Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

E very thought seemed to disappear, leaving only the feeling of pleasure. The kiss was everything Julia had imagined and nothing like she had expected—gentle and fierce, tender and consuming as if he were claiming a part of her she had not known was his to take. Julia's hands crept to his shoulders and tightened as if they belonged to another creature. She did not push Mr. Sinclair away, nor did she hug him any closer. Instead, she let herself be swept away, caught in the tide of sensations she had never known she could feel. Perhaps this was how it should be, her first kiss with a stranger who had no expectations of ladylike perfection.

At first, his mouth on hers was soft … soothing even. His tongue barely ghosted over her mouth and then he was coaxing her lips open more. Then his tongue slipped inside her mouth to tangle with hers with sensuality until he was taking her mouth with deep, arousing kisses. A wicked heat flared low in Julia's belly. She whimpered and he swallowed the sound, holding her even tighter against his body. There was a hardness between their bodies, which she knew to be his arousal. When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless, the night air cool against her flushed skin.

"By God, you taste so damn sweet," he murmured, his voice rough and low against her lips. "Come home with me."

Shock cascaded over her senses, and Julia stared at him almost helplessly. "Your home?"

He smoothed a thumb along the curve of her lower lip. "I promise for the rest of the night you will not feel empty or bored. I will make you scream and writhe with pleasure. And when it is over, I will start again until dawn."

"You scoundrel," she gasped, hating that it sounded more like a breathless, aroused murmur. Inexplicably, tears burned her throat. "Please, release me, sir."

Mr. Sinclair's arms vanished from around her waist, and he stepped back, raking his fingers through his hair. "You want me, and I want you."

Julia shook her head, still feeling dazed by her reaction to his kiss and closeness. "Is this … is this how trysts are formed? A chance encounter, a moment, and then you expect a woman to tumble into your bed and hand over her virtue. You, sir, are a rake !"

He reared back as if she had slapped him, and she felt the slash of his gaze over her body as he stared at her.

"By God, you are a lady of quality."

The disbelief in his tone stung. Julia sniffed. "You sound as if you have seen a mythical creature. Is it a notion that is improbable that I might be a lady, Mr. Sinclair?"

"Bloody hell," he growled. "You are here alone at night in Hyde Park. Being so free-spirited … I assumed … you to be a lady with experience."

Julia swallowed tightly, sudden mortification burning through her. "I suppose that confirms I am a woman of questionable morals who should be invited for a romp?"

She gasped at his silence. "You insufferable prig ! You were the one that kissed me, Mr. Sinclair. I did not invite your embrace."

"Your very presence is an invitation to wickedness," he snapped, his tone low and hard. "Your enthusiasm for my embrace pushed me to make my foolish assumption that you would be willing to indulge in a night of hot passion. I am sorry."

Hating the prick of tears behind her eyes, and that her first kiss—so gloriously pleasurable—now felt as if she had done something wrong, she cloaked her dignity around her like armor, whirled around, picked up her knife and walked away from him. Mr. Sinclair did not stop Julia or call out to her, and she was grateful. Still, she felt his stare upon her shoulders until the shadows of the night swallowed her.

Several minutes later, she walked to the parked carriage. The coachman straightened, knocked down the steps, and opened the door. Julia climbed into the equipage, resting her head against the squabs. It was nonsensical to feel so wretched over their encounter when she might never see Mr. Sinclair again. Closing her eyes, she determinedly refused to think about him, and directed her thoughts to her darling niece Lily whom she would spend the day with tomorrow.

When the carriage finally arrived at her brother Colin's townhouse, despite her best efforts, Julia's heart still raced with the memory of the kiss, mingled with the confusion and embarrassment of how it had ended. She slipped out of the carriage and into the house, moving quietly through the dimly lit hallway, hoping not to disturb anyone. She could only hope that Colin was not still awake.

Her hopes were dashed when she saw the light seeping out from beneath the library door. With a soft sigh, she walked to the slightly ajar door, pushed it open and stepped inside, where she found her brother seated in an armchair, a book resting in his hands. At least it was not like how she found him this morning with her sister-in-law Hermina wrapped in his arms as they passionately kissed.

"I thought you would be at your White's?"

Colin's gaze lifted. "You are finally home," he said, his tone even but his eyes sharp. "Richard and Poppy only left a few minutes ago. It seemed you escaped their chaperonage and did not let your brother know where you were going. Such actions are quite unlike yourself. I was beginning to worry."

"I …" Julia sighed and tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. "I shall explain when I understand it myself."

Her brother's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her appearance. "Is all well, Julia? Are you hurt?"

Colin's voice was gentle, but there was an edge of concern that made her heart twist with guilt. Julia fidgeted with the folds of her gown, knowing she must look a sight, with her hair tumbling down and her gown wrinkled from her adventurous trek up and down the tree.

"No, I am not hurt. I apologize, Colin. I coaxed the coachman to take me to the park instead of coming straight home after the ball. I should not have departed Lady Nelson's home as if the devil chased me. Well, perhaps he did," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I felt the walls of the crushed ballroom closing in on me, and I thought I would scream at the inanity of the conversation I was a part of. Rushing away seemed the sensible choice at the moment. Only, once I started running, I did not stop until I was high on a branch in the park staring at the stars."

A sigh escaped him, and Colin leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "Julia, you know how dangerous that could have been. Hyde Park is not a place for a lady to wander alone at night. I or Richard or Nicholas would have been happy to accompany you."

His tone was not harsh, but there was a weariness in it that made her feel even worse. She nodded, her throat tightening with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite name.

"I am sorry, Colin. However, my sisters got to be a little bit wicked without you hovering. Allow me the same freedom."

Shock slackened his jaw. "What?"

Her mouth quirked. "Did you believe I had not realized all the time Lizzy, Ester, Emma, Ellie, Fanny or Penny and Phoebe snuck from this house?" Julia laughed, shaking her head. "I am soon to be one and twenty, Colin. I have my good wits about me, and all the lessons on how to disarm a rogue, and my blade that James gifted me. I am safe. Though I promise I will not run away like that again."

Once, their family teased her older sister Ellie that she was only slightly wicked for she never had any scandals following her. Julia thought as the youngest sibling out of twelve, they protected and cosseted her far too much, without any expectations that she would behave in the manner that pushed some from society to refer to them as bad Fairbanks.

Colin rose from the chair and crossed the room to her, his expression softening as he cupped her cheek with one hand.

"I beg you to spare my heart from too much naughtiness."

She laughed. "I shall try. I make no promises."

His eyes widened, and she understood because it was very unlike her. Of all her brothers and sisters, Julia was the only person who enjoyed Hermina and the old dragon's lessons on etiquette and propriety.

He pressed a light kiss to her forehead, the gesture filled with the quiet affection that had always existed between them. "Goodnight, little sister."

"Goodnight, Colin," she murmured.

She watched him leave the library, the door closing softly behind him, before she let out a long, shuddering breath. The guilt that had been gnawing at her since she left Mr. Sinclair in the park seemed to ebb slightly. Julia's feet carried her almost of their own accord to the music room, a place where she often found solace. The soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains cast a peaceful light over the pianoforte, and she moved toward it, her fingers trailing lightly over the keys before she sat down on the bench.

She hesitated only for a moment before beginning to play, the familiar notes soothing her frayed nerves. The melody she chose was soft and wistful, reflecting the longing that had been keeping her awake for the last few weeks.

What if she were the only one of the Fairbanks siblings to never find love?

As her fingers moved over the keys, her thoughts drifted back to the park, to Mr. Sinclair, and to the kiss that had left her breathless and shaken. Despite everything—the confusion, the hurt, the mortification—the memory of Mr. Sinclair's kiss, the feel of his lips on hers, was imprinted on her mind, and she knew it was something she would not easily forget.

As the final notes of the melody faded into the stillness of the room, Julia let out a long, shaky breath. She closed the lid of the pianoforte gently, rising from the bench. A quick glance at the clock on the mantle revealed it was three in the morning. The night had felt especially long, and she was utterly exhausted. Julia moved slowly, almost dreamlike, as she made her way to her room. Once inside, she stripped off her clothes and tumbled into bed, the cool sheets soothing her tired body. She lay there, naked, hugging the pillow to her chest as she closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

The silence of her brother's townhouse enveloped her, a stark contrast to the lively home it had once been. For so long, the halls had vibrated with laughter, shouts, and even the occasional bark of a mischievous puppy when they had all resided there. She remembered the nights when she shared a room with Penny and Phoebe, their whispered conversations stretching late into the night as they shared dreams, secrets, and hopes for the future.

A lump formed in Julia's throat as the memories washed over her, and she found herself wishing desperately that one of her sisters was with her now. If only she could confide in them, ask them if the promise of something more she had felt in Mr. Sinclair's kiss—something she could neither grasp nor fully understand—was real. Was it that indefinable spark in her imagination, or was there truly something deeper that she had let disappear before she truly understood?

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the thoughts that swirled in her mind. Julia hoped that sleep would come quickly, that it would pull her under and offer some respite from the heated memories of the night. Perhaps in the morning she would have the answers she sought, and that kiss and all that it implied would make more sense.