whisper of Scandal Novel Page 2