Julia closed her eyes and smelled the masculinity coming from this man. His arm around her was making her feel so good, his kiss had produced an unfamiliar throbbing in her groin and this new knowledge about her husband was making her want to do something to spite him.
Were these good enough reasons for her next words?
“You have a mistress,” she said against his chest. “At least that is what Geoffrey told me.”
“I do. Why do you ask?”
“Is she exclusive? Would she be heartbroken if you were unfaithful to her?”
He laughed then, but she felt no threat. He was not laughing at her, which is what she feared, but at the notion of Rachel expecting fidelity from him.
“No,” he said. “Rachel does not love me and I do not love her. We suit each other, nothing more.”
“She does not live here?”
He shook his head.
“She did for a time, until her own house was built.” He felt her heart thumping against his chest. “What are you asking me?”
She blushed, her cheeks burning and glowing crimson and she could say nothing for a few moments.
“I want you to show me what it is supposed to be like,” she finally said. “Geoffrey says you have a reputation; he did not say for what, but I have a good idea.”
He smiled and kissed her, then pulled her to her feet and led her from the room and up the wide staircase.
Inside his bedchamber he locked the door and turned to her, held her chin in his fingers and gently guided her face up to look at him.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked. “I do not want to take advantage of you, of your vulnerability and your need of affection.”
“I am sure,” she replied, nodding.
“If we do this, it will lead nowhere; you realise that? I will not change my allegiance and be faithful to you, I will not take you away from your husband and I will not give my heart to you.”
She grinned a little.
“You are very arrogant, Sir, to think I might want all those things.”
He laughed, then unlaced her bodice, removed her clothes and let them fall to the floor. He unfastened his breeches and stood in only his silk shirt, held her close against him and kissed her again as he pushed her onto his bed.
A sudden stab of guilt shot through her. She recalled Geoffrey’s angry face when he ordered her to stay away from this man and she knew she had come here as a gesture of defiance. But it was too late to turn back now, was it not?
She remembered those vows she had made in the small village church, vows of fidelity, vows to remain constant to him.
“This is wrong,” she murmured.
“A woman as lovely as you was made to be loved, not to be an ornament, a token bride for an unnatural man. But the choice is yours. You can stop me any time you wish, but please do not leave it too long.”
As he held her head close to his naked chest, she had a sudden urge to kiss that chest and some demon inside her decided not to fight that urge. He held her close, kissed her neck, her shoulders, trailed his lips down to take her breast into his mouth as his fingers stroked her body.
She found herself longing for each touch, for each kiss; she returned each caress with one of her own and her eyes filled with tears of joy when she felt him inside her, as he clung to her and pulled her so close she thought she might meld with him.
After, he kissed her again before moving away and gathering her into his arms.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you so much.”
“It is I who should thank you. What a pity I did not see you before Winterton claimed you.”
She laughed, for the first time in weeks.
“You are teasing me, My Lord,” she said. “But that is all right. You have given me something today, something I would never have known without you. You have made me feel like a real woman again, and I will be forever grateful.”
***
Julia smiled to herself on her way back to Winterton House, images of the afternoon racing through her memory, the afternoon she had spent in her neighbour’s bed. During the weeks leading up to her marriage, she had been excited and apprehensive at the same time, but she had promised herself she would be a good wife. It seems she had broken that promise already and she felt a little guilty about that, but when she compared her wedding night with this afternoon she thought she could be pardoned. It would not happen again; His Lordship was very tempting, but she could not risk conceiving a child as Geoffrey would know it was not his and she shuddered to think what he would do. Why had she not thought of that before now? It had never crossed her mind, never found a place amid the longing for something which had been denied her.
One day, if it please the Lord, she would be free of Geoffrey and find someone who knew how to treat a woman. She cared nothing for a title or a doorway into society; those were her father’s dreams, not hers. All she wanted was a man who would love her; was that really too much to ask?
When she arrived home, Sir Geoffrey was waiting for her. He never waited for her, never cared enough to wait for her, but this evening he waited in the hall and she knew at once she had been discovered.
“Where have you been?” He demanded.
“Just for a ride.”
“A ride to Summerville Hall,” he answered. “I saw you.”
His jaw was clenched, as were his fists, and she felt suddenly terrified. She turned and began to flee to the door, but he caught up with her in one stride and grabbed her upper arm, pinching viciously into her flesh. He spun her around and slapped her face, hard.
“I told you to keep away from that man!”
Tears clouded her vision, but the need to fight back was overpowering.
“Why?” She said, holding her injured face. “You do not want me, so why should I not seek affection elsewhere?”
“You are my wife. You will obey me. I will not have you sneaking off to that Papist adulterer and making me look a fool.”
She stared at him, her eyes scrutinising his face in the hope of seeing deception, but all she saw was rage.
“Papist?” She repeated.
“Ah, he did not tell you.” He dropped her arm and turned away, went back to the table to finish his meal. “You will remain in the house from now on,” he said. “Until our Christmas festivities at any rate. Do not think to leave; you will look more than a little foolish if the servants have to restrain you.”
“You would lock me in, like a common prisoner?”
“I would.”
She approached the table and stood looking down at him.
“If Lord Summerville is a Catholic and you quite obviously detest him, why do you not report him?”
His eyes narrowed as they met hers.
“You will keep quiet about it,” he said. “If it gets out, there are things about me he knows which I would prefer to keep private.”
“You mean your peculiar tastes, I suppose,” Julia spat at him.
He leapt to his feet, grabbed her arm and twisted it painfully.
“I knew he would tell you,” he said. “You will keep quiet about that too, or you may learn whether purgatory exists sooner than you expected.”
***
Bethany arrived in their father’s carriage, beautifully dressed in the most expensive fabric a merchant’s daughter was allowed. It was an odd thing that he had made a fortune dealing in the cloth which his class was forbidden to wear. Her dark hair shone in the afternoon sunlight; Julia had often wondered why her sister’s hair was so dark, whilst her own was very fair, almost white. Perhaps it was a throwback from her ancient origins, but it was merely a passing thought.
Julia ran out to meet her as the carriage drew to a halt. She was truly delighted to see her, to have someone who cared for her welfare and her happiness in the house and to have someone to talk to. She had been shut up in this house since her visit to her neighbour, but Geoffrey would not do that with her sister here. What would the gossips say?
>
“Welcome,” she said, taking her hands as she stepped down. “Did you have a good journey?”
Bethany gave her a dazzling smile, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement.
“It was comfortable,” she replied. “But far too long. Why did you have to move so far away from me?”
“You talk as though I had an opinion in the matter.”
Bethany pulled her close and hugged her.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I was not thinking. I wish you had fought harder though. I intend to.”
“What good will that do? You have to marry someone; Father will accept no man who will not aid him up the social ladder.”
“We shall see. You are looking very pale, Julia, even more than usual. Are you quite well?”
Julia nodded. She knew why she was looking pale, she knew why she was sick most mornings and she knew that as soon as this visit was over, she would have to confess to her lover that she was carrying his child. She could not pass it off as Geoffrey’s, could she?
Since their afternoon together, Julia had discovered that His Lordship had more mistresses than Rachel. Perhaps he could be persuaded to add her to them, find her somewhere safe to live with her child. Or perhaps he would support her for no return, considering the child was his. She did not know him well enough to know how he would react. She had been interested in his skills in the bedchamber, not his character.
Bethany was chattering away and Julia forced her attention back to her. The visit would be over in but a few weeks, then she could make plans.
“Do you have many guests coming, my dear?” She was saying. “Are there lots of titled gentlemen for father to feel pleased about?”
“A few,” Julia replied, but her thoughts were on the list of guests her husband had given her with instructions of who to invite and when.
“The Earl of Summerville?” She had seen his name at the bottom of the list, to be invited for twelfth night.
“Yes,” Geoffrey replied. “Unfortunately, he owns half the county; it would be socially unacceptable not to invite him. I invite him every year, but he never comes. It is merely a formality, so you need have no fear his presence will embarrass you.”
She had been relieved to know he was unlikely to show himself, but so far there had been no reply from him.
“Well?” Bethany prompted her. “Are there many impoverished noblemen for me to choose from?”
“Some,” came the voice of Sir Geoffrey, who had stepped up behind his wife and now gently rested his hand on her shoulder. So the façade had begun already, Julia thought. Bethany curtsied.
“Sir Geoffrey.”
Once inside the house, refreshments were ordered for their guest and Geoffrey excused himself.
“I expect you have much to talk to your sister about,” he commented as he kissed Julia’s cheek. She flinched; she could not help it and she was sure Bethany noticed.
Bethany reached across the table and took her sister’s hand.
“You do not seem happy, my dear,” she said soothingly.
“Happiness was not something I expected.”
“But you should,” Bethany replied heatedly. “You are entitled to be happy. Why should we be pawns in Father’s game?”
“It was that or be turned out to starve,” Julia replied. “The deed is done now. I can only hope for better things for my little sister.”
CHAPTER THREE
Julia’s heart bounced in her chest when she saw him enter the great hall. Her glance moved to Geoffrey where he sat at the table with some guests and she saw his angry scowl when the steward announced ‘His Lordship, The Earl of Summerville’.
“What is he doing here?” She muttered.
“Was he not invited?” Bethany asked excitedly.
“Oh yes,” she answered as she walked hurriedly toward the new guest. “He is our nearest and most important neighbour. He has to be invited, but he never comes; never.”
She did not hear her sister’s reply but a quick glance told her Geoffrey was watching her, studying her every move.
She had not been able to leave the house without Bethany and before her arrival, had been confined like a prisoner. It was degrading to be so treated before the servants, but she supposed she deserved it.
No opportunity had presented itself for her to visit her neighbour and tell him of her condition, beg him for his help. Now she found herself close to him, she could not speak for fear of being overheard.
“My Lord,” she whispered urgently. “Why are you here?”
“You invited me.”
“I have to speak to you. It is very important.”
His eyes moved past her as though his attention had been drawn away and she turned to see her sister standing behind her. Damn! Just as she had got his attention. She could do nothing but present Bethany to him and hope for another opportunity to speak with him in private.
The remainder of that evening was for Julia nerve racking as she watched the Earl employ his considerable charm on her sister. She wondered what they could possibly have to talk about, coming from such totally different worlds as they did, and her own encounter with him consisted of little conversation. She felt suddenly ashamed of that; she knew nothing about this man, nothing at all. According to Geoffrey, he was a Papist and she was a married woman. Yet she had spent an afternoon in his bed and enjoyed every minute.
Recalling that afternoon, she felt a sudden flash of concern about Bethany. She had to find a moment to warn her, before she fell under his spell. He seemed like a caring man, one who would do nothing dishonourable, yet he had bedded his neighbour’s wife without hesitation. But she had asked him to, had she not? Could he be trusted with a virgin? Would he hesitate to take that jewel from her then leave her to return to her life as it was? Julia had no idea. She would have refused to consider it had Geoffrey not told her of his religious leanings. As far as Julia was concerned, there could be no greater evil. Papists had no morals, no principles and she felt more ashamed of what she had done with one of them than she had ever felt when he was merely her wealthy neighbour.
***
Little progress was made with the business of finding a husband for Bethany. Geoffrey seemed to think it highly amusing, whilst Julia just wanted to put her into the carriage and send her back to London so she could sneak out and talk to Lord Summerville. He would help her. Surely being a Papist would not prevent that, would it? Since she had learned of that she was not nearly so confident of his support, but it would be his child; surely he would want to support his own child, especially as he had no others. At least as far as she knew he had no others, but her own predicament assured her it was a possibility not to be ignored.
Her mind was full of ideas about how he would react, what his solution would be. Would he find her somewhere to live, away from here? She was sure he must have other houses, being as he was obviously wealthy. Titled people of wealth always had many estates and houses all over the country. He had said he would not take her away from her husband, she remembered that, but surely if she were in danger he would change his mind. If his child were in danger he would want to help, surely.
Would he be angry? He had no right to be angry, did he? Oh, why did time not hurry? She could bear this uncertainly no more.
She had been sick again that morning and this time Geoffrey had noticed. How galling that she could dress as provocatively as she could, brush her pale hair until it was as soft as silk and shone in the sunlight, yet he never noticed at all. But he had proved himself no fool; he may have no interest in women, but he was apparently aware of how their bodies functioned.
He was waiting for her when she came back inside the house.
“What ails you, My Lady?” He asked.
Could he be persuaded the child was his? She wondered. He did come to her bed on their wedding night and perhaps the tale was wrong that a virgin could not conceive the first time. Or perhaps, if he believed the tale, he would accuse her of not being a maid. She knew he could
be vicious and she had to ask herself how far that trait would go. But it was three months into her marriage before this child was conceived; there was no hope of persuading her husband it was his progeny.
“Well?” He persisted.
“I have eaten of too much rich food, Sir,” she replied at last. “Nothing more. I will be better when we return to normal meals.”
She watched him go out then turned to where Bethany was just descending the staircase. She would be on her way home today, leaving Julia free to see Richard and seek his support. Her sister’s greeting as she reached the bottom of the stairs crumbled her plans to dust, made her feel she was drowning and could not quite reach the surface and safety.
“What do you mean, he has offered you marriage?” She demanded.
“Just as I say. Lord Summerville has made me an offer of marriage and I am going to Summerville Hall now to accept him.”
Panic clutched at Julia’s heart and squeezed painfully and she felt her eyes widen, felt the colour drain from her face. What would she do if Bethany married the father of her child? He was her only hope, her one salvation. She could not marry him! She simply could not!
“You cannot marry him!”
“Why not?”
Julia could not answer that. All her hopes of gaining his help, of seeking his support drained away from her. She had to persuade her sister to refuse him; it would be too dishonourable to take her sister’s husband as her protector, possibly as her lover.
“He will never be faithful to you.”
“I know that. I care nothing for him, so what is that to me?” Bethany held her hands, tried to pull her toward her but she stood fast. “How can I refuse him? He offers so much.”
“He is a Papist!” Julia spat. “Did he tell you that?”
“He did.”
Something in Julia’s heart turned to stone. She hated the Catholic Church, she wanted them all dead for the torture and barbarism they had inflicted in the past. They held the souls of men and women hostage with their superstitious nonsense, with their arrogant assumption that they could control the afterlife, that they could charge money for a swift passage through a fictitious place they called purgatory.
HOLY POISON: Boxed Set: The Complete Series 1-6 Page 66