Swept Away (13 page)

“Unless you happen to run into him sometime—or unless he thinks to connect that carrottop of yours with Selby's hair.”

“My hair is not carrot-colored!” Julia protested. “He won't connect us, anyway. There's no reason to. And I will never meet him. He doesn't come to Greenwood, and I doubt that I shall ever travel to Buckinghamshire or even to London again. That's not important, anyway. I wouldn't care if he knew I had behaved scandalously if it had cleared Selby's name. The thing is that I failed, and I don't know how we're going to prove that Stonehaven did it, not Selby.”

All three of them fell silent, thinking their own thoughts. After a moment, Thomas said, “You could still kidnap him, you know. A few days without food or water ought to encourage him to talk.”

“I told you—we tried three times, and we failed. He is too good a fighter. Nunnelly would have to hire some other men to help overcome him, and I don't want any outsiders in on it. It's too dangerous.”

“The whole thing is dangerous,” Phoebe agreed. “Even if you could force him to confess, he could still accuse you of kidnapping him.”

Both Julia and Thomas waved aside this poor-spirited statement.

“He would be too proud to admit that a woman had bested him,” Julia said with assurance. “Anyway, once I had a signed confession and the world knew what he'd done to Selby, as well as to Thomas, he would be in utter disgrace. Who would believe him? Or care?”

“The problem is getting him,” Thomas agreed. “Once he's in that hut we fixed up, he'll talk, all right. A man who would do what he did to Selby has to be a coward, down deep.”

Julia felt a twinge of unease at this statement. She had always believed, like Thomas, that the sneaky nature of the man's crimes indicated that he had no real heart or courage, but after being around him the past few days, she was not as sure now.

However, at that moment Phoebe said something that sent all other thoughts flying out of her head. “Perhaps if we can't force him physically, we could trick him.”

Julia sat bolt upright, staring at her sister-in-law. “Fee! That's it! You've struck it right on the head. We shall trick him into going to the hut!”

“How?” Thomas asked bluntly.

Julia smiled like a cat who'd got into the cream. “Don't worry your head about that. I have my ways.”

 

Julia pulled aside the curtain and peered out of the carriage. There still was no sign of Deverel. She sighed, her stomach knotting. What if he was so angry with her that he would not come?

She had refused to tell Thomas the exact nature of her plans and had sent him home, saying that it would never do for his mother to discover at this late date that he was sneaking out to visit the Armigers. When he had protested that it wasn't fair, she assured him that he would be the first to know—after Phoebe, of course—what transpired with Lord Stonehaven. After he left, she had explained the rudiments of her plan to Phoebe, and though of course Phoebe fretted about the uncertainty and the danger to Julia if something went wrong, she had finally had to agree with her that what Julia was suggesting was probably the only way of salvaging their scheme.

Then Julia had sat down to pen a brief note to Lord Stonehaven. It took her some time and several start-overs before she got it precisely as she wanted it. Then she had found a likely-looking street urchin to deliver it for her. After that, there was nothing to do but wait until seven o'clock, when she had asked him to meet her in front of Madame Beauclaire's.

It was now five minutes until seven. Julia had had Nunnelly pull the carriage up across the street from the house ten minutes before the appointed time. She did not want to miss Stonehaven if he came early. She flicked aside the curtain again and was rewarded by seeing a familiar figure coming down the street toward her.

Julia closed her eyes in relief, sending up a quick prayer of gratitude, and opened the door of the carriage. He saw her at once and started across the street to her. She remained standing, leaning out of the carriage in the hopes that it would draw Stonehaven's eye away from the top of the coach, where Nunnelly sat, holding the reins. Even though Nunnelly had his coat collar up and a hat pulled low on his head, it was still possible that Deverel might recognize him as the man who had assaulted him on three other occasions.

However, Deverel did not even glance toward the coachman as he went to Julia and bowed over her hand. “Jessica.” He straightened, looking at her in a quizzical way.

“Come into the carriage,” Julia said and sat back down.

He followed her suggestion, closing the door after him. The carriage began to roll immediately. Nunnelly had his instructions.

For a moment Julia and Deverel simply looked at each other. Finally Julia looked away. “I am sorry. I hardly know where to begin.”

“Nor do I. I am confused. Did I offend you the other night? Or were you merely playing games with me? I confess that I scarcely know whether to be angry with you or apologetic.”

“No. It was neither, rest assured. Please believe that. I know I must have seemed absurd. Rude, even.”

“I was concerned. I went after you. I can't understand why you ran from me.”

“I—I was scared.”

“Of me?”

“No. Of course not. Well, perhaps a little. I am not as…well, experienced as you think. Indeed, my lord, you make me lose my head a little. It frightens me.” She paused and cast an inquiring glance across at him. “I hope that does not make you angry.”

He smiled faintly. “I cannot think how it would displease a man to hear that he has such an effect on you. But I fail to see how that is any cause for running away.”

“I—I went there thinking that I could handle the situation, but then, as it went along, I realized that I could not. You were much more sophisticated than I, and I was being swept along.”

He leaned forward, taking her hand. “Are you saying that you did not wish to make love to me?”

She nodded. “Not there. Not that night. I could not bear for it to happen on a sofa in a box at Vauxhall Gardens.”

“Dear girl! I had no intention of making love to you there, either. I did not realize you thought that. I meant to remove to my house, where we could be private and uninterrupted all night long. You must think me a very harum-scarum sort to believe that I would take you there.”

“I am not entirely used to London ways. I told you that I was from the country.”

“You should have told me your fears. I could have relieved your mind.”

“I didn't think. I panicked. Can you forgive me?”

“My dear Jessica…of course I can. There is nothing to forgive. I have merely been worried that I had offended you. That I had done something
you
would not forgive. I have been thinking about you ever since that night, racking my brain for what went wrong and how I could fix it. You cannot imagine my relief when I got your note this afternoon.” He did not feel it necessary to tell her of the alternating fury, hurt and worry that had plagued him for the past two days—nor of how infuriating it had been that he had been unable to put her out of his mind.

“Really?” Julia was sincerely surprised. She had thought it would take a good deal of persuasion to charm him out of being miffed. What she had done, after all, had been an insult.

“Really.” He smiled and lifted her hand to his lips. “Now I must ask whether you will permit me to see you again. Whether I may hope for more from you.”

Julia smiled at him. “I should not be so bold, I am sure. But I cannot lie. You may hope for more.” She looked away, saying, “In fact, I had hoped that tonight…”

“I have no plans,” he assured her. “Let me tell your driver my address.”

“No,” Julia said hurriedly. “No, I cannot go there. It, well, it just wouldn't seem right.” He looked puzzled. Julia's words sounded lame, even to her ears, so she hurried on. “I know of a place. A secluded spot. It's in Kent.”

“Your home?” he asked, surprised.

“Nearby. It is small, but quite cozy—and we can be alone there, unbeknownst to anyone….” She let her voice trail off invitingly. “Do say that you will come.”

“Right now? But wouldn't it be better if I stopped and got a few things from my house? I mean, if it is out of town—I am hardly prepared.”

“Oh, no,” Julia said teasingly, leaning back negligently in the corner and casting him a seductive smile. “I don't think we can do that at all. I am abducting you, you know.”

“Are you?” He cocked an eyebrow, falling in with her joke. “For what purpose are you abducting me? I promise, no one would pay to get me back.”

“I care nothing for that. My purpose, you see, is to make you my slave.”

Even in the dimness of the carriage, she could see the subtle shift of his face at her words, the heat that suffused his features. “Indeed?” he replied a little hoarsely. “In what way shall I serve you?”

“In any way I choose,” she responded archly.

“Lord, but you are a teasing little wench. Already you have me hard as stone, and I have not even touched you.”

Heat flooded Julia's cheeks at his words, and she hoped that he could not see it. He reached across the carriage and pulled her out of her seat and onto his lap. “I trust,” he said thickly, “that this is a long journey.” He bent to kiss her.

Julia had expected that she would have to indulge in some kisses and caresses to keep Stonehaven interested and unsuspicious for the three-hour trip to the Armiger estate. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she had even looked forward to it a little bit, at least deep down inside, knowing that it would not end in his taking her maidenhood. That, surely, he would put off until they reached their destination—and then, of course, it would be too late.

So she gave in easily to his kiss. She wondered if he would caress her as he had the other night, touching her in those wild, intimate places and taking her breast in his mouth. When he cupped her breast in his hand, she let out a little sigh of satisfaction. It was reprehensible of her, she knew. But it felt so good!

He kissed her over and over again, until her lips felt tender and swollen and very well used. Julia kissed him back, giving in to her baser impulses and telling herself that it was all in a good cause—as well as probably the only chance she would ever have of experiencing such kisses, unless and until she married. She twined her tongue around his and even boldly invaded his mouth. He did not seem to mind the boldness, for his breath grew more heated and heavy, and now and again he groaned as if he were caught somewhere between pain and pleasure.

One of his arms was around her back, supporting her, but the other roamed her body insistently, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples to hardness, then moving lower to caress her abdomen and legs, and finally sliding up under her skirt to explore her legs, coming to rest at last upon the hot, moist center of her desire. Julia gasped, clenching her legs tightly around his hand. She could feel the shudder that ran through his body at her action. He buried his face in her neck.

“Oh, God, I must stop or I shall go further than I intend,” he muttered hoarsely against her skin.

Julia nodded assent, too lost in her desire to form coherent words. He was right. It would be disastrous if they went any further…but everything inside her wanted to.

Deverel let out a long sigh and set her away from him, pulling down her skirts. They removed to opposite corners of the coach, looking at each other, neither of them saying a word. It seemed as if they rode that way for hours. Julia's whole body was still aflame, and she noticed how the rocking and swaying of the coach seemed to heighten the fire between her legs. She tried to ignore it. She looked everywhere but at Deverel. She reminded herself of what an awful man he was and what he had done to her brother. She rolled up the curtain beside her and gazed out at the moon-washed landscape. Nothing eased the hunger within her.

“Take down your hair,” he said huskily from across the coach.

Julia glanced at Deverel, startled. “What?”

“I want to see your hair down.”

“Oh. Uh—I—” She wasn't sure she ought to, but it seemed a far smaller thing than what they had been doing earlier. She reached up and began to unpin her hair. The luxuriant curls uncoiled and fell one by one, until at last her rich, fiery hair lay in a tumble all around her face and down her shoulders.

She glanced over at Deverel. He was watching her, and in the moonlight that streamed through the window, she could see that his face was heavy and slack with hunger, his eyes dark, unreadable pits.

“Come here,” he said hoarsely.

She could not resist either his voice or his look. She moved across the coach, and his hand guided her into the seat beside him. She was surprised when he turned her a little sideways, so that her back was to him. But then he began to undo the myriad buttons that marched down the back of her frock, and she understood.

“No,” she breathed, but she did not move away, even as she felt the sides of the material begin to part and fall open against her back.