Never Less Than a Lady (9 page)

Randall experienced his wedding in flashes of clarity, surrounded by a haze of unreality. Julia looking lovely as the dawn in a rose-colored gown with soft waves of chestnut hair framing her delicate features. Mackenzie, one of the guests, coming alert as he noticed how attractive the bride was. Julia’s ice cold hands as she tucked a sprig of her white heather nosegay into Randall’s coat, whispering unevenly that it was for luck.

He felt nervous as a cat on a griddle. She must feel even more anxious since this was her second trip to the altar, and the first had been a disaster.
The triumph of hope over experience.

His mind was very clear on how much of a gamble this marriage was—but his heart, soul, and every particle of his body wanted her. He’d given up trying to understand why. What mattered was that she was willing to trust him enough to say yes.

The wedding breakfast at Kirkland’s house was actually a wedding luncheon and lasted for several good-natured hours. As the guests and newlyweds laughed and joked and ate excellent food, Randall relaxed and the world began to seem normal again.

The feast ended when Kirkland stood to make a toast. Raising his glass toward the bridal couple, he said with a grin, “I’ve known you for over twenty years, Randall, and I never thought you would show such good sense as to marry a woman like Julia.”

“I hadn’t yet met Julia, so I was unaware that I would want to marry.” His gaze found hers, and they shared rueful amusement over all the complicated reasons that had brought them together.

More seriously, Kirkland continued, “For this Scottish and English wedding, I offer a blessing in Gaelic and English.” After uttering several sentences in rolling Gaelic, he said in English:

“Thank you.” Randall would settle for health, long life, and peace. Riches weren’t necessary. As for the goodness—Julia had enough for both of them. His gaze moved to the other guests. There were only a handful. Apart from Mac, they were friends and family of Kirkland, all of whom had met Julia and fallen in love with her.

Raising his glass, Randall continued, “My thanks to all of you for coming and making today special.” He finished his toast in one long swallow, then stood and bowed to his wife, unable to restrain his smile at the thought.
His wife!
“Since we will be leaving Edinburgh in the morning, milady, would you like to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the city? You’ve not had much time to see it.”

“I’d like that.” Julia rose and gave her own thanks to the guests, with a hug for Mrs. Gowan. Then she collected a shawl and bonnet, and they left the town house.

They stepped into the quiet residential street. As usual in Scotland, the day was a mix of sunshine, swift clouds, and brisk temperatures. Randall exhaled with relief. “It was a good celebration, but I’m glad to be alone with you. What would you like to see? Edinburgh Castle? Holyrood Palace? The twisty old streets and closes of the old town? Edinburgh isn’t like any English city.”

She took his arm. “I want to see it all!”

He chuckled. “Will you settle for as much as we can manage before we run out of time or stamina?”

“That will do.” She frowned. “Or until your leg starts bothering you. You aren’t using the cane today.”

“Hardly a twinge left. You do good work.” He studied Julia’s face. Lovely, serene, and a little haunted.
My wife.
As they turned into Princes Street, he said quietly, “I’m glad you didn’t bolt, Julia.”

“So am I.” Her expression was pensive. “I have trouble remembering why I was so anxious. Now I feel wonderfully free.”

“Because the decision is behind you.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s trying to decide that ties one in knots.”

She laughed, looking young and carefree. “You’re right. I feel as if I’ve made a new start in life. Looking forward, not back.” She released his elbow and took hold of his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. “You risk a great deal by marrying a woman whose only dowry is likely to be trouble. Thank you for daring to do it.”

“You risk a great deal by marrying at all.” He hesitated. “I don’t know why, but I can talk to you about things I’d discuss with no one else.”

“And I’ve told you things I’ve revealed to no one else. Not at all a bad foundation for a marriage.”

Julia’s expression was warm and vivid—like a happy bride. With a rush of excitement, he realized that tonight might be a true wedding night. She had changed a great deal in the last days. If she wasn’t ready for intimacy, he would never force her. But it was impossible not to hope. The happier he felt, the more he wanted her.

As they turned into broad Princes Street, Julia said, “I liked the wedding vows. No nonsense about me obeying you.”

He laughed. “Scottish women are an independent lot, and the wedding vows reflect that. They might have been designed for you.”

Her hand tightened on his. “I’m glad we came to Edinburgh. The city and your friends have given our marriage a good start.”

Randall thought buoyantly that someday they would tell their grandchildren about this wedding day. He sobered when he remembered there would be no grandchildren. He hadn’t much cared when Julia told him she couldn’t bear a child because he had never expected marriage and family. Nor did the Daventry succession matter much to him.

Yet now he found that he did care. He would like to have a daughter with Julia’s sweet smile and quick mind. He’d like to raise a son with kindness instead of brutality. That would never happen, and the loss was sharper than he could have imagined a fortnight before.

But that loss didn’t matter as long as he had Julia.

Julia couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so lighthearted as she had during their exploration of Edinburgh. Randall was the perfect escort. He made her feel safe and cherished, and he knew the city well. It was a grand, dramatic place with more than its share of history, and very different from London.

Ever since Randall had proposed marriage, she had wondered if it was wrong to marry a man only because he was the best of a poor set of choices. Yet Randall had become so much more than bald necessity. He was amazingly kind to her, and amazingly patient. Though she was still uneasy about marriage, she wouldn’t do better than Randall for a husband.

By the time they returned to Kirkland’s house, the light was fading and she was pleasantly tired. Since Kirkland didn’t use the spacious master suite himself, the rooms had been designated the bridal suite for tonight.

“I see Mrs. Gowan’s hand at work here,” Julia said when they entered the large bedroom. She touched the rose blossoms in the lavish bouquet set on a small table.

“She has a sense of occasion,” Randall said appreciatively as he investigated the sitting area at the far end of the room. A table and two chairs had been elegantly set with covered dishes and a bottle of wine chilling in ice. “Shall we change for bed and share champagne and this cold supper? I thought I’d eaten enough food for a week after the wedding breakfast, but all that walking has made me hungry.”

“Food, champagne, and rest.” She smiled at him as she removed her bonnet. “The end to a perfect day. Will you unfasten my gown so I needn’t ring for a maid?”

“Of course.” He fumbled a little as he undid the ties at the back of her neck and her waist, his fingers warm against her skin. She smiled. Better a little clumsiness than a man with too much skill at undressing women.

When he was done, he bent to press a light kiss on her nape. His warm lips sent a shiver through her, and she wasn’t sure if it was from pleasure or alarm. Perhaps some of both, which was itself alarming.

“Thank you.” Not looking at him, she retreated to the small lady’s dressing room. Though it wasn’t late, the day had been tiring. She was ready to go to bed. And more than ready to share it with Randall. He had been a warm and pleasant bedmate, and it would be good to fall asleep in his arms again.

Julia let down her hair and brushed it loose over her shoulders. In the soft light, she didn’t look much older than the sixteen-year-old innocent she’d been on her first wedding night. Except for her eyes, which showed too much bleak experience.

She turned and removed her rose gown, then donned the elegant muslin nightgown and matching robe that were Mrs. Gowan’s wedding gifts. The sleeves were long and the neckline was not low, yet the layers of filmy material and white-on-white embroidery made her feel uncomfortably bridal.

Reminding herself that this would not be their first night together, she returned to the bedroom. Hands clasped behind his back, Randall stood at a window watching the last of the day’s light fade behind the craggy heights of Edinburgh Castle. His dark blue dressing gown emphasized his blond hair, powerful body, and broad shoulders.

He was pure Viking warrior, and the knowledge that she’d married him—was alone with him in a bedroom—produced a sharp unease.

Her disquiet vanished when he turned with a smile. The hard-edged warrior who had intimidated her when first they met was real and born of necessity. But the kindness was also real. She suspected that kindness was the deepest, truest part of his nature, or it wouldn’t have survived his childhood.

“You look very…passable,” he said, humor in his eyes. “It must have been difficult to disguise yourself as a wren when you were meant to dazzle like a kingfisher.”

“A kingfisher is too flamboyant, but perhaps I might qualify as one of the more passable finches.” She gave him a slow, appreciative smile. “You look rather fine yourself. Relaxed and healthy.”

“Not being in constant pain is bound to improve one’s demeanor.” Though Randall’s voice was light, his gaze was uncomfortably intense. She didn’t want a man to look at her like that, not even her husband.

“Did you know Mrs. Gowan has been married and widowed three times?” Julia asked as she inhaled the scent of the rose bouquet. “I don’t know how she managed it.”

“According to Kirkland, all the marriages were happy, and she wouldn’t object to a fourth. She is either very lucky, or has excellent marital judgment.”

“I never thought I’d marry a second time, and I certainly will not do so again,” Julia said firmly. “If I can’t manage a decent marriage with a man as understanding and intelligent as you, I need to retire from the lists.”

He gave a surprised laugh. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments, Julia. I was thinking how lucky I am that you’re willing to take a chance on me.” He crossed to the table that held the food and wine. “Would you like some champagne?”

“Please.” She enjoyed watching him. His smooth movements gave no hint of the months of pain and surgeries he’d endured. And he was very fine to look at.

He poured sparkling wine into the tall, narrow goblets and handed her one, his fingertips brushing hers. “To us, for better and for worse.”

“And there are bound to be both,” she said wryly as she took a sip, then a larger one. The fizzing celebration of the champagne began to relax her. “Alexander,” she said thoughtfully. “Does anyone ever use your full name?”

“My parents did. Not much of anyone since. Alex or Randall is shorter.”

“Alexander,” she murmured. “Someday to be Alexander, Lord Daventry. That will look good on the name-plate of the grand portrait of you in your regimentals that will hang in the portrait gallery at Turville Park and impress future generations. Or perhaps the painter can portray you as a knight in shining armor atop a white horse.”

He grinned. “You have a good imagination, milady.”

“Do you call me that because I’m Lady Julia?” she asked curiously. “That is an accident of birth, of no great importance.”

He looked a little embarrassed. “As a boy, I loved the old tales of chivalry. Gracious ladies and knights pledged to their service. You are my lady. Milady.”

Was chivalry at the root of his desire to protect her when she was in dire straits? If so, she could only be grateful. “You are a secret romantic, Sir Knight.”

He laughed. “Don’t tell Kirkland or Mackenzie. I’d never live that down.”

“God forbid they should think you anything other than as tough as hardened leather.” She sipped more champagne, and realized that she was happy. Not just content, but happy about the exciting, unknown possibilities that lay ahead.

For tonight, she chose to believe that her husband would be able to protect her against her murderous father-in-law. She even believed that someday it would be possible for her and Randall to have a real marriage, in every sense of the word. She raised her champagne glass. “To the future!”

“To the future.” Randall clinked his glass against hers. “Sometimes in the regimental mess we’d toast with our arms interlocked like this.” He linked his right arm around hers, which brought their bodies together from waist to knee. “This way two drinkers can support each other when both are foxed.”

“I’m not foxed, but I see the advantages.” Acutely aware of the warm length of his body, she raised her right arm and brought the champagne to her lips. Randall did the same, his expression teasing. Why had she thought his eyes were icy cold? The clear light color was bright and true as diamond.

As the champagne bubbled through her, she began to relax. She liked how their bodies touched. He was all strength, solidity, and masculine Viking power. Greatly daring, she pressed a little closer.

His expression changed. He finished his champagne in a single swallow and set his glass aside. “Julia…”

He bent his head for a kiss and her pulse accelerated like a mad thing. Their first kiss. Shocking passion blazed through her, drowning all her senses.

She forgot to breathe. Her champagne flute tilted, spilling the last drops of wine on the carpet. Carefully he removed the flute from her hand and placed it on the table. Then he enveloped her in an embrace that locked their lower bodies together. “Milady wife…” he breathed.

The pressure of his hard erection spiked her pleasure with fear. Furiously she buried it. Randall was nothing like Branford,
nothing.
He wanted her, as was his right.