by L. R. Olson
“Shut up, Rafe,” the man with the scar growled, as he rolled off his brother. They were all three handsome. Perhaps not as stunning as James, but attractive all the same. Large, muscled, mean-looking…and apparently prone to arguing and fighting. This was my new family.
“Now is that any way to speak to your brother, Will?”
Although Will had a scar, it only added to his appeal. His hair was unfashionably long as it brushed against his shoulders, and there was a bit of an animalistic nature to his person that mesmerized. He was like an untamed lion. He glared first at Rafe, then turned the glare to me. A shiver of warning raced down my spine. I had to resist the urge to step behind Rafe.
“Do you know what he called me?” Will snapped, jerking his gaze toward the other man who was slowly regaining his feet.
My other brother-in-law was the lightest in color, with hair that was almost blond. But he had the same handsome features, same broad shoulders and impressive height as the others. “I was merely telling the truth.”
The man named Will cried out and lunged toward the blond like an irate bull. Rafe darted forward, stepping between the two. He shoved a hand against each male chest and attempted to hold them back. “Just calm down, damn it!”
“He’s a bloody bastard, Rafe, and you know it!” Will cried out.
“And you’re a bloody insane hermit!” the other man countered.
“Oliver, please!” Rafe sighed. “God, lads, can you not take a moment to act like gentlemen? At least when meeting your sister-in-law?”
The two men glanced dispassionately my way. They had absolutely no interest in their new relative. I smiled wanly, feeling the complete idiot standing there, clutching my reticule, legs trembling with exhaustion. I was covered in dust, I could barely keep my eyes open and thanks to sitting in the carriage for two days I was a wrinkled mess of a woman.
Yet, perhaps fortunately for me, they seemed more interested in fighting. I remembered telling Penny months ago that these men would welcome a woman’s presence. The thought made me want to laugh, and I had to swallow the insane cackle working its way up my throat. Absurd. Utterly absurd. Was this how most men acted? I’d been spoiled by Father and his calm, happy disposition. Will made another surge toward Oliver. Oh, how I wished to see my father again, to draw comfort from his arms. Overwhelmed, sudden tears burned my eyes.
“Rafe,” I whispered, as my knees began to buckle.
He didn’t hear, for he was too busy holding Will away from Oliver. “Just stop, you bleedin fools!”
“Rafe!”
All three men paused and glanced my way as if only just remembering I stood there. Had they truly forgotten me already? A heated flush of embarrassment raced to my cheeks. “I’d like to know where my rooms are, please. I’m not feeling well.”
“Who the hell is she?” Will demanded, his face holding a look of disgust that made me wonder if his dislike extended to all females, or merely me.
“I told you,” Rafe snapped. “She’s Jamie’s wife.”
“Thought she was blonde,” Oliver said, looking me up and down, as if I was some strange specimen, the likes of which he’d never seen. I felt like an insect pinned and placed on display in a museum. An insect found lacking.
“No,” Rafe muttered the lie. “Dark hair. Always dark.”
Oliver frowned. “Are you sure? I’m positive—”
“Come along, Julianna.” Rafe grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door before Oliver said something that would have embarrassed all of us, but mostly me. “I’ll escort you to your room.”
I nodded meekly. My body had grown flush. I was hot. Too hot. No one had taken my hat or cloak. No one had offered me tea or refreshment of any kind. I hadn’t even been introduced to the housekeeper. Rafe led me toward the massive curled staircase, and just the thought of climbing all those steps seemed daunting. But I was determined. It was as I started to place my booted foot upon the first step that I swerved.
“Dear Lord.” Rafe scooped me up into his arms as the world spun. “I’ll kill Jamie, I swear it.”
“My bet is Jamie will kill you for touching his wife,” Oliver called out.
“Shut up, Oliver,” Rafe grumbled as he started up the stairs.
Rafe didn’t want to be saddled with me, any more than Jamie. He was merely more polite about it. Was I truly to be left here in this dark and dreary world with these brutish men? “Please, do put me down. I’m well enough now.”
I could show no weakness. Not only would Jamie use it against me, but the staff as well.
“Don’t be silly. Very few women would be able to endure what you have gone through, my dear.”
I could feel Will and Oliver’s attention on us and my embarrassment grew. I didn’t dare look back. “Your brothers are…”
“Heathens?” He laughed as we made it to the first floor. “I’d love to say they aren’t normally like this, but…”
Good God, lovely. So many more brawls to look forward to.
“Is something amiss, my lord?” A sudden voice crackled from the shadows. An old crone of a woman who hid in the narrow corridor of a servant’s hall. Rafe’s ghosts came to mind and I shivered.
Rafe didn’t even pause. “Nothing to worry you, Mrs. Pickens.”
I glanced over his shoulder as he continued down the hall. I could barely see the little old woman as she hid within the darkness. How peculiar she seemed. “Who was that?”
“The nanny.”
I jerked my gaze to Rafe. “James has children?”
I would never be able to bear the utter humiliation of him not telling me.
“God no.” Rafe shook his head. “I can’t imagine him with children.”
Obviously he didn’t realize how his words would affect me.
“We can barely take care of ourselves. The nanny was ours when we were lads. Nasty creature who liked to give us ice baths as punishment.”
Horrified, I glanced over his shoulder once more. She was gone, melting into the shadows as if she’d never been there, as if she was a very part of the house where she lived. I’d had enough. No welcome whatsoever, fights in the drawing room, and now an old witch of a woman hiding in shadows just waiting to give my unborn children ice baths. I pushed at Rafe’s chest.
“I won’t be any trouble, I swear it.” My body trembled with anger. “If you could just set me down and show me to my rooms.”
“Nonsense. You’re in no condition to walk.” Rafe paused in front of a door at the end of the hall. “You have a corner room that has views of the front and side of the estate.”
Views of a dark and dreary moor. The door was already open. Someone had at least brought my trunks into the chamber. Seeing my things gave me some relief. At least I had my own clothing, my paints and pencils. But I was completely aware of how far away my rooms were from Jamie’s. I should have been grateful. Why wasn’t I?
“Rafe,” I started. “Is James alright?”
“Well, he’s a bastard, if that’s what you’re asking. Doubt he has a bleedin soul.”
“I already know that.” I smiled as he carried me into the room. “I mean because of the pub fight. I feel awfully guilty about involving you two. But if he would have merely let me play that last song…”
Rafe paused in the middle of the chamber, his stunned gaze on me. “Dear God, you actually care about him.”
I flushed, embarrassed, although I shouldn’t have been. He was, after all, my husband. Shouldn’t I have cared about the man? And I did. Damn it all. He didn’t deserve it, but I did. Or mayhap it was merely guilt eating at my soul. “As much as I care about anyone.”
Rafe laughed. “Hell, you’re in love with him.”
“No!”
“Poor Jules,” he sighed, shaking his head, his mirth falling to the wayside. The seriousness of his features gave me pause, made me nervous. “I need you to understand something. Promise me you’ll listen.”
I hesitated. “Alright.”
“Don
’t waste your emotions on Jamie. He’s a loyal man, a decent man. I care about him, I’d do anything for him, but he can’t love you back.”
The words were so sad, so dark and heavy that I didn’t dare disbelieve him. And I realized as my heart sank that I had deep down believed at some point James might forgive me. But if his brother held out no hope, the only brother with a positive disposition, what hope dare I hold?
“You don’t have to warn me, Rafe,” I said, staring at the buttons of his jacket, refusing to let him see the disappointment in my gaze. “I know he hates me. He had no desire to marry me.”
He laughed. “Dear, he wouldn’t have married you if he didn’t want you. My brother does nothing he doesn’t want to do.”
I jerked my gaze up to him. “But he was forced.”
Still carrying me, he started toward one of the chairs flanking the fireplace. “Believe me, he wanted you, Jules. But don’t let that fool you into thinking he will ever open his heart. I just don’t want you to get hurt. Jamie had to become a man much too early in life. The things he’s endured…”
His words haunted and confused me. “What, Rafe? What has Jamie endured?”
“Put my wife down now, Rafe, or I will give you another black eye to go with the one you have.”
Startled by Jamie’s sudden appearance, I almost jumped from Rafe’s arms and into the burning hearth.
“As I said,” Rafe whispered with a sad smile. “He isn’t capable of love.”
****
James
Seeing my wife in Rafe’s arms was enough to drive me mad. Damn it all, would I ever be in control of my emotions when she was near?
Jealousy.
No. I merely wondered if this was her next plan of attack…seduce my brother. And Rafe, the bastard, would probably let her, while smiling the entire time. She was too charming to resist. She knew exactly how to draw a man in, take him under and suffocate the poor bastard with his own desire.
He released his hold and Jules slid down his body.
Hell, if I didn’t want to lunge across the room, tear her from his side and slam my fist into his smug face. He was playing a game, of some sort. I could see it in his eyes. I’d had her trunks sent upstairs, had gone to see about her meal, her bath, and this is what I’d returned to find? So much for gratitude.
Jules, at least, had the decency to flush, embarrassed at being caught, if not ashamed of the act. Hell, were all women the same? Manipulative liars.
Shaking his head, Rafe left the room. My fingers curled as he brushed by me and I had to resist the urge to latch onto him. The sooner he returned to London, the better. I didn’t trust any of my brothers where Jules was concerned. If she’d managed to seduce me, she could seduce anyone.
Jules turned, her profile to me as she faced the fire. “I’d like you to leave,” she said with haughty disdain. Her hair had come loose from her braid and hung in waves around her sweet face. The face of a siren. “After the grueling pace you set, I need to rest.”
I released a harsh laugh, my anger turning to fury. The grueling pace I’d set was for her own safety, but if she wished to portray me as the uncaring lord, so be it. “Do you truly think you can tell me what to do? This is my home, Julianna. Mine. Best you learn that now.”
She spun around to face me, her cheeks flushed with anger. “I thought as man and wife we shared equally!”
Ah, there was that spirit I missed. I’d rather see her fighting, than meek. This, I knew, was the real Jules. Someone who didn’t relent, who pushed back. Not the sweet, charming woman she portrayed to the outside world. “Your home, my lord, is as dark, dreary and cold as you.”
Her anger calmed me for some reason. I could deal with the irate Julianna. I strolled by her and settled in the chair near the hearth. No more quivering miss, no more tears, no more pretense. “You didn’t find me cold and dreary when you seduced me, did you?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, looking tired and vulnerable. A skilled actress, no doubt. “I don’t know what you think, James, but I swear I didn’t mean to lie to you.”
“Did you come to my home that day intending to fuck me so that I would marry you, or were you merely trying to get back at your sister?”
Her deepened flush only added to her guilt. “I would never hurt my sister. You’ve visited enough to know that. I swear I didn’t know who you were!”
And with that comment she had answered my question. “Ah, so then you wanted marriage.”
“No.” She stepped hesitantly toward me. “I wanted you.”
Her words hit me hard. Her pleading eyes almost took me under. Almost. My fingers curled into the arms of the chair, my nails biting into the fabric. I wouldn’t fall for her. I wouldn’t be duped yet again.
“Do not pretend you weren’t going to use me as well,” she hissed.
I shrugged. “You like sex. I suppose I shouldn’t reprimand you for it. I’d be a hypocrite.”
“I’m not a whore, James.” She squared her shoulders and looked me directly in the eyes. “You know I was a virgin.”
“Yes, but you and I both know there are things a woman can do to find satisfaction without losing her virginity.”
Her delicate hands fisted. She wanted to slap me…again. Why I didn’t stop, I wasn’t sure. Every poke and prod to her armor made me feel better, for some reason. Hell, maybe I wanted her to hit me so I could feel anything other than the aching need for her that I’d been fighting for months.
“What are you saying?” she whispered.
“I’m saying that you might have been a virgin where it counts, but you sure as hell kissed like a whore. A person isn’t born knowing how to kiss like that.”
“How dare you!” she cried out.
I stood, hovering over her. “You did tell me you were ruined. That was, at least, one truth. But I wonder…how far did you go with Lord Welch’s pathetic son?”
“Get out,” she demanded, anger making her blue eyes shimmer like sapphires. God, how I despised myself for noticing. “Get out now!”
I laughed, although I felt no mirth. “Please, save the theatrics. You’ll need them for week’s end.”
She hesitated. “What happens at week’s end?”
“Children, Julianna,” I said, holding up two fingers. “That’s all I ask of you.”
“I don’t understand.” Her eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”
“I’ll offer you the same deal I was going to give your sister. When you have given me two children—two boys—I will leave you alone. We can live separately. A loveless marriage like everyone else. The children and you can live wherever you wish. Here. London. Near your parents. You’ll be free of me.”
Why didn’t she look relieved? She only appeared perplexed. Had she truly thought we would reside together as man and wife? Hell, I would never understand the witch. Frustrated, I started toward the door. I needed a damn drink. Something to numb the ache.
“I’ll let you rest this week, but then we enter this marriage as man and wife.”
And hell if the prospect of bedding her didn’t appeal to me much more than I thought it would. I left her room, closing the door and not bothering to wait for a response. One week. In one week I could sink into her warm, tight sheath. In one week I could ease the constant ache.
“Damn her,” I whispered fiercely. Would I ever be free of my need for her? I paused, trying to breathe with some normalcy. My heart beat with a ferocity I didn’t understand. Being in that room with her, that close to a bed, had turned my body to stone. I wanted her. As much as before. Maybe more.
Annoyed, I pushed away from the wall and started down the hall.
“Good eve, Jamie,” I heard from the shadows. A raspy, ancient voice that had brought chills to my skin when I’d been a lad. Now I felt nothing but disgust. “See ye’ve brought a lovely wife home with ye.”
My annoyance flared. She might have terrified me when I was a boy, but she didn’t anymore. She could try her witchery o
n someone else. “Mrs. Pickens.”
Slowly, I turned to face the old nanny.
“Your mum was sad ye didn’t invite her to the wedding.”
“Oh Pickens,” I said with a tight smile. “You can tell my mum to go to hell.”
The old woman narrowed her soulless eyes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was cursing me under her breath. She probably was a witch and had put a spell on me years ago. It would explain so many things. “How dare you speak of your mother with such disrespect.”
“Stepmother. Good night, Pickens. I do hope you sleep well.” With a bow, I turned and left her standing there. I should have warned Jules to lock her door at night. Even my wife, with her skills in charm and manipulation, would be no match for the nanny.
I started down the steps. I’d seen Jules. I’d given her my warning. It was time to settle things with my brothers. I wouldn’t have them here, underfoot, questioning my every act. She was my wife, damnation, and I would do with her as I saw fit.
“She’s a sweet girl,” I heard Rafe say as I made it to the parlor. “But he will crush her spirit, her soul.”
“What do you expect?” Oliver said. “With what he went through.”
I paused in the doorway, irritated. When had they become gossiping fools? They glanced my way but none looked sheepish for speaking about me. Oliver and Will merely appeared curious, while Rafe actually seemed annoyed. I started into the room and didn’t pause until I reached him. Without hesitation I lifted my fist and punched him in the face.
His head jerked back with a crack. “Damnation, Jamie!”
The pain in my knuckles was worth it. “Don’t ever touch my wife again, understand?”
“She almost fainted!” Rafe snapped back, rubbing his nose. “You arse! What should I have done? Left her in a pool upon the ground? Shoved her out of the way and gone about my business?”
I ignored his excuse and went to the sideboard. Had she truly been that exhausted? Damn, if the guilt didn’t appear again. I’d pushed her hard, but I’d wanted away from bloody, sunny Dorset as soon as possible. Besides, the moors were teaming with highwaymen. I’d been trying to protect her. I refused to feel ashamed.