Fallen (33 page)

"Do I? I have spent the last few days thinking on it." Calwell shifted uncomfortably and gave a rueful grin. "Or perhaps I should say my mother has spent the last few days making me think about it.

"You love him. Is it so odd that he should love you in return? I cannot think of any other reason for his misery lately, can you?"

He smiled at her tenderly, running a fingertip down her nose in a playful manner. "He is hat over boots in love, you know. I think he has been since the first—when he bought Lizzie for you. I suspect you won him completely when you defended him against his father."

"The man I left needed no defense. He had hatred enough to sustain him for a lifetime. I will not sacrifice my future, my
child
, to Julian's god of retribution. I will not be exploited in his game of revenge. My child and I will go where we can live in the present, and not be choked by the past."

Her words were uttered with the steel of her determination threaded through them, yet as Eric pulled her close in silent sympathy, she could not stop the flood of grieving tears upon his waistcoat.

"Oh, bother. Not again." The wry comment from the doorway cut through the emotion in the room like an arrow.

Izzy froze, her face still buried in Eric's chest. Stretton tightened his arms around her protectively, and gazed balefully at the figure in the open portal.

"Just once, I really would prefer not finding my wife in your arms, Calwell," Julian stated wearily. He took one step into the room, pausing at Izzy's visible cringe. "My dear, after all the work I had to do to find you, I wish to speak to you. Alone." Giving his friend a warning glare, he held out one hand to her. She never so much as glanced his way.

Stepping closer, he laid his hand on her shoulder, sliding it down her arm until he captured her fingers in his. Pulling gently, if inexorably, he detached her from a glowering, distrustful Eric, then propelled his old friend out through the open door with one large hand on his chest.

When Izzy made a protesting sound at the loss of her protector, Julian snared her chin in his warm palm and forced her eyes to his.

"Izzy, you
will
talk to me now. If, after I have heard you out and you have heard me out, you still wish to leave me, then I will put you aboard the ship myself. But do not leave with nothing finished between us. It would haunt me all my days to lose you and never know." He urged her with something in his eyes, something she had never seen.

"Why don't you love me, Izzy?"

Stunned, she could only widen her eyes, since his grip on her chin prevented her jaw from dropping.

"I know I have done nothing to deserve it, but I want it. I want your love. I know you care for Eric and no doubt you should have married him, but since you married me instead, could not you try—"

He was cut off by the stomp of her small boot on his instep. Releasing her chin with a grunt of pain, he reached for his injured foot, only to dance away from her swinging fist. Furious, she could only yell at him.

"Eric? Eric!"

"What?" came a voice from the hallway.

"Go away, Eric!" bellowed Izzy and Julian simultaneously.

Turning back to Julian, Izzy raised her fist once again only to have it engulfed in Julian's large hand.

"Izzy, would you talk to me? Please ?" He held her hand against her resistant pull. "Izzy."

Teeth clenched, she yanked ineffectually on the hand clasped in his. Finally, in defeat, she left it in his grasp, which immediately gentled until his fingers held hers in a loose caress.

"Why do you want to hit me, Izzy?" He was fairly sure he knew, but he wanted her to say it, to give him the words so that he could have a reason to let her go when he wanted so very badly to keep her, even against her will.

"I am hitting you because you are the stupidest, stubbornest, most idiotic…
idiot
that I have ever had the misfortune to love!" All was said between clenched teeth, all to some spot over his left shoulder.

He could not believe it. He actually turned to look over his shoulder, only to have her respond with a furious sound somewhere between a shriek and a growl. Whipping his head back around, he gazed at her in astonishment.

"You love… me?
Me
?"

Izzy was flabbergasted in her turn. He really had not known? She blinked at
him in mute surprise. She suddenly understood the real reason for his
estrangement with Eric, the way Julian had packed her off to Dearingham, the reason the two friends had come to blows.

Julian let her hand slip from his in his amazement, and immediately regretted the loss. He wanted to touch her, to have her touch him while he absorbed this revelation. He reached for her, snagging her about the waist and pulling her hard into his embrace. Tucking her head tightly under his chin, he wrapped as much of him about her as he could and still remain standing.

"Tell me!" he demanded. "Tell me, again."

"You're stupid. You're stubborn. You're an idiot. I love you."

With a shout of relief, he swept her fully into his arms, lifting her feet from the dusty floor and swinging her around until she protested, breathlessly reminding him of her condition.

"Really, Julian, you will not like what happens," she gasped.

Laughing still, he placed her gently on her feet. He did not release her. Instead, he tightened his arms about her once more. He did not dare let her go until he had told her…

"I love you, Izzy." At her indrawn breath, he smiled into her hair. "I love you more than anything, more than Dearingham, more than revenge against the duke." He could feel the tension thrumming through her body. Kissing the silky curls about her face, he said it again. "I didn't know it for a long time, wanted to fight it, but I do. I love you, Isadorable."

"And your plan? About his heirs… our children?" She waited, waited for fate to snatch happiness from her grasp one last time.

"There is no plan. Those were simply words, angry words said in pain. I never intended to keep from you for that reason." He smiled a little vindictively. "I haven't told him that, however."

"He truly did disinherit you, then? After all you did trying to please him?"

Holding her loosely in the circle of his arms, he gave her a sober look. "Izzy, are you sure you don't mind? I will never be more than a landless duke, a sham. I fear I have quite fallen in the world."

Framing his jaw in her small hands, she gave him a slow smile as she looked proudly up at him. "Fallen? No, my love. I rather think you have risen. We have no need of Dearingham, for us or for our child. We will do well enough with my inheritance. I think perhaps with a few careful investments…"

Laughing, he took her hands and held them in his own. "Izzy, darling, when I said I was landless, I hardly meant that I was penniless. I have lost the immense wealth and power of Dearingham, true, but I inherited a nice bit of silver from my maternal grandfather."

"You have a fortune? Oh." Dismayed, Izzy realized that she was almost disappointed. She had been looking forward to the two of them making their own way in the world, perhaps even beginning again in a new place.

Well, it scarcely mattered, she scolded herself. She had Julian and her child, and she had the freedom of relative wealth. To quibble with this good fortune would be ungrateful, indeed. She smiled at him with determination.

"Well, that is wonderful. I suppose we'll be living in your London house, then." She cheered slightly as she recalled the serene abode. "Shall we leave this place?"

Moving to reach for her bag, she was halted by the gentle hand on her arm. "Izzy, do you think there is room in that cabin for two?"

"Cabin?"

"Yes, your cabin. On the ship. You did reserve a cabin, did you not?"

At her puzzled nod, he grinned at her. "Is there room for two?"

"Two what? Oh! Oh, yes! Yes!"

Throwing her arms about him, she covered his face with kisses as high as she could reach, which was only up to his chin until he pulled her tightly into his embrace and raised her lips to his. As the warmth of his mouth and the blissful heat of his hold on her sank into her soul, she melted bonelessly against him, pressing her hungry liquid self into the hard shape of his body.

With a throaty murmur of surrender, she opened her mouth to his conquering tongue and answered his need by pulling his hips closer with a two-fisted grip on his waistcoat. Laughter rumbled deeply from his chest and he slid powerful possessive hands down to her derrière, replying to her demands with the rhythmic grind of his body on hers.

"Ah, Julian? You might want to shut the—" No sooner had the amused voice from the hall begun than the slam of the inn room door cut it off in mid-sentence.

Returning to its task, undeterred by Eric's laughter echoing in the hall, Julian's hand continued its exploration of the soft curve of Izzy's buttocks.

"Mmm. Izzy? When does the ship depart?"

"Wh-what ship?"

"Our ship. To America."

"Oh. That… ship. Not for… hours."

With a growl of satisfaction, Julian picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Dropping her there and falling upon her, he held her face between his palms and kissed her deeply.

«
^
»

Without a single groan of protest, the frame of the elderly bed collapsed. Julian pulled swiftly from atop of Izzy, fearing for their child. He was worriedly placing his hand on the swell of her belly when she made an unusual sound.

She was laughing. The blessed sound of the husky chortling of old dispatched the last shred of sadness in his heart. He soaked in the music of it like a blissful sponge, his spirits expanding with joy until he had to join her, burying his face in her neck and laughing himself to tears.

In that forsaken inn, in that grimy room, in that tattered bed, they found the first moment of true accord in their stormy courtship. Nestled atop the shattered bed, weak from tears of laughter and relief, they felt their spirits finally turning, joining, melding in the perfect union of love.

Laughter became sighs, then moans, as their hands moved slowly, then more purposefully on one another. His lips began to devour the silken neck they had been kissing, and her fingers moved from tentative caress to bold exploration of the hard planes of his chest.

"I was afraid, Izzy. I'm sorry, I know how much I must have hurt you, I was stupidly afraid…" His remorseful words were lost in her neck as he kissed as much of her as he could reach.

She allowed it for a moment, feeling the balm of his regret ease all her love-inflicted wounds. Stroking her hands through his thick hair, she pressed him close, treasuring the feel of his warm breath gusting on her skin. How often had she dreamed of pulling him close like this?

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her cheek against him, breathing in the scent of man and horse and the sooty city smell of London that clung to his hair.

He pulled away to gaze into her eyes. "Izzy, the first time in the garden… it wasn't very good for you. I lost control— it was too much, too fast. If I could do it over—"

She lay her fingertips over his lips. He kissed them.

"It was beautiful." Determined to wipe the regret from his eyes, she dimpled at him mischievously. "However, please feel free to surpass yourself."

He chuckled, nipping at her thumb. "Ah, nothing like a challenge. I shall endeavor to rise above the past, but I warn you, I am a tad out of practice." He only meant to tease, but her eyes grew serious once more.

"Are you truly? Out of practice?"

He knew what she was asking. Stroking a curl out of her eyes, he smiled gently down at her. His fingers traced the delicate arch of her lips with a feather touch.

"Truly. There has been no one else since first I kissed these lips."

She didn't smile, but her eyes glowed at him with all she felt.

"I don't know how I shall ever make it up to you," he whispered, his throat tightening with the force of his regret.

Izzy couldn't bear to see him so. With a quick shove, she pressed him to his back and clambered astride him. His eyes widened, and she loved seeing the laughter replace the sorrow.

Izzy smirked down at him in mock vindictiveness. "Maybe I shall let you try, after you have had some…
practice
."

"Practice, is it?" he growled, though he was delighted with her playfulness. Wrapping both arms about her in an excess of joy, he rolled her beneath him. "Oh, Izzy-love. I can never take away those wasted months. I wish I could." He gazed at her seriously, his heart in his eyes. Stroking a strand of her hair away from her lips, he twined it around his fingers. "It was you who showed me how much is lost by clinging to the past. So I will not begin again weighed down with regrets. All I can do is make all the rest of your life as happy as you deserve. With"—he grinned down at her—"as many of my children as you can stomach."

"Six," she said promptly. "At least."

His eyes widened. Hers narrowed warningly. He blinked and grinned again. "Six, it is." When her expression did not lighten, he chuckled. "At least."

With a satisfied nod, she smiled angelically up at him. "Now, of course, you know you have to begin again."

"Begin what again?"

"Practicing," she said smugly.

"Ah, so I do."

With an devilish glint in his eye, he slid his hands down her arms to join with hers. When she sighed happily, he kissed each small palm, then raised her captured hands over her head. Holding them there in one broad fist, he checked her face for her response. She only arched herself excitedly against him and gave him an encouraging smile. Without loosing his prize, he proceeded to divest her of every stitch of her considerable apparel.

When she only shivered with delight at his methodical stripping of her, he was encouraged to dare more. Pulling the ribbon from her thick hair, he used it to tenderly encircle her wrists.

"You will never leave me again!" he growled into her ear, then used his tongue in the warm spot left by his breath. She merely sighed agreeably, and the sound ran down his spine, hardening him more than he had ever believed possible.