The bluestocking brides, p.14
The Bluestocking Brides, page 14
“Does this help? To be lower?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Now do be quiet.”
He masked a chuckle. How many women would be willing to speak to him like that? So bluntly with little care for pandering to his feelings. He could not help but adore it. He swung his gaze sideways and admired the little creases between her eyes as she studied the water. Perhaps he was also beginning to adore her.
The only question was, could she ever be persuaded to adore him?
Under the pretense of getting more comfortable, he let his arm brush hers. A little dirt dropped onto her bare arm so he brushed it off, ever so slowly and languorously as he relished the soft feel of her skin. She sucked in a loud breath and scowled at him.
“You had a little mud.”
The day was bright enough for him to see the blush in her cheeks. If he was not much mistaken, her breathing remained rapid for some time. He caught her looking at him more than once in the next half an hour. She might not adore him but she was certainly feeling a physical attraction to him. It was enough, for now. He could wear her down, he was certain.
A shudder traversed her body and he tapped her hand to get her attention. “Are you cold?”
“No,” she whispered. Another visible shudder ran through her.
“Liar.” The evening was cooling off and while he was dressed well, her thin gown would not offer much protection. He eased up to sitting and tugged off his jacket. When he laid it over her shoulders, she stiffened. He took a moment to adjust it, accidentally but not so accidentally brushing the exposed back of her neck with his fingers. Though she trembled again, he knew it was not from cold this time.
Guy settled back next to her, assuming the same position as before. “I would have thought an experienced nature watcher such as yourself would have brought a thicker coat.”
Another half an hour passed by his estimation and still no sign of the otters. He hardly cared. He passed the time imagining slipping off her spencer jacket and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Or perhaps loosening her gown and tickling his mouth over her back.
He leaned in and let his arm press against hers. “How much longer do we have to wait?”
“As long as it takes. Otters are shy creatures.”
“And you do this often? Sit and wait for them?”
“Yes. At least recently. They had babies and I wanted to study the family unit. They have burrows not far from here but this is where you can truly see them in action when they come to hunt.”
“How often do you get to see them?”
“Oh, I’ve seen them about three times.”
“Only three? And how many days have you been here?”
“Nearly every day for the past month.”
He shook his head. “You have more patience than I, Julia.”
She twisted toward him, her mouth open. It left their faces mere inches from each other. He had not intended to use her name, it had simply slipped out, but he was glad of the effect if it meant he could get closer to her. Several heartbeats passed and he searched her eyes. Her gaze slipped down to his lips then up to his eyes. He saw her shake her head a little then turn away.
“You can call me Guy if you wish.”
“I hardly care.”
Her dismissive tone told him he’d thrown her onto the edge again. Perhaps her defensiveness had been more to do with her attraction to him and less about the otters than he’d thought. He would have to pay closer attention from now on.
“I can call you Julia then?”
“If you wish.”
“Well, Julia, where exactly did you tell your mother you were going?”
She shrugged. “Mama will not notice I am gone. She always claims she has too many daughters to keep track of us all.”
“That is useful. Particularly when you’re sneaking out of the house in the evening to have an illicit meeting with a man.”
“There is nothing illicit about this.”
“To us, yes. To everyone else...I am fairly certain they would think it illicit.”
Julia twisted her head to look at him. “I must trust your word then. After all, I am sure you know all about illicit meetings.”
“Perhaps.” He chuckled. “It does not concern you that if anyone caught us, you would be ruined?”
She snorted. “No one comes here apart from me. Well, until recently. Besides, no one would expect a duke to want to seduce a Chadwick. Everyone apart from me and my sisters were shocked when a viscount asked Amelia to marry him.”
“If they are shocked then it is because they do not see your excellent qualities.”
“You are teasing me.” She turned away from him. “No one believes red hair and freckles and a liking for anything studious are excellent qualities.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might?”
Instead of turning toward him again, she eyed him sideways. “Now you really are teasing me.”
“Not at all.” He fingered the curl that had fallen over her forehead again and pushed it back. “I happen to think red hair is quite enchanting. A welcome break from a sea of fair hair and brunettes.” He flicked a finger over her nose and she made a startled sound that he wanted to hear again. “Freckles too. I like them. They make me curious.”
Now she looked again. “Curious?”
He suppressed a wicked grin. “I won’t tell you why. It will only scandalize you.”
“You forget I am a nature lover. The animal world is not so nearly as prim and proper.”
“The animal world does not have the mind of a wicked man.”
“And you certainly are a wicked man.”
“That I am,” he agreed.
“What do they make you think, Guy? Tell me.”
“Very well.” He rolled onto his side, keeping his head propped up with one hand. “They make a man wonder about other freckles.”
She frowned.
“You have a few on your arms. Some on your collar bone. And...” He dropped his gaze and eyed her cleavage meaningfully.
Julia gasped. “You really are wicked!”
“You cannot say I did not warn you.”
Her gaze ran up and down him before settling on his eyes. “I will not deny that perhaps...just perhaps some men might like redheads and freckles. After all, Amelia’s husband does. However, I have yet to meet a man tolerant of a woman who likes to study.”
“Nicholas does not?”
“He is an exception.”
Guy shook his head. “You have likely observed humans just as you have observed nature. You have probably seen exceptions when it comes to animals and plants. Do you not think it is possible there is more than one exception?”
“If you are trying to convince me you are an exception, you will have no chance. I saw what you thought of me when we first met and I told you of the otters.”
He sighed. “For a clever woman, Julia, you can be incredibly stupid.”
“How dare—” She reached out to push him and he gripped her wrist and used the movement to draw her close.
“I certainly never looked down on you because of your love of animals or even bloody otters. Quite the opposite actually.”
A crease appeared between her brows. “What...?”
He tugged her further in so only a mere inch was between them. Her breath danced across his face. Every part of him heated. The uncomfortable ground beneath him and the gentle rush of wind through the trees was forgotten. He could not even recall what the sound of the river was. All he could think of was Julia. Clever, courageous, fiery Julia and her plump lips and delectable body.
He leaned in.
“Oh.” She twisted out of his grip suddenly. “Look,” she whispered, her voice full of awe. “There they are.”
He squinted at the water and sure enough, two otters had slipped into the river and were making their way downstream past them. They were what most women would call cute creatures but they moved with an agility that any man would admire.
Guy could see why Julia was so fascinated by them. However, he could not help regretting the interruption. Had they not arrived, would he have had the chance to kiss her as they both so clearly wanted?
Chapter Nine
“Yoo hoo.”
Julia turned her attention to Catherine who had been chatting away for the past half an hour as they walked to town.
“You have been so distracted recently,” her sister huffed.
Emma nodded. “She has.”
“Yes, well I...I have a lot to think about.” Julia swallowed. Her sisters knew her too well and if they looked closely enough they would see the heat in her cheeks as she thought of last night. She crushed that thought. Images of Guy’s lips or his long, big body did not belong in her mind. Not at all. She banished them underneath her annoyance at him.
Who did he think he was, teasing her so? Did he think her so desperate for male affection that she would let him kiss her? She would not have, even if the otters had not interrupted.
Yes, you would, a rebellious voice whispered. Silently, she ordered that voice to be quiet.
“What do you have to think about?” Catherine picked up a stalk of corn and plucked it apart.
The sun shone high in the sky, beating down upon them, bringing forth the promise of a glorious summer. Of course, this was England and the promise was likely to be false. Just as they had been enjoying time at a garden party only yesterday, the chances were they would be sheltering from the rain next week.
“The otters of course,” Julia snapped.
Emma groaned.
Julia scowled. “What? They need protecting. You said you would help.”
“Yes, and we did. We brought the pigeons remember and risked a barrage of doo doo.” Catherine thrust the corn stalk at her. “What more can we do?”
Julia shook her head. “I do not know but there must be something. Guy...I mean Lord Weston has to be persuaded. Somehow.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Emma give Catherine a nudge. Emma grinned. “Guy, is it now? Could it be that you do not hate him quite so much anymore? That is why you are at a loss?”
Pausing in the road, Julia planted hands to hips. “He still wants to build his mill. Nothing has changed. Including how I feel about him.”
Emma shrugged and continued walking. “If you say so,” she said in a sing-songy tone.
It was true. She had no idea how to feel about him. It had to be hate, it just had to be. All he had remarked on was how interesting the otters were and how he had enjoyed their clandestine time together. That did not mean he would not build the mill. Even after she had demanded a firm answer, he said he would think about it. More likely he was intending to go ahead and build it and was toying with her for amusement.
“What did you need from town, Emma?” Julia asked, praying her sisters did not notice the quick change in subject. It was hard enough to deal with Guy’s games without her sisters prying.
“A new set of playing cards.” Emma huffed. “I never did find mine.”
“What a shame. Let’s hope there are some in stock at the bits and bobs shop.” Catherine’s sarcastic tone went unnoticed. “Oh, look who it is.” Catherine waved her hand frantically.
Julia smiled when she recognized the couple strolling along the lane. Marriage suited Amelia. She near glowed with love for her husband.
“We were just coming to see you,” Amelia declared.
Nicholas nodded and pulled out a tatty pack of cards. “I believe these are yours, Emma.”
“Oh goody.” She snatched them up.
“Oh goody,” Catherine grumbled.
“Thank you so much,” Emma said, a wide grin on her face. “I was going to town to buy a new pack. I was lost without them.”
“The gardener found them behind one of the rose bushes,” Amelia told them. “Are you still heading into town? Shall we accompany you?”
“Oh please do,” Julia said. At least then the attention would be away from her. “I feel like I hardly spoke to you yesterday.”
Amelia smiled “That is because you did not. I was quite happy when our last guest had gone. It was a busy day.”
Nicholas and Amelia turned and led the way down the lane back toward the village. “I saw you talking with Lord Weston, Julia,” Amelia commented over her shoulder. “Is he not handsome? I imagine Mama was thrilled that you were speaking with a duke.”
Nicholas huffed. “Not that handsome.”
“No, not that handsome,” she agreed, laughing. “I have seen more handsome men, obviously.”
“Julia loathes him,” Catherine said.
“He seems a decent chap to me. What has the poor fellow done to offend you, Julia?” Nicholas asked.
“You have not heard the rumors then?” Julia said.
Amelia’s brows lifted. “When did you turn into our mother?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Julia scowled.
“You never normally listen to rumors. Why are you now?”
“Because they are likely to be true. He might be pleasant enough at dinner parties but he is an arrogant oaf the rest of the time.” Julia thrust her chin up and eyed Emma and Catherine. They had to know what she meant surely? They had seen the way he argued with her in the forest.
Emma shrugged. “He seems nice all the time. If it was not for this mill and otter thing, then you would like him too, I would wager.”
“Oh, yes,” Catherine agreed. “I think she likes him anyway but cannot admit to it because of her beloved otters.”
“That mill will bring some work to the village. Sir Smythe was saying there were quite a few men looking forward to the opportunity. It’s not easy to find work in remote areas like this,” Nicholas pointed out.
“Well, yes...” Julia stumbled over her words. “But the otters...they need their home. And besides, there must be other ways of making money and creating jobs.”
The truth was, although it had been mentioned, she had not even thought of the work it might create. She had been so fixated on saving the otters. Was she the only person in Hampshire who did not admire him? It appeared even her sisters liked him now.
They made their way into town and paused to talk to a few acquaintances. They no longer needed to get new cards for Emma so they stopped by the haberdashery for new ribbons and Nicholas went into the chandlery to order more candles for the house. The four of them waited outside while he did his dealings.
“Is that not Lord Weston’s dog?” Emma asked.
Julia peered up the road and saw that it was indeed Roo, bounding down the street. He had a long line of sausages in his mouth and the butcher was running after him. Roo streaked past them so quickly that there was no chance any of them could make him stop.
Catherine laughed. “Oh goodness, that dog does love sausages.”
Julia grinned. “He is naughty but charming.”
“A little like a certain man we know.” Catherine nudged her with an elbow.
“She means Lord Weston,” Emma whispered to Amelia.
“He paid quite a bit of attention to you, Julia,” Amelia commented. “I thought he was quite charming but I did note a slightly naughty glint in his eyes. He has the look of a reformed rake.”
“Just because you write about men and women and love does not mean you know everything about them,” Julia commented. “I do not think he is a reformed anything.”
She closed her mouth as Stephen came dashing up to them. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a dog, have you?” He sucked in a breath and rested his hand against the building. “A stupid, ugly-looking mutt?”
“We have indeed,” said Amelia. “He was heading that way.” She pointed in the direction Roo had been running.
“Thank you, ladies.” Stephen took off after the dog.
They waited until he was out of earshot before laughing. Catherine shook her head. “That dog is a mischief.”
“The brother is handsome, is he not?” Amelia mused.
“He will be one day. But he is too young for any of us,” Emma said. “He is only seventeen.”
Amelia lifted her brows. “He looks older.”
“He acts older too from what I hear,” Catherine said.
Julia frowned. “What do you hear?”
“Flora says he has debts in London and that he lost a lot of money at The King’s Crown not long ago. That was what the fight was about. Lord Weston was defending his brother.”
“You need to stop listening to gossip,” Amelia scolded. “You shall turn into Mama.”
Catherine clapped a hand to her chest. “Heaven forbid!”
Nicholas emerged from the chandlery and put his hat back on. “Well, that is all done. Shall we return home, ladies?” He offered Amelia his arm.
“We are all finished, I think.” Amelia looped her arm through his and cuddled in close to him.
Julia ignored Emma and Catherine as they continued to share gossip about Guy and his brother. Could it be that he had a good reason for fighting? And that the debt was not his after all? Or was it simply that Stephen had learned all he knew about terrible behavior from his brother?
Oh, she wished she did not even care.
Chapter Ten
Julia stared at the darkened ceiling for a moment and scowled. She blinked several times to remove the fatigue from her eyes. What exactly had awoken her?
“Mama do not answer it!” screeched Catherine. “It could be a robber.”
With a groan, Julia forced herself up out of bed and wrapped herself in a robe and pressed her feet into slippers. A bang rattled through the house and she understood what had awoken her now. In her dream, it had been something else entirely. Some muddled images of mills being hammered together while she was torn between kissing Guy and pushing him into the river.
The bang came again and footsteps echoed through the house. She could hear Emma now but her voice was muffled. In the dark, Julia opened the door and hastened downstairs to find her sisters and mother huddled around one lone candle in the hallway.
