Never Less Than a Lady (4 page)

So Julia, who would know, believed herself barren. Unable to sit still, he rose and moved restlessly across the hut. There wasn’t even room for proper pacing.

The principal duty of a lord was to breed another lord for the future. Yet Randall wasn’t a lord now, and his life had never been about the earldom of Daventry.

Julia had leaned back against the wall, eyes closed and her expression drained. In his previous experience of her, she had always been relentlessly self-effacing. Now she stood revealed with quiet strength and delicate beauty. Before her catastrophic marriage, she must have been a strikingly attractive girl. A major prize in the Marriage Mart. Daventry would want nothing less for his heir.

This discussion had to be even more difficult for her than for him. Yet she had revealed painful truths because of a bone-deep honesty that called to him. The more they talked, the more he wanted her as his wife.

He also wanted her as a lover. Attraction was mysterious. Her quiet grace and petite, perfectly proportioned body had entranced him the first time he saw her. Could he bear a wife he desired, yet could not touch?

If there was any chance she would overcome the horror of her first marriage, he’d be willing to take the risk. He’d taken far worse ones.

After such a long. traumatic day, Julia had barely enough energy left to be tense, despite Randall’s bizarre suggestion. She watched as he moved restlessly around the small room. His limp was the worst she’d seen it, probably from his hard riding to rescue her after he’d already traveled all day. She hoped he was right that Crockett and his men wouldn’t find them. Taking on four enemies at once was a lot even for Randall.

Her feelings were confused. On a purely emotional level, being in the presence of a powerful man who was skilled at violence made her want to cower in a corner. Yet he had none of the mad cruelty of her husband. Randall had behaved—was behaving—with impeccable honor and courage.

Strange to think that he and Branford were cousins. She saw no similarity between them. Randall was a warrior, intense and sometimes prickly. Yet that violence was controlled. She couldn’t imagine him hurting a person for his pleasure.

Bringing their awkward, unwelcome connection into the open had been a relief. As Randall gazed down at the small fire, one hand braced against the wall above, she was reminded of Greek statues of athletes. No, he had a leaner, rangier build than the Greek ideal, and his blond hair and chiseled features were Nordic. A Viking deity, not one born of the Mediterranean.

She wondered what he was thinking. Likely he was readjusting his view of her now that he knew who she was, and that she was unsuited to be any man’s wife. If he felt disappointment at her refusal, he’d recover quickly. He could have any woman he wanted. She’d realized that the first time she’d seen him smile.

He raised his gaze, expression pensive. “There are no certainties in life, Julia. Many healthy young couples are not blessed with children. Fertile couples may have only daughters. The fact that you are barren doesn’t persuade me that I don’t want you for a wife. Will you marry me, Lady Julia Raines?”

Her jaw dropped from shock. “You really are insane! Children might not interest you now, but that may change in the future.” She shook her head, having trouble believing he was serious. “Even if you don’t care about children, you can’t possibly want to marry a woman who won’t share your bed. Unless you want to marry a duke’s daughter so flawed you have a license for adultery?”

His brows arched. “Hardly. I agree that if it’s unthinkable that you might ever feel differently, there could be no true marriage. But as you say, things change. I swear that I would cut off my hand rather than hurt you. Try to believe that. With enough trust and enough friendship, perhaps you will overcome your distaste for men.”

“I’m not sure there is enough trust in the world for that,” she said helplessly.

Yet as she studied his cool, handsome face, she realized how powerfully she
wanted
to be different. She would give twenty years of her life to be normal, as happy and uncomplicated as she’d been before she married. At sixteen, she’d yearned for a man’s touch. She’d enjoyed stolen kisses with the dizzy delight of the nubile girl she’d been. God help her, she’d gone to her marriage bed eagerly.

Wanting to be convinced that she wasn’t insane, she asked, “Even if it’s possible for me to change, how can I marry a near stranger? I don’t even know your given name!”

“Alexander David Randall.”

Alexander. She turned the name in her mind. It had edges, like he did. “Does anyone ever call you Alex?”

“Occasionally. Mostly I’m Randall. Does knowing that make a difference?”

“Alexander the Conqueror,” she said wryly. “How much of your persistence is to prove that you can win even against impossible odds?”

“That’s a fair question.” He thought before shaking his head. “My offer isn’t about winning. It’s about being with you. You have some quality I find…soothing.”

“I’ve been told that I’m soothing by women in labor, but never by a man in the prime of life. As a quality, it’s the opposite of passion, I think.” Yet she liked that he thought of her that way. “You strike me as a passionate man, Major Randall. I still can’t believe that you would be happy in a marriage without physical intimacy.”

“There would have to be an agreement between us that you are willing to try to change how you feel.” He cocked his head thoughtfully. “If you will grant me permission to touch you, in return I will promise to stop whenever you tell me to.”

They were venturing into very deep waters here. Remembering how crazed Branford would become when he was aroused, she asked, “Wouldn’t that be difficult? Desire is not easily controlled.”

“I’m extremely good at control.” There was a glint in his cool blue eyes. “It’s one of my most irritating qualities.”

That surprised a laugh out of her. “I can see why. I’d say stubbornness is another. Marriage is binding, Major. We can’t just walk away if we find the result unsatisfying.”

“Actually, we can walk away. Not easily, but it’s possible.” Folding his arms, he leaned against the rough wall. “Scottish marriage law is different from English. Females can request a divorce on equal terms with men. If we marry there, you can divorce me for adultery or abandonment, or demand a legal separation for cruelty.”

She frowned. “It seems wrong to take marriage vows while keeping one foot outside the door.”

“Perhaps. Certainly it is a gamble. But marriage is an honorable estate.” His gaze was steady, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life running from Daventry and Crockett? You might succeed if you go to another country, but now that they know you’re alive, they might pursue you anywhere.

“If you marry me, you can return to the world you were raised in. I’m not wealthy, but I have a comfortable income and a small estate. As my wife, you could visit London and wear pretty gowns and be Lady Julia Raines again. Isn’t that worth a risk?”

To have her life back! The picture he painted was painfully tempting. “The risk is great, especially for you. I know you’re a powerful protector, Major, but we could both wind up dead.” She shivered. “I don’t want your death on my immortal soul.”

“As Daventry’s heir, I have a certain amount of influence with him. Though he doesn’t like me, he loves tradition and his earldom,” Randall said with dark humor. “If you are my wife and the only hope for an heir after me, that’s powerful protection.”

“Except I can’t give you an heir.” She couldn’t keep bitterness from her voice.

“He wouldn’t know that.” His mouth twisted wryly. “There would be ironic justice if the title goes extinct because of Branford’s brutality. But I am not proposing marriage simply to punish Daventry. I think we would both benefit if we wed.”

“You tempt me, Major,” she said softly. “But this discussion is so cold and rational. Should marriage be a cool calculation of protection and possibilities?”

Without moving a muscle, he changed. She could
feel
emotion radiating from him. “My feelings for you aren’t cold, Julia,” he said, his voice as soft as hers. “I’ve never met another woman I’ve wanted to marry. The prospect of choosing a ‘suitable’ bride sent me running to hide in Scotland. I came to Hartley in theory to consider Sarah Townsend, but in truth, because I wanted to see you. Your situation is more complicated than I realized. Yet the more I see of you, the more I want to be with you.”

Moved and unnerved, she asked, “When did you start to call me Julia?”

“Somewhere earlier in this conversation.” He folded himself down on the floor close enough to touch her, but not touching. “If you truly dislike me so much that you don’t want to live under the same roof…well, I must accept that. I won’t trouble you again. But if you think we might someday be more to each other…”

She saw vulnerability in his eyes. That was perhaps the greatest surprise of all. “I am not indifferent to you, Major,” she admitted. “You were right about the connection between us. I also feel it, and I know you much better than I did an hour ago.”

“An hour’s acquaintance is about right,” he said promptly. “More might increase your doubts.”

“Finding you have a sense of humor is a definite plus.” She gazed into the fire, amazed that she was actually considering marriage. And to Randall, of all men. “You say I must be willing to ‘try’ to make a true marriage. What do you mean by that?”

He set another piece of wood on the fire. “I think we should both commit a year to the attempt. I’m allowed to touch, while you have the absolute right to tell me to stop. Until…say, the next day?”

“That seems reasonable,” she said cautiously.

“I will be faithful to my vows as long as we both feel our marriage is real. If we separate—that’s a different matter. But I want very much to try, Julia.”

She turned and met his gaze. “It’s been so long since I’ve touched a man for any reason except patching up injuries,” she said uncertainly. “Your terms are generous, yet even so, I don’t know if I can meet them.”

“No?” Slowly, as if she was a skittish foal, he reached out and took her right hand in his. “Is this unbearable?”

She closed her eyes, shaken by his touch. A virile male who wanted to marry her was holding her hand. Deep-seated fears were triggered, yet the warmth and strength of his grip were comforting. Most disturbing of all was the undeniable attraction. She opened her eyes. “Disconcerting, but not unbearable.”

“And this?” He raised her hand and brushed the back with his lips.

She shivered as long-forgotten sensations jangled through her, as appealing as they were frightening. “Not…unbearable. Though the limit of what I can accept now.”

He gave a slow, deep smile. “Again I ask. Will you marry me, Lady Julia?”

Even with his promise to always respect her wishes, she would lose the walls of privacy that had protected her for years. She hated knowing that would happen.

But she would never get such an amazing, unexpected offer again. She believed Randall was being honest. Despite all the reasons any sane man would walk away, he wanted her enough to risk the likelihood that marriage might be a disastrous failure.

And…he intrigued her. Though he was an alarming man in many ways, she paradoxically felt safe with him. She was tired of living in fear. The prospect of running away to a new continent made her want to weep.

As a girl, she’d had a reckless streak. For too long, she’d suppressed that, but now she felt a mad desire to risk her future. If he was willing to dare marriage, she could do no less. But she had to know that she could escape if necessary. “I have a condition also. That you give me a signed, undated letter saying that you agree that the marriage has failed and that you also want a divorce.”

His brows drew together formidably. “I…see.”

She looked away. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to suggest that you’re untrustworthy.”

“But you don’t trust me,” he said wryly. “Very well, I shall give you such a letter before we head to the altar. Is that sufficient?”

For a proud man, he was accepting a great deal. She could do the same. Voice unsteady, she replied, “I believe that it is. If you truly wish it, Alexander David Randall, I will marry you.”

“I’m glad,” he said simply. He squeezed her hand, then released it. Wise man.

“Where do we go from here, Major?” She smiled crookedly. “First step, I imagine, is to get away without Crockett and his men seeing us.”

“I’ll listen for them the rest of the night. They’ll spend time searching for you in the area where you escaped. Eventually, they’ll have to head back to Hartley or go on toward Carlisle, based on their best guess of where you might run.”

“They probably think that as a weak female, I’ll head back to Hartley since it’s where I have friends.”

“Very likely,” he agreed.

She bit her lip. “I hope they don’t hurt anyone there.”

“They’ve already attracted enough attention, so that’s unlikely,” Randall assured her. “I imagine they’ll station themselves on the road and fields outside the village so they can catch you before you return home.”

She was unable to repress a shudder. “I feel like a mouse being stalked by cats.”

“They won’t find you. Since they might be anywhere along the road, we’ll go to Carlisle cross-country. I’ll hire a carriage there. You can send a note to Hartley that you escaped your kidnappers but won’t return.”

She hesitated. “There are a few items at my house I wish to retrieve. Mementos from my mother and the like.”

“We can stop for them later,” he said, “but first Scotland and marriage.”

She made a face. “A Gretna Green marriage? Vulgar but necessary, I presume.”

“Gretna Green is neither necessary nor desirable,” he said firmly. “The town is famous for runaway marriages because it’s the most southern spot in Scotland, but we have time to go farther. I think we should marry from the house of my friend Kirkland. You’ve met him. His respectability will lend countenance to the marriage.”

Kirkland had been one of the three friends who had come north to find Ashton. Dark and clever and contained, he had treated Julia and Mariah with courtesy and tolerance. Marrying from his house would be far better than a scandalous Gretna Green ceremony. “By marrying you, I come under the protection of all you Lost Lords of Westerfield, don’t I?”

“Indeed you do.” That glint showed in his eyes again. “We’re a formidable lot in both practical and social terms.”

“Believe me, I appreciate that.” She had been alone for so long. The idea of protection was gratifying. “We shall need to agree on a story of how we came to marry.”

“Something less than the truth since part of the exercise is to reestablish you socially.” He thought. “Distraught from the tragic death of your husband, you left society and took up residence with a distant cousin in the country. Later, you became friends with the Duchess of Ashton—that part of the story is very important, you are a very dear friend of a duchess—and we met through her, since I’m close friends with the duke. Having sold out of the army, my thoughts turned to matrimony, so I sought you out and proposed to you.”

“You mentioned earlier that you’d sold out. That must have just happened?”

He nodded. “Daventry informed me the last intervening cousin had died and I must return to England and prepare myself for my future responsibilities by finding a wife and establishing a household.”