Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

A fter riding for several hours, Julia's body ached, especially her buttocks, from being in the saddle for so long. The previous night, she had stopped at a small inn nestled in the rolling hills of the countryside, enjoying a hearty supper of steak and potatoes accompanied by a tankard of ale. She had grinned at the thought of someone from the ton seeing her disguised as a gentleman, her behavior entirely unbecoming of a lady. The inn had been cozy, with a roaring fire in the hearth and fresh bread wafting through the air. She had taken a room and rested, leaving early this morning as the sun rose over the horizon.

The countryside around her was breathtaking, with lush green fields stretching as far as the eye could see. The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the landscape, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and fresh earth. Small clusters of trees dotted the hills, their leaves rustling softly in the wind.

This was what she loved the most. Nature. Julia tugged on the reins and slipped from the horse, groaning at the ache in her muscles. She allowed the horse to wander freely as she stretched her legs, feeling the stiffness in her limbs begin to ease. It would be another four days before she reached Penporth, but for now, she reveled in the freedom of the open road.

She lifted her face to the evening sun, smiling as the warm rays caressed her skin. The world around her felt peaceful, serene—until a hard arm suddenly swept around her waist and lifted her off her feet. Shock rippled down her spine, and Julia screamed, only to have the sound abruptly smothered by a large hand covering her mouth.

"You might startle the horse into running," a familiar voice murmured in her ear.

As if on cue, the horse suddenly bolted, leaving her alone with the man who held her so effortlessly. Her mouth was freed, but before she could react, she was scooped up into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all. He whirled her around, and Julia found herself staring up into stormy silver eyes that were both furious and intense.

"You reckless hellion," Rafe snapped, his voice low and harsh. "Do you know what could have happened to you, traveling alone like this?"

"I have my blade," she retorted fiercely, struggling to gather her wits. "Why are you here? How did you—"

Before she could finish, he slammed his mouth onto hers, kissing her with a ravenous greed that immediately drowned her senses in a flood of shocking heat. The world around them vanished as her body responded to his, her heart racing, her breasts aching. When he finally lifted his head, her lips felt bruised, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"My lord—"

"I think it's time you called me Rafe … Julia," he said, his voice rough and possessive.

He lifted her effortlessly without warning and slung her atop his powerful black stallion. With impressive skill, Rafe vaulted up behind her, his strong arms slipping tightly around her waist as he urged the horse into a gallop. They didn't head toward Penporth but took a different path entirely.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, trying to calm her pounding heart.

"Kidnapping you," he replied, his tone dangerously calm.

Julia twisted in the saddle, turning her head to look up at him. The Earl of Ashton was as handsome as ever, his features chiseled and resolute, his eyes dark with determination. The wind tousled his dark hair, and the setting sun cast a golden hue over his tanned skin, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. There was an intensity about him, a raw energy that frightened and excited her.

"Do you mean to debauch me?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

This is madness. I have lost all of my good sense and forgotten all the lessons my sister-in-law taught me.

"Thoroughly," he said, his gaze unwavering.

She gasped, her eyes widening at his boldness. His expression had no humor, only a hard edge that told her he was deadly serious. Yet, beneath the anger, she sensed something more akin to desperation, as if he were fighting a battle within himself.

"If you force me," she said furiously, "to be your mistress, I will have my revenge. You won't see it coming, my lord, but you'll feel the pain of it."

A low, rough chuckle escaped him, vibrating through her body where they were pressed together.

"I believe you, Julia. But there will be no force. You will enjoy every bit of pleasure I give you—with my mouth, my fingers, and my cock."

His wicked, crude words were so arousing, so provocative, that they left her speechless. But not emotionless. A heated flush spread through her body, and she felt something hot and delicious coil low in her belly at the thought of his mouth on hers once more. She dared not think about what his fingers might do, though her body betrayed her, tingling with anticipation. Her sisters Penny and Phoebe had given her enough information about bedding to know exactly what he meant by "cock," and the thought of him using it on her sent a shiver down her spine.

"Bloody hell," she whispered, almost to herself.

"Why am I not surprised you curse?" he said dryly, amusement lacing his words.

Julia sniffed, refusing to dignify his comment with a response. Instead, she focused on the revenge thoughts swirling in her mind, taking some measure of comfort in them. Exhaustion crept over her, the long hours of travel finally taking their toll. Surely, that was the only reason she relaxed against his broad chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek. Slowly, the tension drained from her body, and before she knew it, she had slipped into a deep, comforting sleep, lulled by the rhythm of the horse's gallop and the warmth of the man holding her.

"Wake up," a soft voice murmured near her ear.

Julia stirred, blinking groggily as she stared up at a magnificent four-story manor that stood proudly against the night sky. The manor, both majestic and charming, was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, casting long shadows over the stone walls and ivy-covered turrets. The night was dark, but the sky above was sprinkled with stars, twinkling like diamonds in the vast expanse. As the cool night air brushed against her skin, recollection rushed through her, and with a gasp, she straightened, moaning softly as she felt the stiffness in her body.

"How long was I sleeping?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

"More than four hours," Rafe replied, his tone gentle. "I stopped a few times, and you didn't stir. You were exhausted."

"That's not possible," she murmured, though the evidence of her fatigue and trust in him was clear.

"Come, let me help you down."

Rafe dismounted and then reached up to assist her. As her feet touched the ground, her legs wobbled slightly, and he steadied her, his strong hands on her hips, pulling her gently against his solid frame. Julia's cheeks flushed at the closeness, the heat of his body seeping into her as she tried to regain her bearings. She looked up at the imposing manor, its tall windows reflecting the moonlight, casting a serene glow over the rolling lands that stretched out behind it. A large, still lake lay beyond the house, its surface like glass, reflecting the stars above. The estate was vast, with gently sloping hills and neatly trimmed hedges that framed the drive. It was the very picture of tranquility and power combined.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she took in the beauty around her.

"At my principal estate in Hertfordshire," Rafe replied, his tone calm yet holding an undertone of something more.

She jerked away from him, turning to face him fully. His expression remained composed, but there was a rather provoking gleam in his eyes, one that made her heart skip a beat. "We're at your country estate?"

"Yes."

"Why?" she asked, her heart beginning to race, her mind swirling with confusion and anticipation.

Rafe took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "To meet my daughters," he said, his voice steady and sure.

Julia's breath caught in her throat, shock rendering her speechless for a moment. She stared at him helplessly, her mind reeling. Before she could gather her thoughts, he gently brushed his mouth over hers, a tender, almost teasing kiss that sent a shiver of warmth through her.

"Julia," he murmured, his lips still close to hers, "will you marry me?"

Her eyes widened, and she stepped back slightly, trying to make sense of the sudden proposal.

"We hardly know each other," she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty, yet a fierce joy leaped inside her chest.

Rafe's gaze softened, though his resolve remained unshaken. "I entered the marriage mart because I wanted a mother for my daughters," he said, his tone persuasive yet sincere. "My father grew me to be an honorable man. What kind of cretin would I be to let you face society's unfair contempt after you so fearlessly rushed to save me. I cannot woo someone else while you reside in the ashes of ruin. Scandal is already roaring through the ton , and we are already inexplicably linked. Our marriage will make our families happy, and it will preserve their reputations—and ours."

"I doubt your family will be happy . Have you forgotten I am a Fairbanks?" Julia demanded shakily. Her throat felt tight, and Julia loathed the heaviness pressing against her heart. "So I understand you, the only reason you want to marry me is because of your duty to your children and your honor."

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers, and Julia felt the space between them shrink, the air charged with something she could not name. Rafe gently cradled her cheek, his touch warm and comforting.

"No. I like and admire you, Julia. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone. I desire you with such an intensity that even wooing another would be a discredit to myself and to that lady, for you are always in my thoughts."

"Can passion be the basis for any marriage?" she whispered achingly, wanting to lean into him and simply let him hold her.

"Many have married for less. If you agree, we will get married in the morning after you meet my daughters."

Julia's heart pounded as she looked up at him, her emotions a whirlwind she could barely comprehend. "How is that even possible?" she asked, her voice trembling. "How can we be married in the morning?"

Rafe's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "I have a marriage license in my pocket," he revealed, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of determination and affection.

Her breath caught as realization dawned on her. Julia knew it took a few days to procure a special license, and it would have her name on it as it was not a common marriage license. The earl planned to marry her even before she had run from London, even before the scandal broke in society. Even if it was to save her reputation, he had taken the necessary steps. Her heart lodged in her throat, and emotions she barely understood burned through her, leaving her feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet intensity. "Yes, I will marry you."

Julia leaned into him and brushed her lips over the underside of his jaw. A soft shudder went through his frame, and she heard him swallow. Smiling, she turned around and walked toward the glorious manor that would soon be her new home.