Tis the Season to Be Sinful (6 page)

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Authors: Adrienne Basso

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BOOK: Tis the Season to Be Sinful
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Richard’s gaze skimmed over the slight cleavage of her gown, his breathing shallow.
How fragile she looks
, he thought. He tried mightily to ignore her tantalizing feminine fragrance, the sparkle in her brown eyes, and failed utterly.
“I suspect Gerald did not find the situation as comical as we did,” he said, bringing himself back to the matter at hand.
“No, he was not amused. And in this instance I’m sorry to say that he is correct. The sale of the estate will not go through if he objects.”
“We signed a contract. I’m sure my lawyers will find some grounds to fight a lawsuit. They are the best money can buy.”
“No doubt.” She sighed remorsefully. “But I fear it would be a fruitless exercise. Gerald is not without influence. He will tie you up in court for years, goodness, probably long enough until Edward reaches his majority. Though it pains me to admit it, Gerald has won.”
“How will you cope?”
For a moment she looked so stricken Richard was angry at himself for asking the question. But it had to be faced.
“I will instruct Mr. Fowler to continue the search for a tenant,” she said, clasping her hands so tightly in her lap that Richard could see her knuckles turn white. “Unless you would consider a lease?”
“Regretfully, that will not suit.” The manor house was exactly what he needed, but as he considered this move late last night, Richard knew there was one other essential element he required to go along with his new estate. “Mrs. Wentworth, you have already figured a way out of this dilemma.”
She frowned in puzzlement and he smiled. “I don’t follow, Mr. Harper.”
“You said it yourself yesterday afternoon.” He was not an impulsive man, but he had learned long ago to trust his instincts. Heaven help him if they failed him now. Richard took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. “You could marry me.”
Chapter 4
Juliet remained seated in her wingback chair—which was a wise decision. If not, she might have hurt herself when her knees gave way and she staggered to the floor from shock.
“Marry you?” she repeated in a voice that sounded astonishingly normal. “Are you joking?”
“Not at all. It’s the perfect solution. You said so yourself yesterday afternoon.”
Well, now, he would have to throw that bit of nonsense in her face. Juliet covered her eyes with her hand, then rubbed her brow furiously. Considering all the unpleasantness she had just experienced with Gerald, it was somewhat ironic that Mr. Harper was the one with the power to render her speechless.
“May I assume from your silence that you are giving careful consideration to my proposal?” he asked when she did not respond.
Juliet looked over at him in astonishment. His face was deadly earnest, his countenance sincere.
Oh, dear!
She leaned forward, nearly mesmerized by the rich color of his blue eyes, the intensity of his stare. “I don’t smell spirits, so I can assume you haven’t been drinking. Did you hit your head on a low branch perchance as you rode here today? Or knock into a wall?”
“Neither. Nor did I fall out of the very uncomfortable bed at the inn this morning and rattle my brain.”
“Heavens, there must be some explanation for your ridiculous suggestion.”
He looked at her with practicality in his eyes. “I am a man who deals in solutions. This one could work well for the both of us. Don’t peers usually marry for money?”
“Or property or connection,” Juliet added. “Obviously I have property, but very few connections.”
“And I have money. The connections we can forge together.” He took a deep breath, looking very pleased with himself. “See, we make an excellent, equal match.”
“Except for the fact that we are virtual strangers,” Juliet retorted dryly, gripping the arm of the chair.
“As are many other couples on their wedding day.” His lips twitched into a self-deprecating smile. “Indeed, some remain that way for the duration of their marriage.”
“That is not the kind of marriage I desire,” she answered, her voice fleeting and wistful. It sounded so drab, so cold, so businesslike. Naturally romantic declarations were completely ridiculous given the circumstances, but did it have to be so staid and dull?
Juliet understood that her life had changed drastically. She knew that she needed to be practical, sensible, had to do what was best for all of them, including her children.
The children!
Her heart skipped a beat. “What about my children? A marriage between us would greatly impact their lives also.”
“Your children are your own affair,” he replied swiftly. “I will not question your decisions nor interfere in any way regarding their care and upbringing. In addition, I shall provide for their futures generously, giving them, and you, every material comfort.”
“What about any children we might have together?” Juliet’s face flamed at such plain speaking, hardly believing she was the one asking.
For an instant he looked almost . . . afraid? “I will take steps to prevent that from occurring.”
Frowning, she looked over at him.
“Leave it to me,” he said softly.
Juliet squirmed on her seat. “I will admit that I have thought of marrying again. Quite often, actually, even though there have been no suitable men interested in me.
“I don’t entirely agree with Mrs. Perkins, who claims a woman’s natural state demands that she be a wife. However, I know that marriage is the best way to secure my children’s future. It’s also the only way to escape my brother-in-law’s tyranny. But I never thought to marry a stranger.”
“Yet you would consider marrying for convenience?”
She nodded her head slowly. “I would.”
“Well, then, given our current circumstances, I think it fair to say that it would be very
convenient
if we were to marry each other.”
His calm, logical arguments served only to confuse her more. One did not enter into marriage with such reasonable detachment. Yet was it not reasonable to proceed in a sensible manner? Neither of them were youngsters, after all. There were no illusions of romantic promise, no expectations that at this stage in their lives marriage would be anything more than practical.
On many levels Mr. Harper was right—it would be an excellent solution to both of their dilemmas if they wed. Yet the constriction in Juliet’s chest and the wild fluttering of her heart could not be ignored.
“The earl will never approve of the match,” she mused quietly.
“I should think that would be another point in my favor. A large one.”
Juliet could not hold back her smile. “Just so, Mr. Harper.”
“Call me Richard.”
“I am Juliet.”
“Juliet. The name suits you.”
An odd tingle went through her hearing her name fall so intimately from his lips. She examined the cuffs of lace on her wrists, needing time to gather her rioting thoughts. “My head is fairly spinning with the things we need to discuss, but before we go any further, I need to know if you intend for this to be a real marriage, because I want a real marriage.”
His eyes widened and she felt a moment of triumph, knowing she could surprise him.
“By real, I assume you are referring to an intimate, physical relationship?” he asked.
Juliet’s throat suddenly became very tight. She could feel the heat climb from her chest, up her neck, then settle on her face. “Yes.”
He gave her an appraising look. “I’m flattered.”
Juliet tried without success to suppress a groan. “Well, I, sir, am mortified.” When it came into her head, she thought it a simple, straightforward question, yet hearing it fall from her lips was far more embarrassing than she could have ever imagined.
“You are open and honest, Juliet. I like that in a woman. I also like that you are a woman, not an innocent, simpering girl.” He moved to her side, settling his hand gently on her shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting pleasure in your life.”
The heat of his touch spread quickly through her body. How was it that the simple touch of his warm hand could be so thrilling? On her shoulder, no less. Juliet closed her eyes, fearing he could see the spark of longing that surely must have flared in their depths. “Though my question might give you cause to wonder, I would like to say that I am a moral, respectable widow. I don’t . . . that is to say, since my husband’s death I have not . . .”
“Juliet, you owe me no explanations.” His fingers tightened on her shoulder. “I need a wife to manage my country household, be a hostess to guests and hopefully a friend to me. In return I can promise you financial security and a sense of freedom few women experience. Finding mutual satisfaction in our marriage bed I regard as a bonus.”
Heavens, now she did feel like a proper tart! Richard most likely would have agreed to the match if she had asked him to relinquish all claims to his husbandly rights. But what chance would they have for a happy marriage if they neglected intimacy?
Then again, he might not find her attractive. She was no longer in the first blush of youth. Her figure had been altered by three pregnancies, her hands roughened by mending and gardening and other tasks normally done by servants, not ladies.
Juliet’s stomach dipped and fluttered. It was an equally embarrassing and depressing notion—to be found undesirable by your potential husband.
She tipped her head to look at him. “Technically the estate belongs to my elder son. As my husband, you will only have control of it until he turns twenty-five.”
“How old is he now?”
“Ten.”
“That gives me fifteen years.”
She made herself stand very still and look him directly in the eye. “You want this estate so badly that you are prepared to marry me in order to get it?”
“It’s hardly a chore.” Richard’s smile was unexpectedly sensual. She felt his hand glide up her shoulder, and then the backs of his fingers slowly stroked the side of her bare neck. Her heart began to race.
“Oh.” Juliet unconsciously leaned closer.
“I don’t know what else I can say to allay whatever reservations you are having,” he confessed, looking at her expectantly.
Kiss me.
No, no, too bold and brazen. She’d have to work up to the request, or maybe she could entice him to do it of his own accord? But how to proceed in the meantime?
Questions, that was it. She needed to find out more about him, even on a superficial level. “Do you have any family? Brothers, sisters?” she asked.
His hand went still on her neck. “No. I was an only child. Both my parents were dead by the time I reached twenty. There’s a very distant cousin on my mother’s side living somewhere in Pennsylvania, but I’ve never met her. I can say with some confidence that you will not be pestered by any of my relations.”
Juliet grimaced. “I cannot promise the same.”
“I will take care of it.”
There it was again. That confident, commanding, authoritative attitude. Made all the more powerful because he used a quiet, almost matter-of-fact tone when he spoke, a tone that made you believe he could accomplish anything. Perhaps he could?
She felt his hand move, and then his thumb began softly rubbing the tender spot behind her ear. Juliet shifted restlessly, her emotions rising and falling with every breath she took. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-nine. And you?”
“Twenty-nine, this past February.”
“Do you prefer dogs or cats?” he asked.
Her brow wrinkled at the absurd question, but she appreciated his willingness to play the game. “Dogs.”
“Coffee, chocolate, or tea in the morning?”
“Coffee.”
“Byron or Tennyson?”
“You read poetry?” Juliet’s head twisted so she could see his expression, causing Richard’s hand to fall away from her neck.
“On occasion.”
“How wonderful.” She sighed contentedly and readjusted her position on the chair so her cheek was now pressing against his hand. His touch tingled on her skin, sending delicious ripples through her. “Byron.”
“I prefer Tennyson, but differing tastes will give us something to discuss in the evenings.”
He spoke in a deep, measured voice that made her tremble. Suddenly, he stepped forward, swinging himself in front of her chair, then crouched low so their eyes were level.
There was a drifting silence, broken only by the rustle and crackle of the burning logs. Richard seemed to have lapsed into thought, his head slightly bent, his expression preoccupied as he gazed into her eyes.
What thoughts crossed his mind as he stared at her so intently? Were they at all like hers—illicit, sensual images of him caressing her slowly and of her doing the same with him?
“Is there anything else we should discuss before you give me your answer?” he whispered.
Juliet’s stomach twisted, then flipped. She swallowed against the rising thickness in her throat and told herself to have courage. My goodness, she had already said so many outrageous things to this man, starting yesterday afternoon when she accused him of being a thief who had broken into the manor. What was one more?
“I would like you to kiss me,” she said breathlessly. “Passionately.”
He blinked, instantly alert. She held her breath, worried that this time she might have gone too far, yet admitting there was no other choice. She simply had to know before she agreed to be his wife if he truly found her desirable.
He stood. Her gaze searched his face, but it remained impassive, almost remote. He reached for her, grasping both her hands firmly in his, then pulled her to her feet. The moment she was steady, he released her.
Juliet swayed for an instant, struggling to regain her equilibrium. Once her feet were firmly planted, Richard gathered her loosely in his arms. Her heart raced with anticipation.
His hand slid up the back of her neck until his fingers threaded through her hair. He placed his other hand on her waist. A light, gentle touch, tempting and intriguing. Juliet found herself straining forward, aching to get closer.
The masculine scent of his skin, clean and sharp, filled her nostrils. This close she could see the individual lashes on his eyelids, lush and long and curling at the ends; the strong line of his jaw smooth and freshly shaved. His body was firm and hard, and she could feel the heat of it through the layers of his clothing.
There was no denying that physically she found him very appealing. Dare she hope he felt the same?
With slow gentleness, Richard brought his mouth down to hers. It was a sweet, simple, almost innocent meeting of lips. After a few seconds he touched the tip of his tongue to her lips, running it slowly along the seam. Then he pulled away and lifted his head.
Juliet blinked. That was it? It was over? She gingerly placed her hands on Richard’s shoulders, not knowing what else to do. To say the kiss had been a disappointment was a colossal understatement.

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