“I think you use pretty words to seduce women.”
“But I am not a liar.”
She studied his face, then spoke again. “Something has changed since the first time we met.”
Of all things, if he could go back and change her first impression of him, he would. He had been full of himself that day, happy to be home and enjoying the attention… thunder rumbled in the distance, and Alonzo stared up at the sky. Though the sun still shined, dark clouds had suddenly appeared. Then the first raindrops fell.
“We have to make a quick decision,” he said.
Julia looked about. “Are we closer to the house or the temple in the woods?”
The rain started to fall more steadily.
“The temple,” he said, gripping her hand tightly and pulling her along. “Let us seek shelter there.”
*
One fear stuckwith Julia as she allowed him to guide her to the temple in the woods. What if they were caught together without a chaperone? Why had she allowed Willa to go? No one would suspect anything if two young ladies kept company with a duke. But this duke—well—he had warned her off before because he had a questionable reputation. She risked much by being alone with him, but it was worth it.
As promised, they arrived at a white, brick building with a green roof. Stained-glass windows of every color graced the front and sides of the temple and an ornate, wood door with carvings of roses and naked nymphs… It seemed the Duke of Stanhope had an affection for nymphs in all states of undress!
The door did not have a lock on it, and Alonzo opened it and tugged her inside, closing it behind them. The smell of sweet incense filled the air, and a statue in the Neoclassical style sat at the center of the room on a platform. At least six feet tall, the figure of a beautiful woman wearing flowing, blue robes, one of her breasts exposed, and holding a bow and quiver of golden arrows captured her attention immediately. Julia walked around the statue twice, taking in every lovely detail. Even her sandaled feet looked real, her toes decorated with gold rings.
“This statue is flawless,” she said.
“Giuseppe De Fabris is the artist. Stanhope spared no expense when he commissioned the piece. I believe it took three years to complete. And then there was the complication of having it shipped.”
She wanted to reach out and run her fingers over the painted marble but knew better than to do so. “There are fresh bouquets of flowers strewn on the floor around the statue.”
“Artemis is the patron goddess of girls. I am sure young ladies come here to pay tribute to her.”
“She is also the goddess of the hunt—I am sure men come seeking her blessing,” Julia countered.
“Or to ogle her luscious form.”
She laughed. “As you are doing now?”
“Precisely,” he said, then gazed at her more seriously. “I am pretending she is you.”
Thunder cracked, and Julia let out a little cry.
“You are not afraid of the thunder, are you?”
“No. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“I am glad to hear it. Nervous young women make me uncomfortable.”
“Did you ever think to blame yourself for making normally steady-handed young ladies nervous?”
“Do you have an argument for every observation I make?”
“I have many things to say to you, Your Grace.” His words were growing more flirtatious. What she’d give to have him kiss her again, to touch her.
“I am pleased we are here alone, Julia. I wish to speak to you about something important.”
“Has something happened I should be worried about?”
“Yes.”
