Page 68 of The Lady is Trouble
He shoved off the bed. “I promised myself no child should suffer as I did.Ever. This gift could be inherited. And the first time, I didn’t—”
“Withdraw, I know. I begged you not to.” Her menses were regular, and she had a fair idea of safe timing, but she guessed this information would not be well taken. “Good news is, the other two times you did.”
He kicked a canvas that had so impolitely gotten in his way as he strode back to the window, where he knocked aside the drape and peered into the darkness. “You have to be back before dawn. I realize the cat is out of the damned bag, but let’s pretend for the lower house staff, at least.”
“And then?” she asked and gave the sheet a hard twist. Their agreement had only been for one night, but she’d requested it include breakfast.
“And then I force myself to look at you as something other than a delectable treat I pour over my waffle.”
A laugh burst from her. “What?”
He studied her without comment, the silence split only by a log in the hearth disintegrating with a snap. Oh, those eyes of his; they were her absolute weakness. As she observed, his aura shifted in her favor. She tried to keep the delight from her face but, then, his lips curved. He pressed them together, but the smile grew, spreading across his face like the most recalcitrant ray of sunlight. “Idiocy,” he whispered.
At last, he moved toward her, his expression a multi-faceted jewel, too many emotional edges to count.This. This revelation, this tenderness, was more intimate than anything they had shared.Thiswas knowing him.
The enormity frightened her even as she ran toward it.
Julian reached hesitantly, his fingers sliding along her jaw and into her hair. The smell of his skin sent need surging through her body. Her lids drifted on a sigh of recognition.
He made no move to deepen the caress, only laid his lips on her brow as her mind teemed with impassioned images.
It was as if the kiss signaled a farewell.
And then she knew…
He didn’t love her enough, and she loved him too much.
Julian survived fifty-two hours without a decision being forced on him.
Fifty-two hours comprised of two sleepless nights in the lodge, hisrefuge, where Piper lingered like one of Simon’s ghosts. Her likeness resided on a hundred sketches and more than one incomplete canvas—as if the scent of her clinging to his sheets were not enough. The smell of lavender was making him wonder if he was losing his mind and his senses.
Consequently, when she burst into his study in the main house two days later, it was no surprise he lost all thought.
She halted in the doorway, her cheeks gaining color in a rapid manner spelling disaster any way you read it. With a glance at the group assembled in the room, Julian struggled to compose a rationale for a meeting of the League, impromptu though it may be, without her. As he’d promised to alert her to the next one, etcetera, etcetera. But his voice departed, his throat going dry. Her hair was down, the ragged ends trailing her shoulder, and he could only recall brushing it for her before they’d left the lodge.
As intimate a thing as he’d ever done in his life.
The memory sent a blisteringly poignant rejoinder through him, one that burned any defense he might construct to a crisp.
Humphrey coughed beneath his breath, one brow winging high. Finn slouched in his chair until the cracked leather had to be pressed against his spine, his grin graceful and cunning.
Julian shook his head, clearing it.Waffle, he imagined them thinking.
“This isn’t exactly what it looks like,” he confessed, ignoring Humphrey’s sigh and Finn’s snort. Dear God,thatisn’t how he should have started.
Piper stepped into the study, and Julian swore the smell of cheroots and brandy disappeared to be replaced by the honeyed scent of lilacs. Cut grass. Earth. She’d been in the garden. He kept his gaze trained on her darkening-to-emerald eyes, ignoring the urge to check her skirt for stray bits of straw he could brush away for her.
She closed the door with a snap and leaned against it. “Your Grace,” she said with a wispy curtsy for the Duke of Ashcroft, who’d requested the spontaneous meeting upon his arrival. Hence the damned gathering, thrown together inminutes, Julian would love to tell her.
Ashcroft turned from his study of the bookcase and a row of leather-bound volumes on the occult, popping the one in his hand back in its slot with a fragile smile. The dark slashes beneath his eyes attested to his inner turmoil, something Julian was sure Piper would notice. He hoped the sight of her did not elicit a ball of flame from the man’s fingers.
As every breath in the room held suspended, the Duke bowed with all the crispness of his station, as if they stood in a crowded ballroom. “Lady Scott, again, a pleasure.” Then he must have appreciated the ludicrousness of the entire episode as he threw himself in the lyre chair by the bookcase, the brass casters sending it into a wild spin.
Piper’s gaze lit on her maid, sitting in the corner with a mildly abashed expression. Edward loomed next to Minnie, his regard wandering the room like an eager puppy trying to figure out who was taking him for a walk. Finally, Piper noticed Simon, on the floor by Finn’s feet, managing a deck of cards like a sharper of the first order. The boy glanced to his side too frequently for it to mean anything other than one of his apparitions was with him. Even Henry was in the room, licking his privates without a hint of concern.
Julian tensed, preparing for the blow before it hit.Hmm,I really should have found the courage to round her up for this.
Fury darkened her eyes, her lips tightening to contain the vitriol that would have come spewing out if not for the oddity of a person one notch below a prince being in their presence. Julian rubbed at a streak of yellow paint on his wrist and sought to ignore the speaking glancethataction got him.