by L. R. Olson
“Go find some unattached woman to flirt with Rafe, Jules is taken.”
He winked at me. “If only I’d found you first.”
I blushed.
“Rafe,” James growled.
“Very well.” He glanced out at the crowd and paused. “Who is that? Someone new? About bloody time.”
I followed his gaze to find Cecilia speaking with my parents, her face flushed and pretty with her excitement. My worry soared. “You met her in Dorset, Rafe,” I said, annoyed that he’d forget my friend so easily. “And don’t even bloody think about it.”
He quirked a brow. “She looks…different.”
“She’s my best of friends and I won’t have you ruin her.”
He bowed. “Of course not.”
Before I could warn him further, he moved into the crowd, but I noticed his grin. The bastard. That man needed to fall in love and hard. He needed a taste of the heartache I was sure he’d provided so often.
Jamie sighed. “I’ll speak with him.”
“He’s only teasing to upset us,” I said. “He’s like an unruly child we should ignore. Every woman is a prized fox and he the hunter.”
“He’s not teasing about you, Jules. The man would kill me if he thought he could get away with it, and marry you himself.”
My lips parted to reject the ridiculous notion, but I realized he was utterly serious. Why me? There were many women much more beautiful. “Rafe needs a wife,” I muttered, feeling highly uncomfortable.
I’d never had so much attention. Certainly hadn’t been flirted with this often on my short trip to London. I wasn’t sure if I liked it. I did know that I didn’t like the attention that other women kept sliding my way. I felt as if they were dissecting me with their gazes, attempting to find flaws, trying to understand why it was that a man like James would attach himself to me.
“Rafe was married. Even has a child.”
“What?” I gasped in surprise. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t think it important.”
I frowned. Of course it was important as they were my family now. But James hadn’t deemed it important because he didn’t like to share. Would he ever think of me as a confidant? A friend? Or merely someone to have dinner with, someone to carry his children? “What happened to her?”
I knew even before he said the words by the dark look in his gaze. “She died.”
Dear lord, another dead? Why was it that whenever I felt as if I was making progress with this outlandish family, something happened that made me wary once more?
“In childbirth,” he explained, as if sensing my unease. He was watching me closely, too closely. He knew I felt unsure. I wanted to smile and brush my insecurities away if merely to make him feel better, but couldn’t.
What if I died while giving birth and left my child here to fend for himself? So many things to worry about. Desperate, I searched for my parents. They were holding court in the far corner. My mother caught my gaze and grinned. She adored the attention. Father, too, looked quite happy. I couldn’t bother them with my insecurities.
“James,” Rafe called out. I didn’t miss the thunderous look upon his face. Something was wrong. “A moment.”
“Of course.”
James gave me one more glance, then he was gone and I was alone within a sea of unfamiliar faces, all watching me, all wondering. No doubt rumors of my first time in London those years ago was being shared around the room. They assumed Jamie had married much, much below himself. Penny wouldn’t have minded. She would have smiled and charmed them all. But I’d never been good in social situations.
Feeling frustrated and alone, I moved toward the open balcony doors, the cool breeze calling. The darkness held me close like an embrace. I felt safe out there, looking in through the windows. Jamie still stood in the center of the room, Rafe at his side. They were close, their faces serious as they talked. I couldn’t look at him without that desire flaring. I wanted him so desperately. But I wanted all of him. His body, his heart, his soul.
I turned away and leaned against the railing, gazing out upon the moors. The moon was a brilliant crescent that hung in the sky. I realized with some surprise that I no longer feared this place. Instead, I was beginning to see the magic in the silence. The stillness in the landscape. Even the hope within the estate. Could this house be a home for my children? For me?
The soft tap of heeled slippers alerted me to a female presence.
I turned, expecting to see Cecilia. Instead an older woman with graying hair stood in the open doors. For one long moment we merely stared at each other.
“So, you’re Jamie’s wife,” she finally said.
The woman from the painting, only slightly older. I’d know her anywhere. She wore her gray hair in a tight bun, her lavender gown beautiful and rich. I knew without doubt this was Jamie’s stepmother. The woman who had made his life hell. The woman who didn’t care about him in the least.
“I am his wife, and you’re the dowager.”
She didn’t respond, merely looked me up and down in a slow glance that left me feeling completely inadequate. “I am surprised. You’re not his usual type.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint.”
She was still a beautiful woman, but like a statue I’d once seen in Hyde Park, cold, untouchable. “I don’t find you important enough to feel disappointed, my dear. It’s Jamie you’ll have to deal with when he realizes he’s chosen a country mouse to parade about in society.”
Her harsh words shouldn’t have stunned me, for after the things I’d heard about the woman I should have expected as much. But the cruel hardness of her eyes sent a cold shiver down my spine and Jamie’s warning not to interact with her rang through my mind.
I searched for my husband. He had spotted his stepmother and was headed our way, his face a mask of fury.
This was a woman who would hurt whomever needed to get what she wanted. I’d always thought of myself as quite clever, but I wondered if I could handle her. I’d been protected, coddled.
“He seems content enough,” I said, keeping my voice pleasant and level. “And if not, well, there isn’t exactly much he can do about it now. He’s quite trapped.”
Her lips curled at the corners. “Is he? There are always ways to dissolve a marriage.”
My irritation flared. “Divorce is hardly appropriate in any society.”
She shrugged. “There are other ways.”
I was silent. Was she threatening to kill me off? I would not be baited. Deep down I prayed Jamie would get to me and fast, but he’d been waylaid by Oliver. He was no doubt warning him of their stepmother’s arrival.
“Do you like plays,” she asked, those dark eyes sparkling with a wickedness that was hard to miss. Even though her back was to the ballroom, she knew her appearance was causing a commotion.
“I suppose.”
“Dramas?”
What was she getting at? “Actually I prefer comedies.”
She laughed, surprising me. “Well, I’m sure someday you’ll find this all amusing.”
“All of this?” I asked.
“Come,” she said, turning toward the doors. “You must see the next act. It will be talked about for years.”
She floated back into the ballroom. Confused, desperate to speak with James, I started after her. My husband caught my gaze the moment I entered. I wanted to call out to him, to warn him, but I wasn’t even sure what I warned him from. Frantic, I weaved my way through the crowds, trying to get to him.
“Excuse me,” I muttered. “Excuse me.”
Nervous, I searched for Jamie’s stepmother. She’d reached the entrance of the ballroom just as another, younger woman entered. A stunning woman of exotic beauty, with dark hair and dark eyes. She had her long, wavy hair unfashionably free, flowing down her back and around her shoulders. The red dress she wore hugged her lush curves. She was a woman who pulsed with power and sensuality. I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
A wave o
f silence swept over the crowd as one by one they turned to see what it was that could possibly draw such attention. The dowager reached the woman and kissed her cheek. They were more than acquaintances, they were friends. It was as the woman shifted that I noticed the boy.
A lad with his mother’s dark hair and dark eyes.
A boy not more than six or seven.
A chill raced down my spine. Frantic, I searched for my husband. Jamie had paused in the middle of the room, Rafe and Oliver at his side. He no longer looked at me, but all three men were staring at the dark-haired woman in the doorway.
From where I stood I heard Rafe’s curse, saw the anger flash across his face. Even Oliver looked upset, his hands fisted at his sides.
But Jamie…Jamie merely stood there as if frozen in place.
“Hello James,” his stepmother said, her strong voice echoing across the silent ballroom, a wicked smile in place. “I’d heard you married.”
She started across the floor, the dark-haired woman and her son following.
“But I thought…that can’t be true.”
The entire world seemed to slow. The floor below me felt tilted. The room devoid of air.
Something was wrong. So very wrong.
“Because of course you can’t be married to Julianna.” His stepmother wrapped her arm around the dark-haired woman’s waist. “Since you’re already married to Claudine here.”
Chapter 11
James
I tore open the door to the parlor, and spotted Claudine standing casually near the windows as if she hadn’t just appeared in my ballroom like some long dead ghost.
The moment I saw her everything faded but the beautiful woman before me...her shapely body outlined by the soft glow of lanterns that were placed around the room. Even now, years later, I could not deny she was stunning. That long, dark hair, those lush lips that had known so expertly how to give me pleasure.
Determinedly, I moved across the carpet, heading straight toward her, unconcerned with the others. Yes, vaguely, I was aware of my stepmother and the young boy they’d brought along on the other side of the room watching. Vaguely, I was aware of Rafe at my back, following me into the room. But none of that mattered.
Only one person remained important…Claudine.
Sensing me, she turned, a smile upon her beautiful face. “James.”
My name was a breathy sensual brush of air that whispered from her lush lips. It was as if the years had not passed at all. She had not aged. Time had only brought a maturity to her features that made the woman all the more intriguing.
Her gaze devoured me, hungrily scanning my form. In her eyes I saw her desire, her need. It was as if nothing had changed between us. “Lovely to see you again.”
I didn’t stop until I reached her. My emotions could not be contained. In one swift movement I gripped her by the neck and slammed her back against the wall. Her eyes went wide, a gasp escaping her full lips as her shoulders hit the plaster hard.
I stepped close, pressing my body into hers and holding her captive. Her familiar rose scent swirled around me, taunting, mocking. “Get the bloody fuck out of my house.”
Her gaze narrowed, a serpent’s eyes. There was no soul there. No compassion. No empathy. Nothing that made a person…human.
After what Claudine had done to me those years ago, I’d sworn to never, ever allow a woman to control my emotions again. I had been determined to be indifferent to the feminine sex. In fact, I was determined to never think about her again. But even ten years later, one glance at the woman and all control vanished. I’d never hated anyone as much as I hated her. All of my carefully constructed control disappeared.
“Jamie,” Rafe warned. “It’s not worth it.”
But it would be. Seeing her take her last breath would be so very much worth any punishment that would come my way. The bitch deserved to die. But not a quick death. Oh no. Long and pain-filled…torturous. As I continued to put pressure upon her neck the shock went out of Claudine’s eyes and a smile spread across her lips. A slow, seductive grin. A smile that made me realize she was in control of me once more. I was willing to give up my life for her, my life with Jules.
“You did like to be rough at times,” she rasped in her sensual French accent, “didn’t you?”
My fingers curled, squeezing the delicate column of her neck. Her pulse pounded against my palm. I could kill her so easily. So easily. But then she would win. My stepmother would win. The gossips in London would win.
“Remember that time you took me in the alley? Shoved me up against the brick wall,” she said, her voice just low enough for me to hear. “You couldn’t wait to have me then and there. I’ve missed your passion.”
How could I forget? I’d tried. I’d tried so hard to ignore the memories, and I had finally succeeded…when Jules had entered my life. Julianna, who had run from the ballroom, so obviously hurt, I swore I could feel her pain. Julianna, whom I had blamed because I hadn’t trusted her when the true person, the only person, who should have been the recipient of my distrust was standing before me.
The shock faded slightly and surprise lit her gaze. Finally, she was taking me seriously. But she didn’t look afraid…no. A witch like her didn’t fear death, but laughed in the devil’s face. Dared him to come after her. A woman like her would welcome hell.
“Jamie, stop.” Rafe rested his hand on my shoulder. “Let go. Don’t allow her to do this to you.”
For one long moment I kept my hold. Although my rational mind demanded I release her, my fingers would not uncurl…until her breath grew labored. Rafe was right. She was controlling me all over again. Did I have a right to hate her? To be angry? Yes. Undoubtedly. But I’d wasted so much time trying to forget this woman, I was done. No more.
“Are you going to kill me in front of your son?” she gasped.
Her words sent a cold chill through my body and for a moment my fingers tightened as the world around me faded.
“You bitch,” Rafe snapped, shoving me aside. “How dare you!”
“It’s true! It’s really him!” she insisted, looking frantically toward the boy.
The world came rushing back on a roar. The anger returned, burning a path through my body and leaving me shaking. “If you don’t leave my house immediately I will kill you.”
“Please do, my dear boy,” my stepmother hissed from her chair. “Perhaps then you’ll finally end up in Newgate where you belong.”
I didn’t even bother to look her way. She meant nothing to me. Yes, they had humiliated me and destroyed the family name in a crowded ballroom. But even worse they had humiliated Jules. They had destroyed what was supposed to be her day. Where the hell was she? “Get out.”
“You’ll do this to an innocent child?” my stepmother asked, resting her hand on the boy’s narrow shoulder. He looked miserably at the floor.
My sympathy stirred. He was a mere pawn in this game. An innocent lad with dark hair and wide dark eyes.
Reluctantly, I stepped back, putting distance between me and Claudine.
I didn’t miss the slow, seductive smile that tipped the corners of her lush mouth. She thought she had me. She thought she’d won. God, how I wished I could walk away. She wasn’t the only one pleased. My stepmother sat in a chair near the hearth. The woman looked quite content with herself and I knew she had been the master behind this plan. She knew nothing would come of her declaration but my humiliation. But that was all she needed…to destroy my reputation in front of the ton.
I was so damn tired of being subject for their gossip. I’d spent my youth fighting those who ridiculed the family name until I’d earned the respect of the most important male members London parliament had to offer. But that didn’t stop the gossipmongers from having fun. The battle was over. I no longer cared.
I shifted my gaze toward the child. The boy wasn’t mine. I knew it. I would have guessed his age to be seven at the most. He didn’t deserve this. Hell, where had they found him?
&
nbsp; “Tu parles anglais?” I asked him.
He peeked up at me and nodded. “Little bit.”
“Come here.”
I settled in the chair opposite my stepmother, who watched it all with thinly veiled amusement. Evil bitch. He shuffled toward me. The poor boy was dressed well, as if to put on a façade. But I could see the bones underneath his clothing. On what street had they found him, attempting to pawn him off as my child? “Are you hungry? Food?”
His dull eyes lit up. “Oui.”
I found my first smile in the last hour. Without a glance at Claudine or my stepmother, I stood. Resting my hand on his narrow shoulder, I led him toward the door. Rafe stood near a bookcase, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. Loyal to a fault, he wanted so badly to toss Claudine and our stepmother from the estate, but he was waiting for my word. This was, after all, my battle. Opening the door, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see my butler standing guard.
“Jenkins, have a maid take this young man to the kitchens. Get him whatever he wants.” The lad went eagerly to the butler’s side. Before he left, I lowered my voice. “And Jenkins, see if Oliver has found Lady Whitfield.”
“Yes, my lord.”
I turned, only to pause. “And find out which servant my stepmother bribed to get inside and fire him or her.”
“Yes, my lord.”
I watched them leave, but my thoughts remained with Jules. Where was she? Every moment that ticked by felt like another moment farther away from her. The gap between us widening. I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. I wouldn’t even try. I knew she’d be angry, but surely she would understand once I told her the truth.
I had to resist the urge to slam my fist into the wall. “Damnation.”
Taking in a deep, cleansing breath, I cleared my face of any emotion. Show no feelings. Hadn’t that been drilled into my brain a million times as a child? I returned to the parlor. Claudine stared at the door with a frown. She was losing her pawn in this game. I waited until the door closed, in case a guest wandered by and heard us. “You’re leaving.”