Chapter 18

The slap to her behind was measured, but it still stung, and her breath caught in her lungs. It as fruitless trying to cover her bottom with her hands so she only took her punishment.

"I will not ever hear you discount yourself anymore," Julius said, "Do you hear me?"

"Y-Yes," Louisa replied.

The spanking was forceful and relentless, and each blow stung more fervently, like liquid fire surging though her skin. The heat on her bottom increased until her skin felt like it was on fire.

The spanking increased in tempo; each stroke of his hand resonated deep inside of her, the vibrations making her swollen bud tingle. Tension started to coil in her core, and she moaned.

Julius concentrated the blows on the spot where her bottom met her thigh, each strike sending a spark straight to her clit. She didn't feel pain anymore, just heat, and a desperate longing.

. "Please," she whispered. "Please."

The room was filled with the sounds of his hand meeting her flesh. Her body was all nerve endings. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes," she gasped. "Yes, I do."

"Say it." He demanded.

"My body is beautiful," she rocked on her knees. "I am beautiful."

Julius spun her unto her back and spread her knees; cool air licked between her folds, and her ache turned into throbbing need. The roped were snug, keeping her immobile, and unaccountable. She could raise her head but nothing more.

"You're completely open to me." He circled the tip of one finger at her opening, and she whimpered. "So damn wet." He spread her slickness down her folds, and circled her nub. "But let's get you a little bit wetter."

He shifted lower and settled between her splayed thighs. The quick, heated lick across her folds ripped a wild cry from Louisa as she processed the pleasurable shock in contrast to the fire her behind.

Julius repeated his wicked, wicked caress and her upper body came off the bed, only to have his hand flatten against her stomach, pressing her back as his lips covered her wet quim. His tongue flicked, and then his teeth scraped against her nub of pleasure.

Already on the edge, her body tensed, drawn tight as the pleasure built inside her until it broke, heat cascading through her. Yet he did not stop.

Everything was spiraling out of control and tremors of ecstasy coursed through her body, and she bit into her lip to stop the cries wanting to erupt from her. He licked her deeply, and she cried out, her bound hands clenching behind her back.

A blunt but promising pressure notched at her slick entrance. "You're so beautiful and responsive," he murmured, his eyes glittering with emotions she could not decipher.

"I can't help it," she whispered. "Not when it is you."

He buried his nose in her hair and let the scent of her heat and lavender soap flood his senses.

Untying his ropes, he gently stretched her out, rubbing away any stiffness and soreness. After that, he went to the washroom and soaked a rag in warm water and went to wipe away the marks.

She was boneless beneath his hands. "I love your hands on me." Her words were slurred with fatigue as she slipped into sleep. "Maybe one day you truly make me your wife."

Julius did not sleep that night; not because of the fear of dreams or strategizing his next move in declaring himself innocent, but once again, Lousia words had hit his core. Was he ever going to do his husband duty to her?

The intimacy they did share at times was wonderful and it would be only fair to finally make his wife…but something was stopping him and he didn't know what it was.

His past? Louisa had accepted that?

His intimate predilection? She had accepted that too.

His family? Rose? Louisa had not been anything but more loving and understanding.

The darkness of a moonless night began to faded into the ethereal gray of early morning and still Julius wondered. As the sun broke over the horizon, so did the answer break through the miasma in is mind.

Guilt.

The answer ran with such surety, he felt an invisible hand wallop his chest and all air flew out of his lungs.

Being with her had somehow managed to fill his heart with some sort of ease… and yet, at the same time, his conscience with laden with guilt. He had felt it before—abandoning her had been heavy on his heart—but this guilt was something else.

Even as guilt and self-loathing burned in his gut, he knew there was no turning back.

The urge to feel downtrodden and not good enough for her barraged his mind but he had to force himself to remember that Lousia had accepted him as he was. Now, he had to be better for her.

Feeling somewhat better, Julius decided he could take the high road from then on. He would go with them to whatever shop they wanted to look into. It was the least he could do.

"Your Grace?" Sawyer came in bearing an armful of books. "I apologize for not knocking but you can see why. These were received for you from Baron Islington."

Startled out of his thoughts, Julius stood. "Thank you, please set them on the table and send for anther pot of coffee, please…" he paused. "Sawyer, you have been married a while now, no?"

"Thirty-four years, Your Grace, yes," the man nodded. "Why do you ask?

"In your experience, why does a woman change her mind?" Julus felt profoundly uncomfortable asking such a person question, but he had no points of reference to consult.

His father had been the direct opposite of the man he wanted to become so he did not bother even trying recalling anything the man had done.

Sawyer was as straightforward as they came, always direct to the point and unwilling to undermine the gravity of a situation and allow mediocrity to swan by. "Were there any occasions when Mrs. Sawyer experienced a sudden change of heart?"

"Meaning a desire to change the irritating wallpaper or what meals we eat, or are you angling for the more direct meaning which means a change of heart towards me?" Sawyer's brows lowered at Julius's nod.

"Yes, Your Grace, there had been times when my wife would share those sentiments with me, but she explained to me that those were fleeting emotions that did not truly affect the love for me.

"Imagine a tankard of water with oil skimming over the top. The love my wife has for me is the water beneath the oil and the oil is the fleeting emptions that, like the emollient can be skimmed again, does fade away."

Wryly, Julius added, "I suppose such a thing would happen if there was love present at the first place."

"Why do you say so?"

"I'm hardly the mooning sort, but the guilt I feel for abandoning her for so long is crushing me. I cannot help but thing she deserves someone better. A real gentleman, born and bred. Someone she can love."

"Sir?" Sawyer said, his face placid. "May I speak freely?"

"Please."

"You're a gentleman in every way that counts," the older man said quietly. "In my esteem, you are more of a man than many others as father always said that a man is not born but made.

"I was a guest at your wedding, and I starkly remember Her Grace having stars in her eyes. I'd never seen a more glowing bride."

"Which only proves the adage that love is blind," Julius snorted. "I regret giving her the impression of a life that I was not able to provide for her."

"Not yet." Sawyer said decisively. "Perhaps you have not noticed but in the past two weeks, Her Grace has shown more smiles than she had in months. I do think your belief of a nonexistent love is true. There might not be an overrepresented expression of love, one's ladies do show at the beginning of a romance, but Her Grace is well past those moon-eyed stage.

"I believe she cares for you more than you think and is willing to leave those errors in the past. If you would let yourself desists from dwelling on the regrets of the past and think of the future, you might see the possibilities of the future."

"Thank you for your insight," Julius replied, while opening a worn ledger. "The coffee, please."

The first pages were tedious jottings of things that held no importance to Julius, but he poured over them anyway, knowing he would regret missing anything.

Halfway through the records and four to go, Louisa entered the room, her robe a new arrival from the modiste. She was dressed in a peach peignoir, her long, glossy black tresses piled on her head.

He faintly remembered lessons in literature and instantly wondered if this was Tatiana, the Queen of Faeries looked like, robed in petals and dew.

She cocked her head. "Is there something the matter, Julius?"

"No," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"You are staring at me, quite oddly, I must admit," she said. "Is the robe ill-fitting, is my hair a bird's nest, a smudge on my face perhaps?"

"You're radiant," he replied.

She blushed and took a seat, "Today is when Rose and I are off to Town. Are you going to join us, or do you have business otherwise?"

"I do have matters to take care of, but I will join you as soon as possible," he said. "Remind me where you are going again?"

"Bond Street," she replied, her brows lifting high. "You are trusting us to go alone."

"With adequate protection, yes," he replied and waited until Sawyer came in, smartly bearing a tea pot with the coffee carafe. After the man left, she made her cup and he added. "I would like to teach you how to shoot a pistol."

Her tea sloshed. "You do?"

"Please," he rounded the table and. "I want you to be able to defend yourself it I or any other footman is not possible. We still do not know who the perpetrators who had tried to kidnap Rose are and I do not know it they will try again.

"My men accompanying you will be arms but if you are out there alone, I would feel much more comfortable if you are armed."

She lifted a shoulder, "I do not mind. You'll find me an apt pupil."

His eyes raked over her. "As with everything else, yes," his voice dipped. "I have."

His meaning was not lost on her and she blushed, but kept her composure. Julius waited until she sat the cup down and after careful contemplation, asked. "Louisa, do you forgive me?"

Her lips parted and shock marked her face. When she collected herself, she asked. "Forgive you? For what, Julius?" Her eyes flickered over his face, then she sobered. "Do you mean the time you took away from me? I?—"

"I need to ask you this before we go any further," he said. "The strides we have made are wonderful, but I know I have not given you any reason to fully trust be before. Before, I did not think enough of you to do right by you which was unforgivable."

Stopping, he tilted her chin up with his finger. "But I hope you'll forgive me, just the same."

"Julius, you were ill," she said staunchly. "Yes, I know it was in your mind but it still means you were incapable of doing more than what you could. I will admit, back then when I did not understand your absence, I did question our marriage but now I understand.

"I have crossed that bridge, and I have no intention of retracing my steps," she reached over and held his hand. Absently, he turned his palm up so their palms could meet. "I understand you now."

He fixed his grasp on her hand and gently pulled her up from her seat and onto his lap. Pressing his nose into her temple, he murmured, "You're an angel."

She carded her fingers through his hair. "So are you."

"Don't tell anyone," He twisted his head to kiss her palm. "I have a reputation to protect."

"I know," she giggled. "The unflinching warrior duke who carries the world on his shoulders. But one day, I hope to take some of the burden off your back."

Her kiss to him was soft but smoldering and he pulled away with a groan. "Gods blood, you do whet a man's appetite," his thumb coasted over her bottom lip. "But I need to clean up and head to London for before you two head off."

She kissed his cheek. "We shall see you soon."

Standing aside, Louisa watched silently as Rose and Diana, arm-in-arm stopped here and there to admire the new lace and satin ribbons. The two were so innocent and carefree, like two young ladies should be, Louisa could not help but smile.

She touched the brim of a leghorn and wondered if she should purchase it and a few knitted peonies and roses over there. Nearing the two girls, she overheard their conversation.

"—never been courted," Diana said with a pretty moue. "Father wants my brother married first. Anthoy is such a wet blanket though; all he cares about are book and machines and whatnot. By the time he gets married, if he ever does, I will be an old maid."

Lifting a straw hat, Rose gently tried it on and spun in front of a mirror. "I know we all want companionship, but maybe being older and independent is not such a bad thing."

"Dear god, no," Diana pressed a hand to her heart. "Such a thing is unfathomable to me. Lady Louisa, what do you think? How was it before you were married to His Grace?"

"Hm?" She looked over while lifting another hat from its hook, smiling with how the girls had obeyed her suggestion and dropped the "Your Grace" in favor of simple "Lady Lousia".

"Me? Before I was married, I was the wallflower of all wallflowers. I left finishing school with high marks, but my physical stature made me invisible to the lords.

"I had resigned myself to a life of lonely but comfortable existence," she said, thinking of two years ago. "But then Julius came into my life and I have never been the same since."

Lifting a wide-brimmed hat off a shelf, Rose sighed dreamily. "It sounds so lovely. Tell me Lady Lousia, what is courtship like?"

"I cannot say for all courtships," she replied. "I guess it depends on the lord and the lady, who they are and what sort of things they like, not to mention the timeframe they have to court."

The questions came quickly; what kind of man did she dream of, was their courtship like and how did he propose to her?

"Julius was my one and only suitor and we had not courted long before we were wed. We had taken chaperoned strolls in the park, one musicale, danced no more than twice at any ball and two luncheons with my family," she said whimsically. "It's there I realized he abhorred watercress sandwiches and was not fond of my mother trying to read his future."

Pausing to look at her, Rose asked, "Julius went to a musicale?"

"Yes, after I asked. Why?"

"When we were younger, we went to a opera and Julius said he felt like it was like someone jabbing at his ears with knives," Rose giggled. "If he went to a musicale with you, he truly did want to impress you."

A syrupy warmth tricked over her heart and color rose on her cheeks. Every day she felt like she was learning new things about Julius, and she tucked that iota of knowledge close to her chest.

"I suppose so," she smiled.

"I desire a prince of a foreign land," Diana said dreamily. "A man of profound wealth, a noble heritage and mien, had travelled the world, and speaks four languages."

Plucking up a spool of lace, Rose smiled. "Sounds lovely and fitting for you. As for me, I simply want a gracious young man with kind heart and loving soul."

Diana peered at her. "No riches?"

"My brother is already fortunate," she shrugged. "I do not need such things."

"I—" Diana caught sight of a bolt of rose silk and raced forward to examine it. "I think it is wise to marry someone of a similar breeding and purse. Even though it is a given that the husband takes care of the lady, it is a good thing for the lady to have a family who can support her as well in the supposition the marriage becomes lopsided."

Meandering a shelf of cloth and taking care not to upset a tray of thimbles and thread, Louisa nodded. "In an even-keeled world, yes, but there are times when lopsided matches are made to create such symmetry. I know of many marriages where a penniless lord marries a rich gentry lady and pulls her family into higher class."

Picking up a mother-of-pearl button, Rose asked, "Its common around here, many lords are fortune—" she looked up and whatever words she was about to speak, died on her lips.

Her face was suddenly devoid of color, her expressive eyes awash with cutting fear. Lousia barely had time to catch her as Rose stumbled back, upsetting a whole tray of buttons that went clittering and clattering to the floor.

Alarmed, she looked in the direction Rose had been facing and— did not see anyone. The aisle was empty or person of object but that did not stop the girl from trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

"Rose, dear," Louisa held her tight. "Are you all right? What did you see?"