Chapter 9

Inside the bathing chamber, he leaned on the wall, undid the fall to the trousers and took himself in hand. His whole body throbbed with want and in the back of his mind he knew it had taken more than his own strength not to have taken Louisa as she shattered in his arms.

Flashes of everything he could do to her swept through his mind, from teasing and taunting her with his fingers and mouth to having her on her knees, with her mouth around him to taking her from behind like a rutting beast bloomed vividly in front of him.

His eyes shut, his head falling back as he released his pent-up frustration. Pressure roiled in his groin, and he tugged at himself harder, the cord of his neck straining in tortured pleasure.

It did not take long for the hot tide of his delayed orgasm to rise, his pleasure spiked, his stones tautening. He bit back the roared as his seed shot from him and splashed hot against his palm. The hot, sweet waves of ecstasy poured over him and settled thickly into his blood.

When his breathing settled and his skin got sensitive, he wiped and washed calmly, tucked himself back into his small clothes and sagged on the alabaster basin. Lifting his head, he saw his ragged reflection and sighed.

"Soon enough she is going to ask why you're not sharing her bed," he stared at his eyes. "Why you have not claimed her as your wife yet. How will she take it when you tell her that her purity scares you?"

Pressing a hand to his temple, Julius left the room and found Louisa soundly asleep. Of course she was, such a powerful orgasm would send any innocent to sleep.

He prayed that would be that fortunate.

Morning light seeped into the room around the edges of the curtains, the rays waking Louisa with a sense of contentment warm in her breastbone. Her body felt so lissome; all the tension she had been carrying for days had vanished and she felt like she could walk on air if she tried.

All because of Julius.

The scandalous things he had done to her last night—Good heavens. When had she gotten an affinity for spanking? Her face flamed and she pressed her cheeks into the pillow, unsure if she could face him that morning and not have a permanent red face.

Her skin heated as every sensual memory of her night repeated itself in her mind. Something pulsed low in her belly as the fresh memories and almost visceral touches were making her heart skitter, and the blood fizz in her veins. More aftershocks rippled through her at how easily Julius had commanded her mind and body with one word.

To be fair, it was more than one word. It was his touch, his encouragement, his praise. His attention.

Was she remembering their night together correctly? Had Julius really pleasured her so deliciously or had it been a dream, and did she dare ask him to repeat the pleasures of that encounter?

She pressed her cheek into the pillow at the memory of Julius's hard length pressing into her bottom. Surely, that would tell her he desired her.

Inching to the side, she looked to where Julius had his makeshift bed and gazed at him, soundly asleep, a soft smile on his sleeping face. He was so beautiful, his body a finely taut bundle of hard muscle over long bones. She had pleased him, she was sure. Yet she was uncertain what this morning would bring.

Knowing how hard it was for him to sleep peacefully, she slipped out of bed, donned her discarded wrapped and went to wash. She checked her reflection in the mirror and her lips slipped open in shock.

Even with her hair tumbling free, a bit tangled and curled over her shoulders and down her back. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkling with expectation for another night with Julius. She raked her hand though her hair, gave it a brush and set it back to rights, fixing a large, twisted bun at the base of her neck.

Heading back to the room, she gave one look to Julius again and left the room with her head high. In the breakfast room, Miriam came to serve her breakfast and the small pause in her maid's step at seeing her was not hard to miss.

Smiling, Miriam came forward and curtsied, "Good morning, Your Grace. I see that you are looking well. What may I get for you this morning?"

"My usual cup of tea and…" she looked over the sideboard, "…I think I will try one of cooks blackberry tarts this morning as well."

"Very well, Your Grace," Miriam replied then went to make her meal.

Mr. Sawyer bowed and came in with a silver platter of private correspondence for her and Julius. "Good morning, Your Grace, a few letters have arrived for you and His Grace."

"Thank you," she took the three letters from the tray. "Please do not let anyone disturb Julius. He needs as much sleep as he can get."

"No need," the man in question strode in, fully dressed in starched shirt, grey waistcoat with subtle striping and slate grey breeches and his cravat tied in a graceful knot.

He paused to kiss her cheek, and his unique scent sandalwood and lemon soap and ... potent male. She breathed him in before he went on to make his coffee.

"How did you sleep?" she asked while sifting through the letters.

"Very well, surprisingly," Julius shook out the morning paper and then flicked a look to her. "You don't need to tell me about your night, I know it had to be pleasant."

"Unimaginably," Louisa replied, rising from her seat to make his cup of coffee and when she sat it before him, he stared at it. Curious, she asked, "Is everything all right?"

"A strange memory. Your mother once told me she could read my fate by how much milk and sugar I added to my tea, and if I chose honey biscuits over blackberry scones, I should avoid swift rivers and wildcats. I was not sure if she was telling me I would drown or that I would be mauled to death."

"Knowing my mother, it was possibly both," Louisa said, her eyes lifting to the gold gilded ormolu clock on the wall then started making her tea. "If you don't mind, shall we visit them one day?"

"I—"

A brusque knock on the door paused his answer as Mr. Sawyer came in and bowed. "I regret interrupting you, Your Graces, but His Lordship, Adam Langley, The Right Honorable Earl of Holbrook and his son, the Right Honorable Viscount Rowland are here to see, Sir."

"Adam's here?" Julius' brows shot up. "I haven't seen him in months."

"And his son as well," Sawyer added. "Both are keen to speak with you. Should I admit them, or should I defer to another time?"

Turning to her, he asked, "Shall we?"

Louisa pressed a corner of her lip tight, then nodded, "I'll allow it. But we'll reconvene this conversation after."

"Please ready the east drawing room, then in five minutes send our esteemed guests up. We'll finish our tea and coffee first." Julius directed the butler, who immediately bowed and left the room.

"Who is this Earl?" she asked.

"He was one my father's old investors," Julius replied. "They were not friends because if they were, I would instantly call his character into question, but from what I know, the two were only in business. In the days I have taken up the ducal responsibility, I have considered revisiting that venture."

She sat her cup to the side, "If it was profitable, maybe it is best to reinvest."

"His son is five years my junior," Julius replied, finishing his coffee. "And impressionable young man with a keep mind for mathematics and structural design."

"Pardon me," Sawyer apologized. "The room is ready."

Nodding, Julius stood and went to Louisa's chair, slid it back for her and extended his arm. The surprise on her face at the gentlemanly gesture didn't pass him but he chose to ignore it.

"Send up some refreshments as well," he ordered, "Coffee and tea. Holbrook takes his with a splash of whiskey and cream."

Their feet padded down the carpet runners until they arrived at the drawing room, a chamber papered in pale blue damask wallpaper and furnished with warm wood.

Small niches ran throughout the room holding random bric-a-bracs and ornaments while a whole wall held shelved packed with novels and reading material. It was the ideal space to pass a long, rainy day.

She took the wing chair near the window and Julian stood while Sawyer came in with two men behind him; the older man though he was handsome and appeared youthful, the lines surrounding his eyes betrayed his age.

Probably in his fourth decade, his hair was graying at the temples and clipped tight to his nape. His clothing was of good quality, if not fashionable. His eyes were the dark blue of an unfathomable lagoon and the only feature he and his son had in common.

"Holbrook," Julius advanced and held out for a shake. "Good to see you again."

"Not as much as I am to see you," the Earl replied, clasping Julius' hands with both of his. "I am relieved that you are back in Town, hale and hearty—" his eyes flicked to Louisa "—and with your dear wife."

Standing, Louisa waited for the instruction and Julius made it.

"Pleased to meet you, Your Grace," Holbrook bowed. "Your dress is beautiful, the very height of fashion, Madam."

"Thank you, My Lord," she replied. "That's very kind of you. Welcome to our humble home."

The Earl nodded, then turned to the younger man behind him, "My son, Anthony. His sister, Diana, is at home, eager to meet you but I thought it was best to break the ice before she comes."

Bowing, Anthony, dressed in shades of grey, wore wire rim glasses, a high, starched collar and a cravat tied in a tall Napoleon style, added, "Please to meet you, Your Graces. You have a lovely home."

"As much as I would like to take all recognition for that, my house staff does keep my home well," Louisa replied. "Please sit. Shall we have tea and discuss the matter at hand?"

As is summoned, two maids came in with trays of refreshments were brought in and laid them on the coffee table. "Please be free."

After the two made their drinks—Holbrook as Julian had expressed, his coffee with a splash of whisky and milk— Julius noted how the boy's leg bounced.

"Now to business," Holbrook said. "I would love to stay on pleasantries, Your Grace, but I have a business proposition for you. You know that aside from my title, I am a self-made man. I used the modest inheritance from my grandmother, I had turned a neat profit to buoy the earldom.

"Your father, despite his… vices, was a smart man who believed in diversification. Your holdings include many properties and investments in domestic and industrial ventures and the like and there is one on the horizon that we are ignoring, steam powered engines and shipping. In the next ten to thirty years, it will be booming, and I do not want to miss the wave. I want in and I would like you to join me."

"Would this investment be headed by Percival Sherborne by any chance?" Julius asked.

Holbrook didn't even blink. "I should have assumed you would have prior knowledge of the stock provider."

"I have not dug deep into the details of investment, but I do know Sherborne, while American and a newcome to the gentry, it seems that industrialist does have a good head on his shoulders."

"He does, I a-assure you," Anthony pushed his spectacles up his nose. "I have read through the books, Sir, and I am impressed."

Inkling his head to the younger man, Julius added, "With your knowledge of numbers, I do trust your assessment. However, I would need to see for myself one day."

"Indeed," Holbrook nodded, "I shall arrange for you to meet him at his office or perhaps his home, whichever you would prefer. Now about this investment…"