Garden of Shadows (Dark Gardens Series Book 1)

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Garden of Shadows (Dark Gardens Series Book 1) Page 12

by Meara Platt


  She arched against him, her skin so soft and warm, her body stirring back to life.

  “Julia,” he said with an ache that ripped from his throat.

  He moved his hands up and down her body, lifting her by the waist and easing her onto her back. His hand slid under her gown and between her thighs. He stroked with his finger, felt her liquid warmth and wished it was his hot, hard member thrusting inside her. But he’d taken more liberties than he ever imagined possible with the girl and had to be satisfied with pleasuring her, with feeling the pride of conquest as he felt her sweet body’s explosive response to his touch.

  Her passion was pure and exquisite. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” she whispered, allowing the molten waves of desire to wash over her soft, sleek body.

  And he didn’t.

  She’d craved heat.

  He gave her that and more.

  And as she descended from her rapture, there was a tender gleam in her eye, a wonderment, a look that thanked him for saving her life. Something strong and deep awoke within his heart. His own wonderment. He’d pleasured her, but what he got back was something far more splendid. A purpose to his own empty life.

  Chapter 10

  Julia touched a hand to her tingling lips, savoring the embers of Lord Eastbourne’s desire. She safely locked away the memory of his touch, the lingering trace of sandalwood on the curve of his neck, the warm strength of his hands as they caressed her body. She wanted to cry, but emitted a light, nervous laugh instead, for what could she say to the man who’d just saved her from a menacing faerie?

  He responded with a raw, throaty growl. “Julia, forgive me if I touched you… damn, I touched you everywhere… I didn’t know what else to do.” He kissed her softly on the lips once more. “I had to save you, make you feel sensations you’d never felt before.”

  Heat crept up her cheeks. “Yes, quite extraordinary.”

  He rocked back on his heels and regarded her. “Let me see your arms.”

  She held them out for his inspection.

  “Soft, pink.” He nodded to signal his approval. “No sign of those horrid spider webs inside your skin. Now, let me see your legs.”

  She lifted her gown and extended them without shock or hesitation, for what had just happened between them went beyond anything she’d ever dreamed to share with a man. Goodness, the things he’d done to her! She suppressed a tingle as he cupped first one leg in his warm palm, then the other, and sat quietly while enjoying the sensation of his fingers slowly working their way upward from her toes to her knees.

  He was methodical and, suddenly, appeared concerned. “Is something wrong, my lord?”

  “No, just perfect.” He cleared his throat, scooped her into his arms and placed her back in bed. He seemed even more unsettled than she was after their exchange of passion, no doubt because he never would have touched her if the circumstances hadn’t been dire. She was too sensible to believe that he liked her. Goodness, he still didn’t trust her and she doubted they’d ever truly be friends.

  Julia watched him as he quietly moved to the hearth and rested one muscled shoulder against the mantel, his back to her as he studied the fire’s intense flames. He had a nice back, strong and broad. She’d run her hands beneath his shirt to seek the warmth of his skin. He was muscled and hard and his skin had actually been hot to her touch. Hot and damp and felt so good.

  Too bad he could never love her, nor could she blame him. The sight of her body turning blue and her blood turning to ice before his very eyes must have shocked him. He’d turned away because he didn’t wish to reveal just how strange this night had been for him, as well.

  What he was thinking now?

  Her own thoughts were in a muddle. She’d hated the Eastbournes for so long for what they’d done to Charlie. But how could she hate the earl after he’d just saved her life?

  Indeed, he had saved her life tonight. In a most unusual way. She doubted anyone else could have accomplished it. Her instincts warned her not to like this man, though she was undeniably attracted to him. There was something comforting about him, in the protective way he wrapped his strong arms around her and, surprisingly, in the way their bodies seemed to fit perfectly against each other. Her soft curves seemed to blend with his hard contours. Liking him, wanting him to hold her and touch her, wanting him to kiss her, was dangerous.

  Lord Eastbourne returned to her side and settled into the chair he’d earlier placed beside her bed. His hair was slightly ruffled and he appeared tired, yet Julia thought he looked magnificent.

  “How is Charlie?” she asked, realizing the earl had earlier gone downstairs to look in on him and had yet to give her a report.

  “Sleeping as peacefully as an angel and utterly oblivious to Homer’s grunts and snores.”

  Julia smiled.

  “There’s my girl. Glad to have you back.”

  “Glad to be back,” she said with a shaky laugh, quite aware of how close she’d come to whatever form of existence one could possibly have without a heart or soul. “From now on I think I shall call you Lord Gallant, for your timely action saved me from the deadly poison of King Cadeyrn’s kiss.”

  “Gallant?” He cast her a deeply revealing glance into the pain he’d carried in his own heart for many years. “Don’t ever mistake me for that, Julia. No, don’t ever let down your guard around me. I’m not who you think I am.”

  She frowned, knowing exactly who he was and still, she craved his touch. That was her problem, not his. “My lord, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “No matter,” he said, glancing away. “Nor do I.”

  In that moment, Julia felt as though she, Charlie, and Lord Eastbourne were kindred spirits. Despite Lord Eastbourne’s elevated rank, at heart he held the same yearnings and desires as she and Charlie held. A desire for love and family, a desire to contribute, to be a vital part of a loving family.

  If she and Lord Eastbourne ever resolved their differences, somehow managed to work together as they had tonight, in a platonic way, of course, the two of them could make a home for Charlie. Oh, she knew he would never marry her, but would it be so awful for the three of them to reside at Eastbourne, share meals and celebrate holidays, settle into a comfortable routine to provide a nurturing home and security for Charlie during his life?

  They couldn’t protect the boy from King Cadeyrn with anything less, for the faerie king tempted the boy with the promise of making Charlie his own son, a prince in his faerie kingdom. How odd that a creature with no heart or soul should understand so well the boy’s need for a loving mother and father.

  “Give me your hand, Julia,” Lord Eastbourne said, distracting her from her thoughts. “I fully intend to hold on to you for the remainder of this night.” There was something in his lopsided grin that reminded her so much of Charlie. “The lad will be quite put out if I lose you.” There was a tender edge to his voice as he added, “and I think, so will I.”

  Tonight, Julia decided, she would dream of Lord Eastbourne.

  *

  “Something has changed in you, Lord Eastbourne,” Julia said, gazing at him softly as they resumed their discussion into the wee hours of the morning because he still wasn’t going to let her fall asleep. He was tense and on alert. He was also determined to take her and Charlie away from the vicarage at first light. He disliked the thought of waiting even another moment, but he knew it wasn’t safe to make their way down the hillside in the dark. So he kept her talking to distract her not only from those creatures – and Lord help him, he did believe they existed – but also from the way he’d saved her.

  “I think you’re rather enjoying your moment of chivalry, my lord.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call what I did chivalrous. If anyone finds out how I… er, that we… hell. You’d be ruined.”

  “Will you tell?”

  He frowned. “Never. You may not think so, but I’m a gentleman. I won’t dishonor you.”

  “I believ
e you. I think in saving me, you’ve reclaimed a lost part of yourself and you like this newly discovered part of yourself. It shows in your face.”

  “I did what any sensible man would do,” he said, leaning forward because he liked being near her, even though he’d done a good job of convincing himself that he had to stay close for the girl’s own safety and no other reason. “I kissed a pretty girl and kept kissing her until she asked me to stop.”

  Julia nibbled the corner of her mouth. “I don’t recall asking you to stop.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sure you did.”

  There was very little other than Julia’s robe and sheer nightgown between her and his dangerously pent up desire. The problem was, he had to keep his distance from her until he was certain of her true nature. She seemed so refreshingly honest and loving. But how could he know for certain? Until today, he’d believed she was a liar and an extortionist.

  He didn’t quite know what to make of her. Compassion was a precious commodity rarely found among the jaded young ladies who filled the elegant London ballrooms each year on the hunt for wealthy husbands. He reclaimed Julia’s hand, allowing his thumb to absently graze the wool cuff of her robe as he made small circles along her palm. Her skin felt soft as silk. “What else shall we talk about?”

  “Other than your chivalry?”

  “Yes, anything but that.” Douglas leaned back in his chair and studied Julia.

  She had the look of a faerie princess. He’d thought so from the start. She had deep violet eyes, flowing gold curls, and a slender body. When she walked, she did so with a light, dancing step. But her mind was firmly planted in the real world, for she had common sense and a practical nature, too practical for a pretty girl with so much suppressed passion.

  Tonight, he’d brought that passion bubbling to the surface, touching and teasing until her body erupted in wave after wave of explosive desire. Lord! Yet, to describe what he’d sought from Julia as merely physical would not be accurate.

  “Lord Eastbourne,” she said, her hair loose and wild as she bent toward him, slowly shaking her head. Douglas noticed the dark shadows still haunting her eyes, and tried hard not to notice the light swell of her breasts as her robe slipped off one creamy shoulder and began to slide languidly down her arm.

  She casually drew it back over her shoulder, but not before the damage to his composure had been done. The memory of Julia lying beneath him, her eyes closed and lips softly parted, gracefully lifting her arms and arching her back, inviting him to savor the rose-tinged nipples and generous breasts, was something seared into his heart forever.

  “Lord Eastbourne,” she repeated, lost in thought and once again nibbling her lip, unaware that his gaze was taking in more than her lightly swollen lips. “Something has been nagging at me, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

  “Go on, Julia,” he urged.

  She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly and nodded. “King Cadeyrn told me of his plans to take Charlie from us, to elevate him to faerie prince, to allow him to walk again and even to fly. He spoke of making Charlie his son, of giving him a home and family.” A tear rolled down her cheek. Warm, Douglas noted with relief as he ran his thumb along her cheek to wipe it away. “But he’ll never make Charlie happy. You see, he doesn’t know what love is.”

  “Few of us do,” Douglas muttered.

  “You must understand about love,” she insisted. “You couldn’t have saved me otherwise.”

  “Julia, there you go again, imputing noble motives to my actions.” He shook his head and frowned. “Don’t.”

  “I know this will sound mad to you.” She paused and then laughed mirthlessly. “But as I spoke to King Cadeyrn, even as he held me in a death grip, I sensed desperation in his purpose. Why is he so determined to possess Charlie?”

  Douglas said nothing, watching as she considered the answer to her own question.

  “The faerie kingdom is a magical place,” she started slowly, “where all appears beautiful on the surface. But that’s all it is, a shallow pleasure. There’s something terribly wrong deep down. The cracks are beginning to show. Even Charlie noticed them, for his drawings have grown darker, a reflection of the coldness enveloping the faerie world. A shattered world of frozen dreams and lost hope. The music, the merriment, and warmth are all a façade, I think. If Cadeyrn steals Charlie from us, he’ll condemn the poor boy to a life of misery.”

  Julia had said “us”, Douglas noted with some surprise. “I suppose we are in this fight together, trying to save Charlie from whatever evil the faerie king intends.”

  She tightened her hands into fists. “We must look at Charlie’s drawings and really study all of them, even those of fire-breathing dragons. They’re a clue to all that’s happening in the faerie world. And question Charlie. I should never have dismissed his stories as nonsense.” She pursed her lips and frowned. “Something else has been bothering me. Cadeyrn almost killed me with his kiss, but what if making his leap into our mortal world also drained him of his powers?” She looked up suddenly, her eyes wide and glistening. “Of course!”

  “Julia, what are you doing? You mustn’t climb out of bed.”

  She tossed aside the covers. “Don’t you see? If the Fae king was weakened by our encounter, then was Charlie strengthened? This is our chance to find out if Charlie can walk. Oh, how stupid of me! I should have thought of it sooner.”

  Douglas placed his hands on her shoulders to hold her back. “Julia, this is madness.”

  “We’ll never know if we stand here glowering at each other.”

  “Very well, put on your slippers. Here, wrap this shawl about your shoulders and take my hand. Can’t have you falling down the stairs.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll run headlong into danger to protect Charlie.”

  “So will you,” Julia accused.

  The realization that he would do just that to save his nephew struck Douglas with the force of a thunderbolt. It felt good to care, to value someone above his own life.

  “I’ll go in first,” Douglas said when they reached Charlie’s door.

  “We’ll go in together,” Julia insisted.

  “Lord, you’re a bossy bit of goods.” But he agreed and tightened his grip on her hand. Whatever existed behind Charlie’s door, if anything other than a Bow Street runner and contentedly sleeping child were to be found behind it, he intended to protect Julia and Charlie from that looming danger.

  “Open it,” she whispered.

  He turned the knob and flinched as the door groaned open. Moonbeams bathed the room in a silvery light. Douglas sucked in his breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Julia tried to peer over his shoulder.

  “Charlie’s gone.”

  Chapter 11

  “Damn it, Julia. Where can the boy be?” Lord Eastbourne ran a hand through his hair in obvious frustration.

  Julia was about to tell him that she didn’t know, when she suddenly caught sight of Charlie’s latest drawing. She grabbed it off the boy’s desk and held it up to the moonlight. “Look at this! It’s the Fae king and Charlie. Oh, sweet mercy! The bell tower! He’s taken Charlie there to push him off it!”

  “Wait here. I’ll go after him.” He started for the kitchen door.

  “No! I’m going, too.”

  “Damn it, Julia! Stay here. Wake Homer. I think he’s been drugged.” He glanced at Homer’s large, snoring form, then at her again. “You’re hurt. I can’t worry about the both of you. You’re not even properly dressed.”

  He took off at a run toward St. Lodore’s Church. She heard the door slam behind him with a sharp bang. Julia had no intention of being left behind, but what if Lord Eastbourne was right? She gave Homer a rough shake. He let out a snort, but wouldn’t wake up. She caught the scent of honeyed wine on his breath. “You were drugged,” she muttered and shook him again more forcefully. “Mr. Barrow! Homer! Wake up! We need you.” With complete lack of delica
cy, she reached for the ewer on Charlie’s night stand and dumped cold water over Homer’s head.

  He let out a cry, spraying the room with water as he jerked awake. “Bollocks, lass! What did ye do that for?”

  “Thank goodness you’re unharmed! I’ll see to you later.”

  He grabbed hold of her arm. “What? Wait! My feet are like lead… where’s Charlie?”

  “Lord Eastbourne’s gone after him. Let me go! I need to follow him.”

  She tried to tug out of his grasp, but he held fast with his beefy fingers. “Gone after… what do ye mean? Charlie can’t walk.”

  “Please, Mr. Barrow. I’ll explain later.” She was losing precious time!

  “Meanin’ no disrespect, but if Lord Eastbourne left ye behind with me, he had a reason.”

  She tugged again, but he remained firm. “Charlie’s at the church, about to fly off the belfry unless we stop him! Lord Eastbourne’s gone after him. I have to go. I have to save Charlie. Please! Lord Eastbourne can’t do it by himself.”

  “I don’t pretend to understand any of this, but I’ve never seen a girl look more frightened or determined than ye right now. Go on, then. I’ll follow as soon as I can get my old body movin’.”

  She ran to the kitchen door, grabbed the boots she kept there, and shoved them on her feet before running up the hill to St. Lodore’s. Her eyes were blurred and legs wobbling. She stumbled several times along the dark path, but she knew it well and didn’t care how many cuts and bruises she collected each time she fell. She had to stop Charlie from crossing into the faerie world, for she could no longer doubt that such a world existed beyond his vivid imagination… or hers.

  Perhaps she was still dreaming. She wasn’t even sure, but the air was cool and damp, the grass wet beneath her boots. It felt real. She touched the goose-egg lump on her forehead. Ouch! It certainly was real and hurt like blazes.

  Julia noticed the lantern hanging by the church door and grabbed it. “We’ll need you,” she said, lighting it with trembling hands.

 

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