Chapter 13

"My errors will point to thinking men the various roads, and will teach them the great art of treading on the brink of the precipice without falling into it."

Giacomo Casanova

Julius was confused. Utterly baffled. His desire to embrace Audrey close against him, to sniff her herbal scent, savor her warm skin, bury his face in her hair, were all fresh impulses.

This is what comes of bedding a woman I admire.

He had assisted her to clean up, and himself, before drawing her back into his bed. Patrick and Rose were discreet, but for sure, they knew that he and Audrey were up to inappropriate activities with the amount of time they had spent alone. It was inevitable they would tumble into bed.

Holding her close to his pounding heart, Julius listened to her breathing as she slipped into a satiated sleep. The desire to nibble on her shoulder for another round of lovemaking was stomped with ruthless determination. She might be a brave warrior of a delicate girl, but even so, she needed to recover from her deflowering.

Deflowering?

Julius wanted to howl. He had always made a point of pursuing experienced women—widows, for the most part—not chosen for their intellectual abilities or strength of character. Women adept in bed and willing to experiment with a variety of positions. He could not recollect bedding a single woman whom he had ardently admired or desired to spend time conversing with. The dangers of love were an ever-present horror, his parents a cautionary tale of which he was frequently reminded.

Audrey let out a small, bleating snort in her sleep, shifting closer so her buttocks rubbed against his groin in an intoxicating caress. Julius shivered in aroused despair.

This is a bleeding disaster.

He had known intuitively it would be a mistake to engage in carnal relations with Audrey. He liked her too much. Not only had he dragged her into a dangerous intrigue, he had destroyed her reputation. Her presentation of the French letter at least assured him she did not have unreasonable expectations regarding him, but he had yet to break the news that they would marry.

Audrey was not a typical female. He believed she would be displeased. That she would resist a marriage in name only. If she had not been ruined, she might have moved back to Stirling and eventually met a gentleman. Settled down and had babes of her own. That was an impossibility, considering she had disappeared with a man for a week. Not just any man—him. No one would believe that he had not had his way with her multiple times during their absence.

Nay, there is no alternative.

Truth was, he did not care for the image of Audrey married to another. As selfish as it might be for him to want her to himself while maintaining his distance, he could not help the possessiveness. Audrey was his—dash it!

Julius was not accustomed to feeling such a riot of conflicting emotions in the wake of one of his escapades, but he was forced to admit that his daft plan had led to terrible consequences for the young lady sleeping in his arms. Yet … somehow … he could not find an iota of regret that he was holding her naked body.

Perhaps they could spend a few weeks together at the start of their marriage? Perhaps he could ensure she had a babe in her belly before he escorted her home to Stirling? Perhaps she would be less angry with him if she had a child to take care of?

Julius groaned into his pillow. What a bloody tangle. He was not accustomed to dealing with consequences, nor to the obligation to consider the needs of another. Audrey had slipped under his skin and—heaven forfend—he now cared about her and desired a happy future for her.

This is a bleeding disaster!

Carefully removing his arm from under her, he rolled out of bed to don his small clothes and buckskins. None of his ideas about their shared future were sitting right. He needed to find a better resolution but, in his experience, it needed to be set aside until later. The situation would work itself out, he concluded.

Holding the oil lamp from beside his bed, Julius padded barefoot out of the chamber, careful not to disturb the sleeping beauty in his bed. He strode down the hall to find the stairs, descending with the inkling of a memory niggling in his brain. Heading into the library with the outline of an idea forming. It would not assist him with the predicament he faced with Audrey, but it might be progress in the investigation. There was danger lurking in the shadows, and it was time to resolve the minor matter of murder. He had to secure Audrey's safety. It was premature to concern himself with the rest.

Julius put the lamp down on a library table, the light revealing a more recent portrait of Aunt Gertrude than the one that hung in the portrait gallery. She wore her hair in a more recent fashion, and a jaunty turban added a splash of color to the ensemble.

Aunty Gertrude peered down her nose with an expression of reproach.

Julius winced. He was supposed to put aside the dilemma he faced with the physician's daughter, not be fighting off a stabbing guilt over his despicable behavior.

"We will wed. I will provide her the protection of my name, Aunty."

Lady Hays continued to stare.

"I swear it! I will take care of the young lady. She will not want for anything."

It might have been his imagination, but Lady Hays sniffed in disgust. Egad, he hated disappointing his great-aunt. She would flail him alive if she knew he had deflowered Audrey under her own roof without even a betrothal contract in place. He was the worst kind of rascal for not securing an agreement to wed before engaging in carnal relations.

Julius shook his head, determined to set the matter aside. Walking over to a nearby shelf, he found an older copy of Debrett's Peerage and brought it back to the table, thunking it down hard on the surface to help focus his attention.

Taking his seat, he bent over its pages, leafing through to look up the heritage of the three men he had been investigating. He and Abbott had attended a myriad of dinners, soirées, even a musicale and a ball to learn what they could about their suspects. Julius had a vague memory of attending a soirée at one of the homes of the suspects. At the time he had noted the old style of the livery uniforms—deep blue and gold-braided coats with shoulder knots, knee breeches and, more important, he seemed to recollect that the servants' uniforms had possessed a unique feature. When one of the footmen had turned a corner, the tails of his coat had flittered up and Julius had caught sight of a patterned lining. A brief impression of green and blue.

Leafing through the book, he flipped to the entry he wished to read. Julius whistled through his teeth, realizing that the mystery was falling into place.

I think we found our man!

Audrey woke up,stretching her limbs out, and gradually noted the coolness of the sheets. She frowned, reaching out to where Julius had lain behind her and finding an empty space.

The room was dark, and she realized he must have extinguished the lamp. Sitting up, she pushed her hair back and clutched the sheet to her bosom with a befuddled head and a disappointed heart.

She knew their time was ending, but she had been savoring her one night in his arms. There had been a vague hope that perhaps they might make love one more time before she faced her fate. Something a little less ignominious than her initial deflowering. Something to remember when she returned alone to Stirling to the house she had inherited from her father.

Audrey's throat thickened, and she blinked away the tears forming. She had known the risks of accompanying Julius to take care of him the day he had been stabbed. And she had known that Julius was a free spirit. She was not so conceited to believe that she could tame one like him. It still stung to wake up alone.

Had he enjoyed their time together?

Had she satisfied him as a man?

Would there be one last opportunity to feel his firm lips on hers?

Audrey jumped out of her skin when the door swung open, revealing Julius in the light of the oil lamp in his hand. Her hungry gaze devoured his half-naked form, his wide shoulders and narrow hips in silhouette, and she found she was both pleased he had returned and shy.

"I think I know who did it!" he announced, swinging the door shut behind him and striding over to the bed. "Now we just need to confirm it!"

Audrey pushed her hair from her face as Julius sat on the bed next to her, the mattress sagging under his weight. He put the oil lamp down on the table beside the bed, holding up a leather-bound book for her to see.

"Simon Scott!"

She tried to focus her thoughts. "Scott?"

"Simon Scott is the younger brother of Lord Blackwood, but they do not share the same mother. Lord Blackwood and his second brother Peter were issue from their Sussex-born mother, who appears to have died in childbirth based on the dates in Debrett's. Their father, John Scott, went on to marry another woman who died without children before he married his third wife who is a wealthy peeress from Scotland—Lady Isla Scott was Lady Isla Campbell and she is a Scottish viscountess!"

Audrey leaned forward to peer to where he was pointing at the page. "So Simon Scott is descended from Campbells, but, as you said, there are infinite Campbells."

Julius threw her a triumphant grin. "But few who have a household of liveried servants whose coats are lined with Campbell tartan. This is a new fashion, to flaunt one's clanship amongst the beau monde, only begun within the last few years and only by a few. If the footmen's coats are lined with the pattern, they might have been provided overcoats with the same lining. The scoundrel who attempted to kill me might not have been dressed in livery in an attempt to hide his identity, but he might have used the only overcoat he possessed."

Audrey's mouth fell open. "Truly?"

"I saw the pattern myself at an event at Scott's home. Abbott and I latched onto a friend who was attending, and the tartan intrigued me. The name Scott should have been a clue, but I saw the tartan myself. Scott's mother runs his household, so she must have ordered the livery. I thought their whole appearance rather out of date, and Scott does not seem a man stuck in the last century, but his mother would have been young when this type of livery was in fashion. If Scott is a member of the Highland Society, she could have ordered the tartan as part of the design."

She nibbled on her lip, considering the revelation. "When you say his mother is a viscountess …"

Julius nodded, his lean face in profile. Audrey appreciated the straight nose, sculpted chin, and firm jaw before flickering down to … appreciate … the muscled shoulders she had gripped earlier when Julius had picked her up.

"I know it is odd, but many of the titles in Scotland are granted a remainder which allows females to inherit if there are no males to take the title. Isla is the oldest of four sisters."

Audrey blinked. "Stirling is far from the Scottish border, so I know little about our northern neighbors, but you seem to know quite a bit about a family so far from London."

"There was another volume." Julius pulled a second book from under his arm. "See, I found Isla's family in here."

"It is solved?"

Julius hesitated, pondering her question. "I suppose we need some sort of confirmation, but I think this points to the resolution. It is him. I feel it in my bones."

Which meant this was their final evening together, as she had suspected.

"So … there is nothing to be done this evening?" She was taken aback by the seductive tone of her question. Lud, she sounded like a fallen woman, but she was damned if she would waste a second of the time she had left with the outrageous Lord Trafford. This was her one night with him, and she would not waste it.

Julius must have noted the purring quality, licking his lips and tilting his head toward her. "I suppose not," he echoed in a suggestive tone.

"Good."

Audrey reached over to press her mouth to his, the fire in her belly reigniting. She brushed her palm down the slope of his back, letting the sheet drop to press her breasts against his arm. Julius groaned, biting at her lower lip to tug at it as he turned to lower her back on the bed.