Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) (29 page)

"He went too far when he criticized America. I will not keep my mouth shut when I have been insulted, be he your prince or even your king."

"I am warning you, Lavender." His voice was filled with authority as he issued his command. "I insist that you apologize at once and do not provoke me further."

She slid off the bed and stood before him. She had not wanted to fight with Julian. She wished she could tell him that she had felt the baby move. "Apologize to whom, Julian?" she said instead. "You, or the prince?"

His temper cooled a bit when he admitted to himself that the prince had not been at his best today. "The Prince of Wales was no more immune to your charms than all the other men you have enticed, Lavender. He was not even aware that you had insulted him."

She tossed her head. "I apologize, Julian. There, do you feel better?"

His lips twitched, and he tried not to smile. He could not stay angry with her when she looked so adorable. There was laughter in his deep voice. "Is there nothing you won't do, Lavender? Must you always court danger? Have you any notion that to insult one of the royal family is folly of the worst sort? In the future you might want to think before you speak. As it is, poor Prinny will spread the word of what a delightful, witty, and beautiful wife I have."

"I said I apologize."

His eyes danced across her face. "Why don't I trust you?"

She smiled devilishly. "Because you know I do not mean it. When I was small, and I would have a disagreement with my brother, my mother would always insist that I apologize to Chandler. But, you see, I discovered a way where I did not have to humble myself by being repentant, and no one but Chandler ever knew my strategy."

"Are you about to enlighten me?"

"Yes, but you will not like it."

"Why do I have a feeling that will not stop you?"

She smiled. "It's really quite simple. If I said to Chandler that I apologized, that did not mean I was sorry, it merely meant my mother had forced me to apologize. But, on the other hand, if I stated that I was sorry, then I was truly regretful for my actions."

He looked reflective for a moment. "I'm not sure I follow you. Did you just apologize to me, or did you say you were sorry?"

Her eyes became cold, resembling blue ice. "I apologized, but I am not sorry for what I said to your prince."

He stared at her, wondering if there was a woman to equal her anywhere in the world. He had tried to stay away from her, fearing she would pull him farther into her tender trap, but today he had admitted defeat. He had come home, and had found her with the prince. He had this overwhelming need to see her, to touch her, to make love to her.

As Julian's eyes moved over Lavender's body, the satirical curl of his lips reminded her that he knew what she looked like without her clothing. His sensuous smile surpassed that which was proper for a gentleman to bestow upon a well-brought up young lady, even if she did happen to be his wife.

When he pulled her to him, she readily nestled her head on his shoulder, while his hands moved across her back. She felt the tension that had knotted her muscles all day slowly melt away beneath his soothing hands.

"I have missed you," he admitted in a whisper. She could sense his reluctance to admit to such a weakness. "You are in my blood, Lavender."

She raised her face to Julian, but before she could admit she had missed him, his mouth covered hers with soft warmth, and she felt him lift her into his arms and lay her on the bed. She was breathless when he broke off the kiss, and sat down beside her, his eyes on her face.

As Julian stared down at Lavender's delicate beauty, he became aware of what a fragile flower she appeared to be, and yet he had seen her wield a rapier with an expertise a man would envy. She was a brave soul, who had unheedingly ridden into danger many times. His heart swelled within his chest when his hand moved over her stomach and he felt the soft roundness.

"You begin to show," he said with awe, as he slowly undressed her, one garment at a time. When she was naked, his eyes moved over her satiny body, and he felt a tightening in his loins. "1 began to think you would have this baby without ever appearing to be with child." He found pride in seeing her swell with his child. Pride, and other emotions he did not care to analyze.

Her eyes were star-bright as she shyly gazed up at him. "I felt the child move for the first time today." Elation laced her voice.

Julian was unfamiliar with the body of a woman who was carrying a child. He stared at her with astonishment reflected in his eyes. "Do you mean it actually moved, like it was alive?"

She smiled. "Yes., it did."

Julian felt a rush of tenderness that rocked his whole body, as his hand gently moved across the gentle swell of her stomach. He had not expected to feel this wondrous pride. "Do you think I could feel it move?"

She pulled him down beside her, thinking how like a little boy he was at the moment. "I do not seem to have any control over the baby's movements and I do not know when it will happen again."

His eyes became dark and passionate, and she felt her throat muscles tighten. His smile was deeply grooved with mockery when he saw the effect he was having on her. When his hand slid up her stomach to lightly touch her swollen breasts, a soft murmur escaped her lips. Her body trembled in response to his urgent caress.

"I will have you," he said, rolling her over on her back and hovering above her. "But have no fear for the baby, I will be very gentle with you."

As Julian took her body, she tried to hide the tears that gathered in her eyes because of the beauty of his lovemaking. She was swallowed up in a velvet mist of sensual feelings.

She could hear his uneven breathing and knew his pulse was racing like her own. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine what Julian's lovemaking would be like if he loved a woman. A soft whimper escaped her throat when his body took her through the passionate mist into the brilliant sunshine.

It was dark now, and Julian's head rested on the pillow beside Lavender's. He was fascinated with the way his dark hair mingled with her golden tresses. In the soft candlelight, she caught his tender expression and wondered if he were beginning to care for her.

Daringly she reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his. "Julian, I do not know about such things, so will you answer a question for me?"

His smile was warm. "I will try."

"Is it. .. Do every man and wife experience this . . ." She hesitated, not knowing what to call it. ". . . oneness."

His dark eyes swept her face. "Is that what you feel?"

"Yes, I think so."

With his finger, he gently traced her hairline at the forehead. "I admit that what we have together is unique. You have satisfied my body beyond my expectations."

That was not the answer she had hoped to hear, but it was enough for now. She would have to be satisfied with giving him pleasure, and must not expect more. Too much hatred and mistrust stood in their way. Perhaps they could never be able to breach the rift that yawned between them. Anyway, she dared not reveal too much of what she was feeling, lest he become bored with her and push her away.

She turned her face to the wall, wondering if when it came time to give up her baby, she would be able to go through with it.

"Lavender," Julian said, turning her back to face him. "You will be leaving London tomorrow. It is time to go to Mannington, because I would like the baby to be born there."

"I will not be sorry to see the last of London."

His arms tightened around her. "Have you been so unhappy here? Most women would be elated to be bedecked in new gowns and jewels."

"I like pretty things," she admitted, lowering her lashes.

"Do I hear a 'but' in your voice?"

She looked at him squarely. "These last few years I have shunned all things English. It is hard to be enthusiastic when my clothing, even the food I eat, is English. 1 feel like I am betraying my beliefs and my country."

He rested his head against hers. "1 had never thought of it from your point of view." He smiled. "Would you feel better if I dressed you in sackcloth and ashes?"

She raised her face to him. "Julian, I don't think I will ever feel right again. I wish I were going back to Williamsburg tomorrow, instead of to Mannington. I do not belong in England."

He clenched his jaw and his eyes flamed. "You belong with me until after the baby is born. You seem to forget the baby is half English."

"And after the baby is born?" She prayed he would say he wanted her to stay with him forever.

He stood up and glared at her, the soft mood between them broken. "As I told you before, Lavender, when you hand the baby over to me, you are free to pursue whatever life you so desire."

Raising up on her elbow, she watched him dress, wishing she had not made him angry again. "What time will we depart tomorrow, Julian?"

"You and my grandmother will be leaving before noon. I will try and join you there at the Yuletide season."

"You will not be going with us?"

"No. I have many pressing matters to attend to here in London."

As he walked to the door, she wondered if his business had to do with another woman. "1 will wish you a pleasant journey, Lavender, since I will be gone when you rise in the morning."

She stared at him in stunned silence. She had not realized it was almost Christmas. In dreamlike unreality, she shivered. Through thick lashes she saw the cold, indifferent look Julian bestowed upon her. "Good night, Your Grace," she said, wishing he would leave before she burst out crying.

After he was gone, she buried her head under her pillow as great sobs racked her body. She scolded herself for giving in to tears again. How Chandler would tease her if he knew she was becoming so female.

Suddenly her heart ached from homesickness, and she did so want to see her family and Nicodemus. What if Chandler had met death from an Englishman's hands? That thought only brought more tears. Finally, in a state of exhaustion, she fell asleep, dreaming about Virginia and the life she had left behind.

The coach carrying Lavender and the dowager duchess crossed Westminster Bridge, and by midmorning, they left London behind. Lavender sank into the red Moroccan leather seat and leaned her head back against a velvet pillow, feeling too heartsick to notice the passing landmarks. She knew she would miss Julian very much, and she ached for the time he would join them at Mannington. Their entourage consisted of footmen, outriders. Two other coaches conveying servants and trunks had gone before. A dense fog hung over the land, and she could not even see the sky. As they moved through the countryside, a cruel, biting wind blew out of the north. In spite of the fact that Lavender and Julian's grandmother had foot warmers, they still huddled beneath woolen coverlets to keep warm.

The dowager, seeing Lavender's pensive mood, drew her into conversation. "It does not seem possible that the Yule Season is upon us. When one gets to be my age, the seasons pass in rapid progression."

Lavender sighed heavily. "I will always associate Christmas with unhappiness, Grandmama." Lavender neither realized that she had used the name the duke always used with his grandmother nor did she see the pleased glow in the dowager duchess's eyes.

"Why ever should you be gloomy at Christmas, my child?"

"Because ... my father was fatally wounded on a Christmas Eve, and, a few days later, he died."

The dowager's face was softened with sympathy. "How tragic for you, my dear. You must remember your father, but put the awful occasion of his death out of your mind."

"I know I should, Grandmama, and I do not dwell on it. But the holiday season always seems to bring it all back to me."

The dowager patted her hand. "I suspect when this baby is old enough to enjoy the season, it will take on a bright new meaning for you."

Lavender gazed out the window, choosing not to remind Julian's grandmother that she would never get the opportunity to spend a holiday with her baby. A deep, painful ache surrounded her heart at the thought of giving life to this baby and then never being able to watch it grow into childhood. Since yesterday, when she had felt the baby move, she had tried to guard herself from the eventual hurt by pretending she had no true bond with the baby inside her. But her mother's heart would not be denied, and she knew that with each passing day, the baby would become more dear to her.

"How soon will we reach Mannington, Grand-mama?" Lavender asked, trying to push her gloom aside.

"If the weather holds and it does not snow, we should be home within the week. I must say I will be glad to get back to the country."

"You do not enjoy the social events of London?"

The dowager smiled, as if she were remembering something out of the past. "At one time I was very fond of the London Season. I was considered a high-stepper in my youth. At a time when it was unheard of, I drove a coach and six right past Parliament." The older woman laughed with amusement. "I would have been in disgrace but for the fact that Julian's grandfather was so intrigued by the incident, he asked me to marry him. And, of course, no one would dare insult the future Duchess of Mannington. At least not aloud."