Love and Adventure Collection - Part 1 (Love and Adventure Boxed Sets)

by Jennifer Blake

  She picked up the silver teapot and looked inquiringly at his cup. He held it out to her, and she filled it before pouring her own half full. Setting down the pot, she leaned back with her cup in her hand. The room had grown comfortably warm. The hiss of the fire was loud, though it had burned away to no more than a bed of glowing embers. Warily, Julia recognized a sense of intimacy growing between herself and the man across the table as the rain continued its gentle music and the night drew in. An unrelieved black shrouded the window now, and shadows hung in the corners of the room. The canopied bed loomed large as the candles on the table shrank into their sockets.

  Slanting a glance at Rud once more, she discovered him staring at her in brooding seriousness as he swirled the tea in his cup.

  “Have — have you spoken to your uncle about the ship?” she asked. It was difficult to force the words past her stiff throat, but she had to do something to return their relationship to its proper footing.

  “An East Indiaman, the David, is due in port in a couple of weeks. There is a chance that she can be routed to St. Helena. She has made the run before.”

  “Your uncle did not find your interest in the ships of the East India Company unusual?”

  “Possibly, but I suspect he credited it to my increased responsibilities as a family man.”

  An ironic smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. Julia saw nothing amusing. “How will you explain your sudden desire to leave the Sea Jade and sail in the David when the time comes?”

  “I’m not certain,” he answered. “What if I say it is a whim of my lady wife’s?”

  “I hardly think your uncle can be expected to believe that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It must be obvious,” she said tartly, unable to put her meaning into words.

  “Not to me. You are a beautiful woman. I must have been besotted with you, must I not? Or, I would not have married you out of hand the instant my ship touched shore. You may think my uncle and aunt have seen little sign of affection between us. That, my dear Julia, can be easily mended.”

  There was a devilish gleam in his eyes she could not like. She had the distinct feeling that she was being baited. Her best course, it seemed, would be to refuse the challenge. “Surely, there is some other excuse you could use — business in Rio de Janeiro, for instance?”

  “A possibility, though the question arises as to why I did not travel there in the Sea Jade. Since we are to meet my ship there, we can still say you preferred to travel out in the larger, more comfortable ship, and like a doting husband, I decided to indulge you.”

  “Besotted and doting,” she said, falling in with his mood of cynical amusement. “I wish I may live to see it!”

  Tilting his head to one side, he inquired, “Do you indeed?”

  She would not be drawn. “Oh, very well, make me the villainess of the piece. I suppose if you can bring yourself to appear in such a ridiculous light, I can bear to play the spoiled and pampered bride.”

  “I trust it may not be too much of a hardship,” he said, though the smile he gave her sent alarm scurrying along her veins.

  Their meal finished, Rud rang for a footman to clear away the remains. When the door had closed behind the silent-footed servant, he stepped to the fireplace, turning his back to the coals.

  “Shall we order the fire replenished, or would you prefer an early night?” he asked.

  “As you wish,” she replied, “though I suggest you make some kind of arrangement for a bed for yourself first.” She had been waiting some time for the right moment to make this suggestion. It was a relief to have it finally arrive.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you trying to tell me you are a restless sleeper? Or, that you snore? Never mind, I’m sure there will be compensation enough in sharing a bed with you to make up for any little peculiarity.”

  “You know very well that was not what I meant,” she said in frustration. He was so certain of himself that it was maddening.

  “You found this ancient bed too uncomfortable to be borne, then? It’s good of you to want to spare me the discomfort, but I assure you I am used to it, and besides, I would not for anything distress my aunt by refusing to occupy it. She actually thinks she is honoring us by allowing us the use of it. Good Queen Bess slept in it, you know.”

  Goaded by embarrassment as well as exasperation, Julia said roundly, “I don’t care who slept in it, I don’t intend to sleep in it with you!”

  “No?” he inquired, shedding his air of banter like the dropping of a cloak.

  “No!”

  “Can it be,” he asked in that same soft, slow tone, “that you are afraid of me?”

  She realized suddenly that as annoying as his teasing had been, it was infinitely preferable to this direct attack. His deep-blue eyes held steady on hers, demanding an answer. Pride and the strength of her spirit would allow only one. “No,” she said.

  The briefest hint of satisfaction flitted across his face and was gone. “I thought not.”

  “I’m not afraid of you, but I don’t trust you either.”

  He stared down at her, his gaze moving over the determined tilt of her chin, the firm corners of her tender mouth. His voice was abrupt as he said, “You stand in no danger of rape from me.”

  This was plain speaking. If that was what he wanted, he could certainly have it. “My relief would be greater if it were not for what took place this afternoon.”

  “You have a point,” he conceded after a moment, “though I think something must be allowed for provocation.”

  “Provocation! I deny any such thing!”

  “Perhaps, it was not deliberate.”

  “How kind of you to say so,” she flared. “I refuse to be held in any way accountable for your reactions!”

  “No,” he agreed unexpectedly. “What troubles me is whether you can be held accountable for your own.”

  His meaning escaped her. Did he refer to her instinctive repugnance for being close to a man, her horror at being overpowered? Or, was he harking back to the night before, after he had returned her to the ship, when, he had hinted, her response to him had been quite different?

  “I don’t understand you,” she said at last.

  “Probably just as well,” he said, smiling with a wry twist of the lips that suggested the humor was directed at himself. “The problem that concerns us at the moment is where we are going to sleep. If you are not afraid of me, and if you accept my given word that I will not force myself upon you, why can we not both be comfortable in yonder bed?”

  “I could never sleep.”

  “You are more likely to find sleep there than on any other bed or pallet you may improvise. Oh, yes, you heard me right. Since I have no objection to sharing the bed with you, I think you must be the one to seek another arrangement. Unless you want to cast suspicion on our marriage and the reasons for it, I would not call a maid or a footman for help, however. My aunt would certainly learn of it, and she is a curious woman. The less attention paid to the circumstances of the voyage from New Orleans the better, don’t you think? There may be an extra blanket you can use, if you are determined to be a martyr.”

  Julia bit her lip. Was it possible that questions concerning their marriage might lead to the uncovering of the purpose of the expedition? She had not considered it in that light.

  Rud, with a fine show of unconcern for whatever decision she might reach, stretched, smothering a yawn with his fist. Shoving one hand into the pocket of his dressing gown, he strolled to the bed and whipped back the covers. Beneath the goose-down comforter was a soft, lightweight blanket. He tugged this free and held it out to her, a quizzical look in his eyes.

  Julia stood up, taking the step which would allow her to accept the blanket. In the small sitting room was a settee she could use, though with the falling rain that room was chilly and damp. An armchair by the fireplace might be best. She had been looking forward with such longing to a night’s sleep in the soft width of a bed instead of narrow s
hip’s bunk-well it could not be helped.

  It might be something less than gentlemanly of Rud to appropriate the bed; still, as he pointed out, it had not been his decision that she leave it. While she could admit the justice of this, that did not make it any easier to accept. Turning her back on him, she shook the blanket out with a vicious flap and swung it about her shoulders. She pushed the armchair nearer to the remaining warmth and sat down, drawing her feet up under her.

  Though she kept her back firmly turned, she knew when Rud extinguished the candles, threw aside his dressing gown, and slid into the bed. It took a moment for her to realize that he had dispensed with the nightshirt worn by most men. It was nothing to her, of course. It served mainly to remind her that she had never had the opportunity to don her own nightgown. The extra thickness would have been appreciated.

  Trying not to make noise, she drew the blanket closer about her throat and tucked the extra length in around her knees. It would have been a help if the chair had been larger. If she felt wedged in after only a few minutes, what would it be like after an entire night?

  The rain died away, leaving a deep stillness to settle over the house. Occasionally, footsteps passed outside the door, muffled by the hall carpet, but these too ceased at last. The coals died away to black ash. Each shift of position brought a draft of cool air sifting through her blanket. Once she dozed, only to be awakened by a cramp in the calf of her leg. To ease it, she had to stretch her legs out straight. Her tiredness was so overwhelming, her need for rest so great, that she closed her eyes while sitting bolt upright and was instantly asleep. When she slipped sideways and grazed her head on the carved wood which outlined the back of the chair, she made a small sound of pain, but did not open her eyes.

  The feel of swinging movement invaded her dreams. For a moment, she was back aboard the Sea Jade in her bunk, though there seemed to be a band of iron constricting her shoulders and her knees. Then, she felt the yielding softness of a bed beneath her, and the cold rush of night air as her dressing gown was deftly drawn open.

  She came up from the bed with a rush, lunging away from the dark form she sensed rather than saw beside her. Her arms were still entangled in her robe, but she slipped free after an instant’s struggle and rolled, scrambling for the far side of the bed.

  The bed jounced heavily on its springs as Rud dove across it, pinning her to the mattress. “Be still, dammit!” he said through his teeth.

  She lashed out at him, catching him a sharp blow across the bridge of his nose. He swore again, and shifted his weight, so that he lay along the length of her body. Warding off another blow, he grabbed her wrists, dragging them down until they were crossed over each other between her breasts. Panting, she strained away from him, suffocatingly aware of the hard rasp of his bare thigh against hers and the pressure of his chest against her breasts.

  His chest expanded as he took a deep, steadying breath. “Lie still,” he said, his warm breath fanning her cheek. “I only wanted to make your rest easier. Your hands and feet are like ice, and it would be ridiculous for you to freeze to death when I am here to warm you. Besides, all that twisting and turning was keeping me awake.”

  It was the touch of exasperation in his voice which reached her. Slowly, the tension left her muscles and she subsided. His grip grew less painful on her wrists, and bit by bit, he eased his weight from her. When he was certain she was not going to make any violent moves, he released her and reached for the sheet and coverlet, drawing them up over her. She flinched a little as his arm encircled her waist once more beneath the bed coverings, but he only drew her closer against him.

  The heat of his body touched her like a caress, its intensity a gauge of how chilled she had become. She lay still, staring wide-eyed in the dark as an unwilling gratitude washed over her. Not the least of what she was grateful for was the way that his breathing slowed, then fell into a regular cadence. For all the difference her naked form beside him made, she might have been a child in need of comforting. It was this which allowed her to let fall her eyelids and accept the surcease of sleep.

  Julia descended the stairs with Aunt Lucinda beside her. The older woman held a beaded reticule under one arm and a sunshade under the other while she smoothed gloves of celestial blue kid over her hands.

  “Mark my words, there will be a change in the shape of women in the next few months, and I for one will greet it with joy. Do you realize it has been nearly thirty years since women have shown a normal waistline? At least in public, my dear!” Rud’s aunt gave a light laugh, then continued. “The classical style is marvelously flattering to a pretty bosom, and a great convenience for women who are increasing, but since I have never been able to congratulate myself on either I am no devotee!”

  The more Julia saw of Lucinda Baxter the more she liked her. Rud’s aunt was completely unpretentious, and she possessed a droll wit that made it impossible not to laugh with her. Julia was quite looking forward to their shopping expedition this morning.

  The opening of the outside door as they neared the foot of the stairs drew her attention. Though the bell had not rung, the butler had hastened to admit the master of the house and Rud. Dressed in riding clothes, they brought with them the fresh smell of the spring morning.

  “There you are,” Aunt Lucinda greeted them. “When they told me you two had already breakfasted and gone out, I could not believe it. I take it the weather has cleared?”

  “A beautiful morning, warming to admiration,” her husband declared, saluting the cheek she offered.

  As if reminded of his role of doting bridegroom, Rud took Julia’s hand and drew her to him. His eyes holding a look that was both a reminder and a warning, he lowered his lips to hers. The pressure was firm, but brief. Why Julia should be so affected by it she could not tell, except that it seemed to set a seal on their marriage, making it more real. It also brought to mind their closeness the night before, something she had tried to forget. That had not been too difficult. She had awakened in the bright light of morning to find herself alone in the Elizabethan bed. Rud had already dressed and gone.

  Aunt Lucinda surveyed Julia’s heightened color with fond amusement. “Charming,” she said. “Now, perhaps you could say a few words, my dear nephew, to convince Julia that she need not be too cheese-paring with her purchases this morning. I have had a terrible time convincing her, despite your inheritance from your Grandfather Baxter and the extent of the fortune you had from your American father, that you are not a pauper.”

  Rud’s displeasure was evident in the frown which drew his brows together. “Have you?” he inquired.

  “You need not take that tone with me, my dear Rud,” his aunt informed him. “I have no patience with men who keep their wives in the dark on financial matters. They have only themselves to blame if they discover they are wedded to dowds or else paragons of extravagance.”

  “And, I take it you are afraid Julia will fall into the first category?”

  “Hardly,” his aunt told him, her voice tart. “However, you must admit it is bad enough for her to have to go into black the day after becoming a bride, without having to settle for mourning wear less becoming than it could be!”

  “I would rather she did not wear black at all. I suppose that is too much to ask?”

  “Of course it is,” his aunt answered for Julia. “It would look odd indeed if she did not wear mourning for her father.”

  “Then, you leave me nothing to say except buy what you will, my darling wife, and have the accounting sent to me.”

  “Very handsome,” Aunt Lucinda applauded.

  “Thank you,” Julia said, since from the other woman’s glance in her direction, it appeared some comment was required.

  “You needn’t expect me to echo the sentiment,” Uncle Thaddeus said in a jovial manner. “You know to the last penny how much I am worth, and I will expect you to keep it in mind.”

  “So I shall, to the last penny.” Aunt Lucinda laughed, and pulling the strings of her r
eticule over her wrist, she swished out the door. Julia would have followed close behind had Rud not detained her with a hand on her arm. He tilted her chin with one finger and brushed a kiss across her lips. That vibrant touch, and the strange, slow smile which went with it, lay disturbingly in her memory long after the black-and-silver carriage that awaited them had pulled away from the mansion.

  Why had she been misled about his fortune? Why had they all been misled, if it came to that? Rud had given the impression of a man with a need for money at that first meeting at her father’s house in New Orleans. The money, he had said, was his sole reason for his part in the mission. Had he meant only to ensure that he would be compensated for his expenses? Or, had he deliberately set out to portray himself as an adventurer, an opportunist interested only in what he stood to gain? Why would he do that? It certainly could not make him more acceptable to the Bonapartists of New Orleans. Or, could it? Might a hard-bitten adventurer whose main loyalty was to gold be a better choice as a conspirator than an Englishman who, despite his American father, had lately been a soldier of his majesty the king, fighting Bonaparte on the soil of Belgium?

  A feeling of sickness moved over her, and she clenched her hands together in her lap until it passed. No, it was impossible. Her father could not have made such a mistake. Besides, General Montignac and her father had acted on instructions from the emperor himself, received only days before the meeting. An English spy’s arrival in New Orleans at the proper time would mean that Napoleon’s correspondence was being intercepted at some point before it was smuggled off St. Helena. That the emperor would allow such a state of affairs she could not credit.