Chapter Fourteen

London

February 1, 1861

A wash with sunlight and laughter, the Tilneys' London townhouse seemed to Julius the perfect setting for his and Augusta's wedding breakfast. Now that the ceremony at St. George's was over, he could hopefully relax and enjoy his wedding day.

Of course, Julius had never been prouder or humbler than when Augusta had stared lovingly into his face and repeated her vows without a single hesitation. The look of pure joy in her expression made his heart stutter so violently, he almost couldn't repeat his own vows. He'd heard the phrase "my cup runneth over" but not until that moment had he truly understood it. Today he was by far the luckiest man alive.

"What are you daydreaming about, my love?" Augusta cocked her head, a mischievous look on her face. "Or do I truly need to ask?" The saucy look she gave him set him to thinking about the coming night with Augusta in his bed beside him—or underneath him—all night long. No, he'd best not think of that, else he'd tent his trousers.

The past two weeks had been incredibly long, as he and Augusta had been forbidden to be alone together ever since being discovered en dishabille in Grandfather's cabin. He only hoped Augusta never found out that he'd suggested to Uncle Hugh that a final hunting party of the season would be just the way to finished off Yule's wedding festivities. Nor that he'd suggested her father might enjoy being part of the party. Not that Julius believed Lord Tilney enjoyed finding his daughter and her lover all but in the throes, still the ultimate goal—today's nuptial celebration—had been worth the recriminations and the scoldings from their families, and the black looks he'd gotten from Augusta. Those had lasted only until he'd stolen a few moments on the ride back to Grandfather's to stop the horses and kiss her senseless. A long conversation had ensued as they walked the horses home, in which he'd suggested a speedy marriage would afford them all the time in the world to play as they had in the cabin. After that she quieted down and plans for their marriage proceeded apace.

Sadly, that stolen kiss was the only intimacy they'd been able to snatch for the past two weeks as the plans for the wedding had gone forward. After producing the special license as promised, Julius had been summoned back to Grandfather's house in Norfolk and kept there cooling his heels, pining for Augusta until yesterday when he'd been allowed to rejoin the crowd in London—with Francis as his watchdog. That was now all in the past. He and Augusta were married and about to embark on a lifetime together.

"No, my love, I don't think you need to ask at all. Because I suspect it is what you have been thinking about as well." Julius took her hand and kissed the palm, letting his mouth linger there.

"I have been thinking that it's almost time to cut the cake, Julius." She laughed and drew her hand away, slowly. "Somehow I doubt that is what you were thinking just now."

Before he could answer that, Emma came running up to them, her cheeks quite pink. "Augusta, you must come. The bridesmaids want to begin their games and you must be there." She glanced at Julius and grinned. "No husbands allowed, I regret to say, Julius."

"You may steal her away only for a moment, my dear." He gave his bride a searing look. "We have unfinished business to attend to."

"I'm sure you do, my lord. Come, Augusta." Emma grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the doorway to the main receiving room.

"Good afternoon, ladies." Francis approached just as the two headed out the door. "I say, old chap. Someone's run off with your bride if I'm not mistaken."

"Quite all right, Francis." Julius's gaze lingered on Augusta's retreating figure. "I know where to find her." He clamped his hand onto his brother's shoulder. "My grateful thanks again for standing as best man."

Francis shrugged. "What are twin brothers for, if not that? I just wanted to say congratulations again." He lifted the glass of champagne he was holding. "You managed to pull off a feat to rival Alex's marriage less than ten days after meeting Emma."

"What do you mean?" Julius pulled out his pocket watch. He and Augusta had to leave in plenty of time to catch their ship that would sail at six o'clock this evening. It was only half-past two now, but he couldn't wait to be completely alone with his wife for the first time in a very long fortnight.

"No one would have wagered you'd end up married to Lady Augusta, Jules. Not after she refused you time after time." Francis shook his head, a smile playing over his lips. "We were beginning to wager on how many times you would propose before throwing in the sponge."

"And who was keeping the book on these bets?" Julius wasn't certain whether to be more indignant over the wager or about another cousin taking over his duty with the book. "I certainly wasn't."

"Tom."

"God." Julius shuddered. "That must have been a right mess." He gave his brother a hard stare. "How many times did you put down?"

Francis grinned. "Eight. I know you better than the others, you see. I knew you'd continue until she married somebody."

"And eight seemed a good choice to you?" Julius didn't know whether to be peeved or amused.

"Eight's my lucky number." Francis gave him a sly look and downed his drink. "We were born on the eighth of October, we have eight in our immediate family, and I was born eight minutes after you. Thank you." He set his glass down as a footman passed by with a tray of empty glasses. "Or so Father claims."

"Why do you deem that lucky?" Julius had always wondered why his twin wasn't more jealous, considering that eight minutes had cost him a title, position, and wealth.

"Because then I would have been named Julius, and that would have been too much of a cross to bear." Francis ducked as Julius swung at him.

"I may be an old married man, Francis, but I can still thrash your arse any day of the week."

The two sparred playfully until their mother hurried over.

"I should not need to tell you two to stop this behavior at once. And on your wedding day, Julius." Mother gave them her sternest look—that melted into an embrace of her eldest son. "You need to find Augusta and head over to the cake table, my dear." She tried to detach Francis's arm from around Julius's shoulder.

"Not just yet, Mother." Francis took Julius's arm. "The cousins want a word with him as his tenacity regarding Augusta has cost several of them hefty sums."

"Wagers." Their mother threw up her hands. As a Quartermain herself, she understood all too well how fruitless it would be to argue with them about anything regarding wagers.

Francis propelled his brother toward the rear of the house, to the library of all places. Well, he thanked God for the libraries he'd inhabited recently.

A quick knock and the door opened on the gathered cousins—all save Yule. He and Penelope had offered to return for the wedding, but Julius wouldn't hear of it. A wedding trip happened once in a couple's lifetime and he wanted his cousin to enjoy his to the hilt. All the others, however, turned toward him as Francis ushered him in and shut the door.

"Congratulations, cousin." Alex came forward with a glass of brandy in his hand and offered it to Julius. "Thank you, by the way, for making me a much wealthier man today."

"Happy to oblige as always, Alex." Julius took a huge mouthful of spirits. He could have used it earlier as he stared at the altar, waiting for Augusta to appear and praying that she would. The woman would keep him on his toes, no doubt. He supposed he needed to become accustomed to uncertainty ruling his life.

"I'd never have wagered so heavily, Jules, had anyone told me Emma was thick as thieves with Lady Augusta." Tom's bitter tone was offset by his good-natured grin. He turned a sour look on Alex. "I cry no fair, cousin. You had inside information."

"To be honest, even Emma didn't know if Augusta was going to actually accept him." Alex tried to hide his smile behind his glass. "Of course, once she told me the advice she gave her friend about seducing Jules, I suspected the die had been cast."

"I wasn't sure she was going to marry me until she was standing at the altar this morning saying, ‘I will.'" Julius spoke up, provoking laughter from all present.

"So are you finally convinced, cousin?" Sandy leaned against the library table, a smile playing around his mouth. "Or do you think she will bolt yet?"

"Well, my plan is to keep her so busy she won't have time to plot an escape." That was Julius's actual plan once they could be alone. When they arrived in their first destination, Venice, they would see little of the city for a good week if he had his way.

"Busy shopping and sightseeing, or busy in your bed?" Tom's lecherous grin gave no doubt which option he'd choose.

"Both, although I'll try to persuade her toward the latter option." Julius shot him a knowing look. "And I think I'll be the winner of that argument." They both would. "So now it's Francis's turn to come up to scratch. Or yours." He fixed his cousin with a steely eye. "The rest of us haven't done our duty just to have you two slackers ruin it for us all."

"I still have seven whole months to find a bride to marry. Don't rush me, Jules." Tom strode over to the sideboard and poured himself another brandy.

"So that leaves you to be next in line, Francis." Julius turned to his brother with a smirk. "I hope you can now tell us more about the mysterious lady you are fixed on. And let us know when you have named the day. Seven months may sound like a long time, but tempus fugit . Look how long it's taken me."

"All in good time, Jules." Francis looked up from the snifter he'd been staring into. "I can't tell you more until I convince her to marry me."

"Where did you meet her, Francis? And when?" Sandy spoke up from the chair he'd been occupying. "I didn't know you'd been attending entertainments this past fall."

"I attended some." Francis was beginning to sound defensive. "Suffice it to say I found her, even though I've had some other things on my plate," he gazed around the room, pointing to Alex, Sandy, and his twin, "including all of your weddings plus Yule's."

Sandy looked about to speak up, but Francis cut him off. "No, I didn't attend your actual wedding, Sandy, but I was certainly there for the one where you were jilted." He stared them all down. "Jules can tell you I have been going out to the usual social engagements—balls, musical evenings, card parties. I have been doing my duty, and I have found the lady. Just give me leave to convince her to marry me."

"Well, if you take after your twin and take six months to convince her, you're going to be cutting it close to get it done by August." Alex nursed his drink, dismayed. "Can anyone think of any way to speed the process?"

"House party." Tom raised his head from the depths of his snifter. "That's how you met and convinced Emma, you recall." He grinned. "Then we can all be there to help you with your wooing."

"That's not a bad idea." Sandy leaned forward, his face suddenly alert. "Who has a house available for a weekend party?"

"Grandfather, of course." Julius had picked up Sandy's excitement. "The home of a duke is the perfect place to introduce her to the family. The wives can be most encouraging." He'd love to help his twin secure the woman he so wished to marry. "Although if you plan to hold it before the end of April I'm afraid Augusta and I won't be there. We aren't supposed to return to England until then."

"Emma and I can come and be of moral support," Alex spoke up quickly.

"And Isabelle and I, although…" Sandy hesitated, his cheeks turning pink. "I doubt we'll be out in company by April." He looked sheepish. "I seem to have put a bun in the oven already."

Amid cries of congratulations, Alex's face turned red as well. "Dash it. Emma won't be out in company then either."

"I thought she looked fuller than usual. Congratulations, to you too, Alex." Julius grinned at his cousin, now hell bent on bringing Augusta back from the wedding trip in the family way as well. Couldn't let his cousins out strip him, could he?

"I guess I'll have to be the one to assist Francis in bringing his true love up to scratch." Grinning broadly, Tom raised his glass high. "You're welcome."

Francis groaned. "I believe I will not require assistance from any of you, thank you all the same." He bit his lip, suddenly pensive. "A house party does, perhaps, sound like a good idea as a way for me to introduce the lady to everyone…and pray God after that she'll even consider marrying me." He glanced around the room. "If we held it in early March do you think you could all manage to attend? You must know something about convincing a lady to marry you. All of you seem to have done so—with devastating speed."

The others laughed and Julius slapped his brother on the shoulder. "We all found love in the blink of an eye, didn't we?"

"You didn't take much time to decide, although you took the longest to accomplish it so far, Jules." Francis's smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

There was a discreet knock at the door of the library, and Emma appeared. "Augusta is looking for you, Julius. She says it's time to cut the cakes."

Julius set his glass down on the desk so hard, the contents sloshed over the rim and cascaded into his hand. "Tell her I'm coming now please, Emma."

She nodded, blew a quick kiss to her husband, then left, closing the door.

"So you're at Augusta's beck and call already, Jules?" Tom snickered and rolled his eyes.

Shaking his head, Julius headed for the door. "I've been at her beck and call almost since I met her, Tom." He sent his cousin a smirk. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Quitting the library, Julius hurried to the large receiving room where the multiple tiered white cake, decorated with tiny flowers of pink icing, towered over the two-layer chocolate groom's cake. "Here I am, sweetheart."

"I didn't think I'd have to send out a search party on our wedding day, Julius." Augusta gave him a rueful look. "Am I going to have to chain myself to you for the duration of the wedding trip?"

"I can think of worse things you could do," he whispered in her ear as he took his place beside her. With a glance around the room, he began boxing the pieces of cake Augusta had already cut for the guests to take home with them.

His wife blushed to the roots of her dark hair. The cake knife in her hand wobbled, cutting off a sliver of cake instead of the usual substantial sized piece. "Here, my lord. Make yourself useful and dispose of this please." She lifted the bit toward him and, eager for a morsel of anything to eat, Julius dutifully opened his mouth.

At the last moment, however, she turned her hand so the sliver of cake ended up plastered to his lower lip and chin. She stood giggling at him. "Oh, Julius, I'm so sorry."

He narrowed his eyes at her as he scraped pieces of cake and icing off his chin and popped them into his mouth. "Think nothing of it, sweetheart. It's actually very tasty."

"Is it?" She gazed at him with merry eyes.

"Oh, yes." Julius grabbed one of the slices she'd already cut. "You should try it too." Without hesitation, he pushed the piece of cake into her mouth, catching it partly open, so some of the confection did get in. A good bit of it, however, landed all over her chin.

"Julius!" Her indignant tone was far outstripped by her laughter as she scrambled to wipe the icing off her face and put it into his mouth.

To his surprise, when both cake and her fingers met his tongue, he instinctively sucked on them, staring lustfully into her widened eyes.

Slowly, she withdrew her fingers, then plastered her mouth onto his, her tongue immediately thrusting. A surge of heat shot straight to his groin and he pulled her to him, unmindful of the cake or the crowd of people who were gathering around them.

When he finally broke the kiss, panting, he glanced around to find all eyes on them.

Augusta ducked her head, but not before he saw the desire clear as day in her eyes—a look he'd sorely missed these last two weeks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we seem to have had a mishap with the wedding cake." He took his bride's hand and led her from behind the table. "We must go tidy-up, but we will return to continue cutting your slices."

"Where are we going?" she whispered.

"Up to your bedchamber. There should be soap, water, and towels there." He cut his gaze toward her. "And a bed, I believe."

Her eyes widened.

"Does it also have a lock?"

She nodded.

"Excellent." He started them down the corridor toward the staircase. "I know just the place to hide a key."

*

Francis chuckled at the spectacle of his twin and Augusta slathering cake all over one another's faces. Much as it surprised him, he had to admit Augusta was the perfect wife for his brother. They seemed to be evenly matched in temperament, in intellect, in their desire for out of the ordinary adventures. The only place Augusta might outstrip Julius was at the chessboard. He'd be interested to see if their games became more evenly matched over time. Jules had always been a quick learner, if he didn't get distracted. Francis certainly wouldn't wager on that one.

His brother gave his new wife a searing kiss, then quickly swept her from the room. Well, Francis suspected they would not be seen again for at least an hour—he certainly hoped they wouldn't miss their ship. He also hoped to take this opportunity to steal away. Julius wouldn't miss him and if he retired to the library, his cousins would only harangue him about being the next one to wed—a subject he'd had quite enough of for one day.

Quickly, Francis made his way to Lord and Lady Tilney who were speaking to his parents. "Thank you, my lady, my lord. A lovely wedding and wedding breakfast. My brother is the luckiest of men."

"Thank you, Mr. Price." Lady Tilney fluttered a bit until another pair of guests drew her attention away from him. He bowed and turned to his parents. "Mother, Father, I'm off to my club for the evening."

"You're not staying until your brother leaves on his wedding trip, Francis?" His mother had begun to frown.

"Julius and Augusta are cleaning up after a mishap with the cake. I daresay it will take them some time to put everything to rights. You know how newly married couples are." Francis smiled sweetly at his mother but sent a knowing glance to his father.

"Francis is a grown man, Elizabeth. Let him make his own decisions." Thank God Father was made of sterner stuff. "I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast."

"Thank you, Father." He leaned over and kissed his mother's cheek. "Don't worry, Mother. I promise I will know how to leave on a wedding trip even if I do not witness Julius's departure firsthand."

"Yes, but when will your wedding trip take place, Francis? Or your wedding for that matter. You have not seemed interested in any of the young ladies out this past Season, nor anyone in the Little Season either." His mother fixed him with a stern eye that said she wanted answers and she wanted them now. "Lady Jarius's granddaughter is to come out this Spring. We could call on her in the next week or so." She smoothed out his jacket collar. "Nothing wrong with getting an advance look at the field."

"The Quartermain cousins have suggested Grandfather and Grandmother host a house party in March and invite a bevy of young ladies—and not so young ones also I suspect—for me to look over as well." The whole idea made him feel like he was at Tattersall's looking over cattle to purchase. "Will that suit you, Mother?"

"I'm not certain Mama and Papa are up to hosting a house party." Mother bit her lip, torn between the possibility of assisting her son in winning a wager and her knowledge of her parents' capabilities.

"I'm sure if we offer to help, the duke will be more than willing to host such an event." Father himself seemed excited by the prospect. "Besides, he can always hire more servants if need be. I'll speak to him first thing tomorrow. You know he'll do anything for a wager."

"Even work to lose it if it means getting his way." Francis tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. His parents had no idea why he was reluctant to marry, but then no one did.

"Papa would cut off his nose to spite this face and sharpen the knife with which he did it if it served his purposes regarding a wager." Mother seemed awfully cheerful about her parent's legendary tenacity.

"Now that I do believe." Francis kissed his mother once more. "But I must go before Tom or one of the others finds me. I will see you at breakfast, Father." Turning to leave, Francis caught a glimpse of Alex, his head sweeping the rooms as if looking for someone. Francis bolted for the foyer, hastily retrieved his hat, coat, and stick and managed to escape out into the chill air of the late afternoon, heaving a sigh of relief as he was swallowed up in the brisk foot traffic heading away from Mayfair.

Starting off quickly down the smooth pavement of the sidewalk, his pace slowing a trifle as he lost the feeling that one of his cousins was about to apprehend him and drag him back to the breakfast.

Setting his feet toward the nearby neighborhood of Soho, Francis followed the way he knew so well that wound toward Marleybone, though that was not his final destination. His pace warmed him well against the chill as the sun continued its slide toward the end of the earth. He turned left into Tottenham Court Road, eagerly quickening his pace now as he strode up to number fifteen Rathbone Place and put his key in the door.

Opening it quickly, he doffed his hat and coat, leaving them on the rack, then headed up the staircase with urgent steps. The door to the bedroom had been left ajar in invitation. Silently, he pushed it open, and his breath caught in his throat.

The slender woman sat at the toilet table pushed against a wall, a lamp illuminating her creamy skin, making her seem to glow in the soft light. The stark difference between the pale skin and long raven-black tresses that cascaded down her back in thick waves made his cock spring to life. Absorbed in applying a touch of rouge to her cheeks, she seemed unaware of him and Francis stood quietly, drinking in the sheer beauty that dazzled him every time he entered the chamber. Alabaster skin, ebony hair, eyes of the purest green tilted up slightly at the ends with thick sooty lashes, and high cheekbones that always seemed to bloom like pink roses above her long, slender neck.

Her China-blue-silk robe hid the rest of her, just barely, although he knew every inch of her lovely body intimately. From her perfectly round breasts with the deep, rosy nipples, to her slender waist that tended to be ticklish, to her curvaceous hips, to the dark thicket of curls that called to him so potently this moment he had to shift himself to keep his member from tenting his trousers.

The slight movement caught her attention and she looked up from the mirror, her luscious red lips curling into a welcoming smile. "You are early, my love. I wasn't expecting you until much later."

"My brother decided to dally with his new wife so I thought I would take a page from his copy book and come here to you now." Francis moved to stand behind her, then put his hands on her slim shoulders and bent to kiss the swan-like neck, starting at the warm pulse beneath her jaw, then trailing down until he was impeded by her dressing gown. "I wish you could have been with me at the wedding, Gem."

"You know that wasn't possible, my love." She arched her back and laid her head against his chest.

"It would if you would just agree to marry me." He parted her robe, then turned her around to kiss her breasts.

"Francis, we have talked about this many times." She frowned into the mirror, but her eyes were sad. "A man of your breeding marries a virtuous young lady who has family and position and wealth. He does not marry his mistress."

"I would, if only you would accept me, my love." He would marry her this minute, uncaring what Polite Society or his family might think. But she'd been steadfast in her refusals for the past three years. Sadly, he knew he would not change her mind tonight, so he'd do the next best thing—the only thing she would allow him to do—and show her how much he loved her. "But I have good news for you tonight."

Her smile widened. "We will have the whole night together?"

"Yes." Francis slid his hands down to cup her magnificent breasts, reveling in the feel of them. "I won't have to leave until morning this time."

Graceful as a bird, she rose and turned to face him. "That is the best news possible, my love." She untied her robe and let it slip to the floor, leaving her gloriously naked before him.

He caught his breath, as he always did, at her exquisite beauty, his cock bumping insistently against his trousers, struggling to be free. "You are lovelier each time I behold you, Gem." Cupping her breasts again, he bent to taste first one, then the other, his arousal getting harder by the moment.

"Let me take care of you, love." Gem began to strip his clothes from him all the while he continued to kiss and caress every inch of her he could reach, until finally she plucked his boots and trousers off, so he stood as naked as she was.

"You always do, sweetheart." He tugged her toward the waiting bed, kissing her frantically, unable to wait much longer to sink himself into her velvety heat. He pulled her into the bed, covered her and groaned as his body sought the ultimate pleasure once more with the woman of his dreams.