He reached the landing and made his way down the hall, hoping she would still be wearing her silk frock so that he could peel it off of her. But when he opened the door, he was not met with a willing wife, but one who was red-faced from crying and wrapped in a bulky robe.

The servants had obviously been dismissed, as was evidenced by the disarray in the room. Stockings were crumpled in one corner, a pair of dainty red shoes lay on opposite sides of a chair, and various jars were left open.

“Julia, are you unwell?” He closed the door and rushed to where she sat on the edge of the bed. “Shall I summon a physician?”

She shook her head and glanced up at him. Her long lashes were spiked with moisture. “I can’t do this, William. Forgive me, but I-I do not think I am meant to be a wife.”

His mind reeled at her words. Were they back to this?

“I beg your pardon?” He sank to the bed beside her. “Has something happened?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I’m a coward.” She buried her face in her hands, and her throat flexed as she tried with an obvious effort to hold back her tears. “I married you to escape my father’s household, and now I’m realizing what I tried to leave has followed me.”

How very flattering.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” William said in an even tone. It cost him dearly to keep the desperation from his voice, to keep from demanding answers. He was finally on the cusp of getting the family he wanted, but she did not want him. The same as all the families before who took him in after his parents’ deaths.

The story spilled from her, of her father and his lover in the theater box. A tawdry tale to be sure.

He listened attentively. “And you think I will do this to you?”

“I worry it might someday happen.” Julia gave a miserable sniff. “I hadn’t realized how much I feared it, until I was reassured that you did not have a lover at your country estate. But then seeing Lady Venerton flirting with you and touching you—”

“I did not encourage her.” The anger had flared up within William. The odious woman had been impossible. Toward the end of dinner, he’d had to be downright rude to keep her from putting her hands upon him.

“You did not,” Julia agreed. “But someday you might. Or someday it might be a different woman whose attentions you do want.” She sniffled miserably. “Then I overheard you talking downstairs about Maribel, and again, I thought you meant another woman. Do you not see, William?”

He stared at her in question. For he did not see. Not a bloody whit.

“I will forever think you are with another woman,” she exclaimed. “It will drive me mad. It will drive you mad.” She pressed her lips together as her eyes welled with a fresh bout of tears.

He met her gaze and put his hand gently under her chin to keep her from looking away. “I am not your father.”

Her brow crumpled, and she nodded.

“Get to know me, Julia, and you will discover I am not that sort of man.” He didn’t bother to hide his hurt. “Get to know me and let me prove to you that you married me for more than an escape from your childhood home.”

“Forgive me, William.” She brushed at her wet cheeks. “Please, I need you to agree to allow me to move to the country once I’ve delivered an heir.”

“If you still believe me to be a man who will not be loyal, and who will not love you faithfully by the time you have delivered our son, then yes, I will allow it.” He chose his words carefully, intentionally.

She was correct when she said she did not know him upon their marriage. The courtship had been only two short months. Not nearly enough time to be fully acquainted. His impulsivity sometimes spun around to bite him; this was clearly one of those times. Except he would not let this opportunity slip through his fingers. He had only one wife, only one chance for a real family, and he would not lose.

Julia’s shoulders sagged in evident relief. “Thank you. I am terribly sorry.”

“Do not be sorry yet.” He stroked a hand down her cheek. “You are still here.” He pressed a tender kiss to her brow and got to his feet to prepare for bed.

He took his time unwinding his cravat, pulling off his waistcoat, and carefully folding them as he set them aside. Julia watched him with an unreadable expression. “What are you doing?”

He tugged off his shirt and squared his shoulders so every muscle in his torso flexed. She looked away, but not before giving an audible intake of breath.

“Preparing for bed.” He went about the room, tidying up what had been left a disaster.

“It’s early.”

“Not so very early.” He scooped up the discarded silk dress and carefully draped it over a chair to ensure the fabric didn’t wrinkle. When he turned back to her, he found her gaze feasting on his backside before it snapped away.

His hands went to the placket of his breeches. “Are you ready?”

She gave a vigorous nod and darted under the covers, bulky robe and all. Her eyes remained averted as he unbuttoned his pants and pushed them off. She did not look at him again, not even after he’d donned his nightshirt.

He put out the candles and slid into the large bed beside her. She stiffened. He settled himself on his back and closed his eyes.

It took only a few moments before Julia began to wriggle about. A slight shifting at first, then turning and tossing about like a fish flopping on the dock.

“William?” she said finally.

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you…?” she left the question hanging unsaid.

“Going to sleep?” he finished. “Why, yes, that is precisely what I’m doing. Or rather what I would be doing if you weren’t squirming around.”

“What I mean to say is, aren’t you…going to…have relations with me?” She asked the question in barely a whisper.

And William smiled into the darkness.




CHAPTER 4




JULIA’S CHEEKS were hot with embarrassment. How awful to have had to voice such a question aloud. No wife should be forced to ask if her husband meant to have relations with her.

“No,” William replied.

“Oh.” She lay there awkwardly, unable to sleep and trying not to fidget. The bed had been quite a decent size the prior three nights, fluffy and comfortable and wonderfully large. Now, it appeared to be too small, every movement making her fearful she might bump or brush against him.

Well, maybe that was what she needed to do. If she was going to get with child quickly and be free of this whole marital mess, she had to be brazen enough to take action on her own.

She rolled toward him and put her fingertips to his arm. His nightshirt was thin, and the heat of his solid flesh was a welcome reprieve from the chilled night air. “William?”

“Mmmm…?”

“You’re very warm,” she ventured.

“You may press against me.” His voice was gravely, suggesting he had already fallen asleep. A ridiculous notion. No one fell asleep that quickly.

She accepted his invitation and rested the length of her body against him. The simple act of putting herself against him immediately heated her icy fingers and toes. A sigh escaped her lips. He was more than warm; he was hot. And strong.

She recalled him without his shirt, the powerful cut of muscle across his broad chest. Emboldened by her goal, she trailed her fingers over his shoulder, below his neck where his skin was uncovered by the shirt, naked. His heartbeat thundered under her touch.

Still he did not react. And he was very clearly not asleep. Of that she was certain.

“Would you like to undress me?” she asked.

“We should play a game,” he said abruptly.

She froze in the exploration of his body. “A game?”

“Yes.” The rich timbre of his voice rumbled under her fingertips. “Tomorrow is the last day of the house party. For every game you win, you will decide what it is we do together. For every game I win, I will decide.”

“That seems fair,” she replied slowly into the dark. She withdrew her hand but did not turn away from the delicious heat of his large frame.

“Best of luck in the morning.” With that, the infuriating man immediately fell asleep.

Julia, however, did not sleep. Not right away at least. Not with William lying beside her, hot and powerful.

A game, indeed.

She’d always been good at them and seemed to possess a considerable amount of luck. It would be simple. She merely needed to win at least once and claim her prize, which would be intercourse. She would become pregnant, deliver a boy, and be done.

It was the perfect plan.

Or so she thought.

The following morning when she awoke, William was already gone. His absence this time was welcome. After an uncomfortable night of sleeping at his side, trying desperately to keep from touching his person with any part of hers, she was all too grateful to be alone.

The door opened and her maid, Edith, entered with a silver salver. The scent of heated chocolate filled the room.

“I’d hoped you’d be awake.” Edith set the tray on the small table before the fire. “His Grace ordered this from the kitchen.” She straightened without bothering to retain her grin. “He remembered that I’d requested it for you from his cook at Stedton Place. Such a thoughtful gesture.”

Julia pulled herself from bed at the idea of the warm rich cup of chocolate. Her head ached, and her eyes were gritty. The treat was quite welcome to be sure. “Thank you for bringing it up, Edith.”

The maid nodded and slipped from the room to give Julia time to enjoy the hot beverage. It was considerate of him.

And it was not his only thoughtful gesture throughout the day. He ordered a shawl brought down for her while she read in the library, even though he wasn’t in there to see if she would get a chill. He complimented her on her new gown as she made her way to luncheon. In fact, it appeared he was intentionally going out of his way to bestow her with kindness.