Chapter 10

Ten

J ulia could not help but hum a merry tune as she walked beside Lady Celia on their way to breakfast. Last night had changed her. Charles's touch erased her past hurts and made her look toward her future.

"You certainly are happy this morning." Lady Celia observed.

Julia smiled. "Indeed, I am."

"May I inquire about what has put you in such high spirits?" She linked her arm through Julia's.

Julia desperately wanted to confess what she'd experienced to Lady Celia, but knew it wouldn't be proper. She could never breathe a word of it to anyone, lest she be ruined. "No reason in particular, I simply awoke with a spring in my step."

"Well, I am pleased you did. It is refreshing to see you happy." Lady Celia tilted her head. "Dare I believe you have settled in here at Huntington Park?"

"Indeed, I have." Julia caught sight of Charles as he rounded the corner toward the breakfast room. Her heart did a little somersault, her belly fluttering. She offered a wide smile as he approached.

"Good morning, ladies." He dropped a kiss on his sister's cheek. "Might I steal Miss Julia away? I require a word with her."

Something about his tone, the cool regard in his voice, set Julia on edge. Perhaps she imagined it.

"Of course." Lady Celia released her arm, but not before exchanging an odd glance with Charles.

"I will have a word with you later," he said to Lady Celia before offering his arm to Julia.

She accepted, not at all sure what she would say or do once Lady Celia left them alone. One thing seemed abundantly clear—Charles did not share her euphoria. She'd not imagined the coolness of his tone any more than she was imagining his stiff, formal treatment at this very moment. She glanced at the wallpaper, following the pattern of silver swirls with her gaze.

"If doing so pleases you, brother." Celia pushed a wayward lock of hair from her cheek, then sashayed into the breakfast room.

Julia's stomach grumbled at the savory scents of bacon, scones, and eggs drifting from the room as Charles led her across the hall into a tiny room, then closed the door behind them.

He must have brought her into a storage room of sorts, for nothing hung on the walls, nor was there any furniture other than a row of trunks along the far wall. She pressed her lips together waiting for him to speak.

Charles placed his thumb and forefinger at his temples and massaged for a moment before exhaling a deep breath. "Last night…."

She met his shadowed blue gaze, her heart sinking more by the second. "Do go on."

He turned to face the far wall. "I never should have taken advantage of your innocence."

Outrage filled her and she rushed forward, tugging his shoulder to make him face her. "You did no such thing. I wanted everything you gave."

He shook his head. "Be that as it may, I had no right. You are an innocent under my protection. I never should have touched you."

Panic set her heart racing. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel guilty. "Don't say such things. I am as much to blame as you are. Furthermore, I regret nothing."

His eyes flashed and he pulled her into his arms kissing her deeply.

Almost as fast as his lips came upon hers, he pushed her away, leaving her staring at him, bewildered. She did not know whether to laugh or cry as he walked to the door. His denial of the pull between them certainly was laughable, but there was nothing humorous about his words.

"This cannot continue. I am leaving for London within the hour." He met her gaze, a tangle of emotions trailing through his eyes…passion, regret, longing, anger. "I want you to forget what we shared. I intend to do the same."

Crestfallen, she stood shaking as he pulled open the door and disappeared into the hallway beyond. She'd never forget and, after the goodbye kiss he'd given her, she'd wager he never would either. She may be innocent, but she was far from ignorant. They'd shared something special from the moment she'd run into his arms outside Madame Lavonia's house of ill repute

Julia inhaled a sharp breath, smoothed her skirts, and squared her shoulders. This was not over—far from it, in fact, if she had anything to say about it.

C harles entered his office and went straight to the sideboard, pouring a tumbler full of Scotch and knocking it back in one drink. He'd not slept a wink last night for thinking about Julia. The way she'd melted under his touch, the sound of his name on her sweet lips—it was maddening. He wanted little more than to possess her.

Even this morning, when he had his mind set on putting distance between them, he'd not been able to stop himself from taking her into his arms. Devil take him. She'd gotten under his skin. He'd even considered taking her as his mistress, but ultimately cast the idea aside. After all, she was still chaste and deserved more than spending her life as his plaything.

Pouring another Scotch, he moved to the bell pull and tugged. He needed only a word with Celia before he departed. By the time he returned, Julia would no longer consume his every thought.

One of his footmen appeared in the doorway. "Your Grace?"

"Tell my sister I am awaiting an audience with her." Charles moved to sit behind his desk, a fresh tumbler in his hand. Despite Celia's cheekiness, he knew full well she'd been waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

He did not have to wait long for her to burst into his office and plop into the chair across from his desk. He drained his drink, then placed his elbows on the mahogany surface of his desk and leaned forward. "You get two questions. Go."

Celia smirked. "I need only one." Mischief lit her eyes as she studied him. "What is afoot between you and Miss Julia?"

"Nothing."

"You are telling a falsehood. Your eye is twitching." She narrowed her gaze. "You fancy her."

Sisters were no doubt sent by the devil to punish brothers, and his knew him all too well. Still, he attempted to lie. "My eye is twitching because you have been annoying me for days. Even now, you are testing my nerves."

"Only because I am right. You want her for your own. Admit it." Celia pointed her finger at him. "You never could tell me falsehoods, Charles."

He exhaled, attempting to buy himself a moment's time to gather his wits. He had to tell Celia something, otherwise she would never cease hounding him. "Very well, I find Miss Julia attractive, but that is not to say I desire her for myself."

"Because you fear she would not have you."

"She would have me if I were marriage-minded."

Celia's grin widened at his mistake. Bloody hell, he'd given her all she needed in those nine words to discern the truth of things.

"How can you be so sure?" The victorious expression she wore told him no answer was needed.

"What woman would not want a duke? I am wealthy, titled, and most ladies find me pleasant enough to look at." He scrambled to cover his misstep. "I am a catch."

Celia huffed in amusement. "Does that twitch in your eye bother you?"

"You already used your two questions." He massaged his eyelid. "Now pay me mind, for I am serious." He locked his gaze with hers. "You are not to meddle in my affairs. Miss Julia is your companion and that is what she will stay."

"How very bird-witted of you. I am not blind. I saw the way you both acted this morning, and your words provided further proof. Something happened between the two of you and I have no doubt she is smi?—"

"Nothing happened. I am warning you, Celia, drop this theory of yours at once." He peered back at her. "Swear to me you will."

She rolled her eyes, something she reserved only for him. "Very well. If it is your desire to be ignorant, I cannot stop you."

"Promise?"

"I already said I would leave it alone." She rose from her chair. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have letters to write."

Charles stood too. "One more thing. I am leaving within the hour."

"You cannot! My come out is but three days away." She pouted the way she used to as a child. "And what of Christmastide?"

"Do stop with the theatrics," he said. "I have to go away, but I will return in time to present you to society and enjoy the holiday with my family." He came around his desk and took her hands. "Promise."

"For what reason do you have to leave Huntington Park and travel to London during the holiday recess? No one important is in the city." She studied him through wide eyes, her lips pressed into a straight line.

"Parliamentary business. I have to speak with someone who resides full time in London." He released her hands and turned for the door, grateful his twitch had not given him away yet again.

"You cannot out-run true love."

Charles stiffened. Love had nothing to do with anything, only lust. Pure animalistic desire for a beautiful woman—nothing more. Certainly nothing a little space could not cure.

Celia breezed past him and into the hall before glancing back. "You shall see."