She winced and nodded. “I’ll be your wife in name,” she agreed, “but not in body. I can’t give you all that I should.”
“I willna ask for more than you can give,” he said. “But for now, I’ll ask for a kiss.”
She lifted her mouth to his, kissing him lightly. Breath and mouths mingled, and he tasted the salt of her earlier tears. But the gentle offering only flared up feelings of possession. He wanted to drive out the memories of Strathland, until she thought of nothing but him. He cupped her face in his hand, claiming more. The kiss transformed, deepening until he ached to touch her. He gave in to his desires, pulling her into his lap. But the moment he drew her against his aroused body, she froze beneath his touch.
“It’s naught to be afraid of,” he murmured, pulling back. “As I said before, you’ve no reason to fear me.”
Juliette touched her fingers to her swollen lips, pushing her way off his lap. “I—I know. But please… I need you to go slowly.”
He would. Her insistence that they could not have a physical joining between them was surely born of fear. Though he’d never force her against her wishes, he fully intended to touch her and bring her pleasure.
Surely, it couldn’t be that difficult to have intimacy with Juliette, even without a true joining. He’d never made love to another woman before, despite the ribbing of his fellow classmates at the medical college. Though he could have easily joined them at a local brothel, his sense of loyalty was stronger than the need for an hour’s worth of pleasure.
It would have been a betrayal of Juliette. All these years, he’d chosen to wait, wanting her to be his first and only lover.
He didn’t regret it. He’d heard enough tales about what to do on a wedding night from his friends. Many had claimed that women preferred being brought to their release without penetration. The idea of exploring Juliette’s bare flesh all night, of learning what brought her pleasure, was deeply arousing. Perhaps it would be enough for both of them.
But all that mattered now was protecting her from Strathland, taking her far away from London.
No matter how long it took to gain her trust, he intended to lie with Juliette in his arms.
Even if that was all he’d ever have.
The Countess of Arnsbury was barren for nearly ten years. Everyone knows that.
Brandon paced across his home, his sister’s words still ringing within his mind. He’d remarked to Sarah that he’d seen the countess and Juliette out walking with a baby the other day, and she’d responded without thinking.
Barren. Until this past year, when Juliette had come to stay with her.
The image of Juliette holding the baby was etched in his mind like a burning scar. Though logically the child belonged to Lady Arnsbury, Brandon thought back to the look of terror in Juliette’s eyes. She’d clutched the baby as if she feared something would happen to the boy.
At the time, he’d dismissed her reaction as that of a woman afraid. But what if… it hadn’t been a fear of him? What if she had been afraid for the child? Was it even possible?
He thought back to the night he’d taken her virginity and counted the months. She would have given birth to the child when she was eighteen, in May. That meant the boy would be nearly a year old, which was likely, given the child’s size.
Juliette had disappeared from Scotland after he’d claimed her, staying away for almost a year. She’d traveled with her aunt Charlotte, he’d heard, and had returned to London for several months.
The more he pieced together the past, the more convinced he became that this could behisson. Juliette must have hidden the boy away, trying to pass him off as the Earl of Arnsbury’s child. Since the countess had not borne a child in so many years of marriage, most people believed it was a happy miracle.
But Brandon suspected it was a lie.
He stared outside, wishing his driver would go faster. He needed to see the child again for himself, to discover if there were any traces of his own appearance. On that day in the park, he’d paid little attention to the boy, and now he regretted it.
He intended to confront Juliette and learn the truth. If she’d stolen his son from him, he would take the boy back. Though the child could not inherit, that didn’t matter. Even a bastard son deserved to know his father.
His rush of anger suddenly dissipated when he realized that he now had a trump card that Juliette could not deny. He could threaten to expose her son unless she married him. If she refused him, Brandon would tell the world that the boy was a bastard, and he’d lose everything.
If the child trulywasher son, she would do anything to protect him. And Brandon intended to see to it that she suffered for all the humiliations she’d given him. She would be sorry for all that she’d done.
The coach pulled up to the Arnsbury residence, and he disembarked with help from a footman. Anticipation swelled up inside him at the thought of seeing Juliette, of watching her pride diminish. She would beg for his forgiveness, he had no doubt. But he would allow her a token, by taking their son back after she’d wed him. Eventually, she would see that her place was with him.
He couldn’t wait.
“Miss Andrews, you have a visitor,” the butler informed her. “The Earl of Strathland has come to call.”
His words struck her cold, for she’d never expected Lord Strathland to confront her here. Not this soon. Though she’d known he was angry at the ball last night, she’d expected to be gone before he could retaliate. A rush of anxiety caught her in the stomach as she wondered what he wanted.
It didn’t matter. Just because he had come to call didn’t mean she had to see him. She pushed back the instinctive fear, reminding herself that there were a dozen servants who would come to her aid. She was in no danger at all.
