Nicole Jordan (30 page)

“You only believed him because I didn’t deny it.”

Dare’s mouth curled sardonically. “And I suppose I was predisposed to think you guilty. My mother had countless lovers during the course of her marriage. She came from a generation that raised infidelity to a fine art, and I grew up believing it the natural way of things. But I should have known you weren’t like her.”

His tone turned darker, bleaker. “I should have suspected my grandfather’s machinations.
I
was the fool—for not realizing the lengths he would go to in order to have his way. And then I left you to deal with the aftermath alone. He destroyed your life, but I let it happen. I should have protected you.”

“You would have, had you known, I’m certain of it.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “At the time I was only concerned about surviving my own wounds. All I wanted was to get as far away from you as possible. If I had remained…at least I could have saved you from the damage my grandfather inflicted on your reputation afterward. Your sales clerk told me he ruined your business and drove you to leave town.”

“Yes. I had no resources to fight him, and I had my mother to support. But I couldn’t hope for any respectable employment after he tore my name to shreds.”

“So you turned to acting.”

“That actually was the one good thing to come of the calamity, Dare.” A faint smile curved her mouth. “I found a vocation—something I truly love doing. Acting proved my salvation. It helped me banish my demons.”

“But then you were forced to take a protector,” Dare said, his voice ragged.

Julienne was glad the lamplight was not overly bright, for the flush of shame on her cheeks would have been even more noticeable. “It wasn’t…It was simply something I had to do. And after losing you, nothing much could hurt me. The gentleman I chose…he was very kind. It made it easier to give my body for money.”

Fresh tears scalded her eyes as she remembered. She had thought she might die from a grief-stricken heart, but the struggle to survive had given her a reason to go on.

She had eventually managed to overcome the darkness and shame that had nearly swallowed her. In time she had even healed from the brutal ordeal. Ivers had violated her body, but he hadn’t touched the core of her.

He hadn’t destroyed her physical need for passion, either. It had helped that her gentle protector had banished the last vestiges of her fear. But Dare had been the one to show her what true ecstasy was. What it was to feel truly alive. Because of him, she knew that lovemaking had nothing to do with the act of violence that had been perpetrated against her.

She reached up to touch his cheek. “There were some things about that summer that I never regretted. You taught me about love, about passion. Without that, I never could have overcome the rest.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, as if he couldn’t bear to accept her forgiveness. “You can’t absolve me of guilt, Julienne.”

The look of pain on Dare’s face made her heart ache. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and help him find peace. He was holding her so gently, as if she were made of fragile glass, as if he feared to touch her.

Lifting her face, she pressed her lips against his. “Dare…make love to me.”

He drew back to stare at her. “How can you possibly want me after what I did to you?”

Julienne had to smile just a little. All she could think of was how fervently she wanted Dare, how much she needed him. She needed him to exorcise her dark memories. Needed him to drive away the terrible loneliness of the past years.

In answer, she reached up to caress his cheek, feeling the day’s stubble that roughened his jaw. “How can I possibly
not
want you?” she asked, raising her lips to his again.

His mouth descended on hers fervently, his kiss desperate, as if he needed her to save his soul. With their lips still joined, he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the adjacent chamber, where he lay her down on the narrow bed.

In the glow of the fire, he undressed her, but his touch was tentative—nothing like that of the passionate lover who had become a legend. And when she was fully naked, he sat beside her, hesitating.

“Dare…I won’t break,” Julienne murmured restlessly.

Perhaps not, he thought, but he felt as raw and uncertain as a boy with his first love.

As if understanding, she sat up and cupped his face in her hands. “You won’t hurt me,” she whispered. “You could never hurt me.”

Dare nearly groaned as his heart twisted in his chest. She was trying to console
him
.

She kissed him tenderly, letting her warm mouth linger against his as she untied his cravat and let it drop to the floor. He drank in her kiss but then took over from her, removing his jacket himself.

While he unfastened the buttons of his waistcoat, Julienne rose from the bed and went to her bureau, where she made use of the coffer of sponges and unpinned her hair. His gaze remained riveted on her as the silken mass fell down her back.

When she returned, she finished undressing Dare, kneeling beside the bed to remove his boots and then his breeches. He reached for her then, but with her hands on his shoulders, she urged him to lie back. “No, I want to do this…please.”

He lay back, quiescent, instinctively understanding her need to be in control, to prove she wasn’t powerless or helpless or vulnerable.

Easing onto the bed, she knelt over him, pressing her lips against his bare chest. She kissed his entire body slowly, deliberately sweeping her hair over him as she moved lower.

Her caresses felt like silk, so soft on his skin, so poignant and incredibly erotic at the same time. He was already heavily aroused, but he hardened even further when Julienne swirled her tongue over the sensitive area of his inner thighs. Then she moved back up his body, her lips trailing fire over his flesh…his phallus, his belly, his chest….

It required almost herculean effort for Dare to lie totally still while she attended him, licking, stroking, tantalizing…. She paused to brush his male nipples with her tongue before returning to his mouth, delivering a featherlight kiss that made his stomach clench in a mixture of tenderness and wrenching desire.

When her kiss deepened, his fingers wrapped helplessly in her hair. He tried to be gentle, but the coiling tension became too much to bear. Drawing her down to cover him, Dare whispered her name with a note of pleading. In response, Julienne lowered herself onto him slowly, taking him fully into her body.

Their joining was heaven. A hoarse sound escaped him at the blinding throb of sensation; his heart ached with a wild rhythm. He could feel the twisting need within her, the desperate longing to become part of him, and he reciprocated, giving wholly of himself.

They claimed each other with fierce tenderness, and in only moments the firestorm overcame them. They moved together in the throes of passion, drinking each other’s cries, cresting on shattering swells that seemed to last forever.

When finally the rapture ended, Julienne collapsed limply upon Dare, trembling. She lay against his warm, powerful body, listening to the force of his thundering heart.

A serene peace washed over her. Dare finally knew the truth, that she hadn’t betrayed him. She could lay the last of her demons to rest. Their lovemaking had been as exquisite as usual, but there was a newness about it…a heightened sweetness, a caring. They had given solace to each other.

She exhaled softly on a sigh. Dare no longer blamed her for the past, or for what Ivers had done. Nor had he condemned her because she’d been forced by dire circumstances to share her body. She felt cleansed somehow, as if a great burden had been lifted from her.

Her heart felt almost light. She scarcely recognized the feeling. Hope. It was an unfamiliar emotion, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years. She was free of the hurtful past at last.

Dare, however, could not forget, it seemed. He lay staring up at the ceiling for a long while.

“How you must have hated me,” he said finally.

“No, not you,” she replied, her voice soft. “Never you. I hated Ivers. I wanted to kill him.”

“I intend to,” Dare muttered darkly.

A sharp arrow of anxiety shot through Julienne, and she raised her head from his shoulder. “Dare, you cannot.”

“Why not?”

“Because the satisfaction couldn’t possibly be worth the possible consequences. If you killed him, you might very well have to flee the country. I couldn’t bear it if you sacrificed yourself for my sake.”

His green eyes flickered with pain as they searched hers. “Don’t you want even the slightest measure of revenge?”

“At one time I did, but now…I only want to bury the past and move on with my life.”

“Are you so certain Ivers will let the past stay buried? What did he want with you in Newmarket?”

Julienne flinched at the question. “He wanted money to pay his debts. He threatened to renew those old charges of treason against me if I didn’t pay him.”

Anger darkened Dare’s eyes. “And you intend to surrender to his threats?”

“No, of course not. I told him to go to the devil. He can’t hurt me any longer.”

“And yet you carry a knife.”

“For protection, yes.”

Dare’s expression hardened. “He won’t get away with what he did, Julienne. He deserves punishment for his crimes.”

Dare was right, she knew. Ivers shouldn’t be allowed to go unpunished. But she couldn’t bear the thought of Dare suffering as a result.

She gave him a pleading look. “Dare, please, promise me you won’t kill him.”

He tightened his jaw. “Very well…I won’t kill him outright.”

She stared at him a long moment, as if not quite believing him.

“Trust me,” he said quietly. “I won’t do anything foolish this time.”

He was relieved when Julienne finally laid her head back down on his shoulder and allowed him to wrap his arms around her. But even while relishing the sensual contentment of their embrace, Dare found himself staring at the dancing shadows on the ceiling, hating with a lethal passion the vile bastard who had violated her.

He couldn’t let that lie. Ivers would pay for hurting Julienne, one way or another. He would make damned certain Ivers hanged if he had murdered Alice Watson. And if Ivers was an accomplice of Caliban’s, he would prove it and let justice take its course….

He hadn’t told Julienne about that probable connection yet, and he wouldn’t until he had Ivers in chains. This score was his alone to settle. He didn’t want Julienne involved, or for her to feel required to face her attacker.

After a while, Dare heard the even sound of her breathing, and his churning thoughts turned from revenge to his own transgressions. He should be flayed alive for leaving Julienne to the mercy of that devil. He wondered how many years would pass before he could call up the memory without being sick to his soul from it.

Dare shut his eyes to cover the surge of emotion clawing inside him. He had never felt so worthless, so unworthy. Julienne had sacrificed herself for him in an effort to save him from being disinherited. It had been a noble gesture, even if misguided, and because of it, her entire life had been shattered.

He inhaled slowly to draw air into his tight, aching chest. He would have given everything he owned to be able to undo the past.

His fingers rose to her hair, caressing the sable tresses as Julienne lay sleeping. Somehow he had to earn her forgiveness. He could never make up for all the pain, for all the wasted years, but he had to try.

A desperate longing welled up within him, a fierce craving to win her heart again. Perhaps if he was incredibly lucky it might be possible….

Vowing to try, Dare slipped from her side, careful not to wake her as he covered her naked body. He intended to deal with Ivers. And then he would put his every resource, every ounce of strength and willpower he possessed, into regaining Julienne’s love.

Chapter

Fifteen

It was some time later when Julienne woke, missing Dare’s warmth. Confusion was her first reaction as she wondered what could have driven him to leave her bed at this late hour.

Then a sharp twinge of panic hit her.
Ivers
. Would Dare have gone to confront him?

She knew where Ivers was staying, for Riddingham had discovered it for her when she’d claimed the earl was plaguing her with his unwanted attentions.

Throwing off the covers, she hastened to dress.

Dare stood in the darkness of Ivers’s hotel room, watching the bastard sleep.

Limmer’s Hotel was dark and grimy but always well-patronized; its public rooms were the choice of London’s hard-drinking, sporting bucks. It had been the work of a moment for Dare to bribe his way into the earl’s bedchamber.

Ivers hadn’t heard a sound above his own snores. He was sprawled facedown on the bed, only partially dressed. He’d removed his boots and breeches but not his shirt, and the linen barely covered his white buttocks.

Rage knotting his gut, Dare struck a flint and lit a candle. The clock on the mantel said it was four in the morning. Withdrawing the blade from his swordstick, Dare poured an ewerful of water over the earl’s rumpled head.

Ivers bolted upright, sputtering in startlement, only to find Dare’s rapier point pressed into the hollow of his throat.

He froze, his eyes wide with alarm. “W-Wolverton…what…? What do you w-want?”

Dare’s mouth curled in a wintry smile, a baring of teeth. “I expect you can guess. You were never Julienne Laurent’s lover.”

“I…yes, of course I was. If she said otherwise, she is lying.”

Only with effort did Dare keep rigid control of his fury. Using the steel point of the rapier, he traced the scars on Ivers’s left cheek, pressing hard enough to draw blood. “Would you care to reconsider your answer?”

Ivers hissed in pain as the blade dug into his skin. “Do you mean to call me out?” He eyed the rapier with fright. “You are an expert swordsman. It would hardly be fair odds.”

“What kind of odds did you give Julienne Laurent when you violated her?”