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‘Oh, yes,’ Will murmured, turning her so he could undo the buttons at the back of her gown. ‘Then I can enjoy taking them off you. Silks…’ he pushed the sensible heavy cotton off her shoulders and it fell to the floor ‘…and satins.’ He began to unlace her stays. Julia shivered despite the warmth. ‘And Indian muslins so fine they are transparent.’ The practical, sensible petticoat joined the gown on the floor. ‘And when I get down to your skin, like this…’ he began to nuzzle along her shoulder and into the crook of her neck ‘…there will be the scent of edible, warm woman, just as there is now, and perhaps just a hint of something exotic and French.’
Julia reached behind her and found the waist of his unfastened breeches and pushed down, her palms running over the smooth skin of his hips as they fell. Against her bare buttocks she felt the heat of his arousal branding her with its length and pressed back with a little wriggle.
Will groaned, pushed her forwards so that her hands were on the bed, and then entered her from behind with one swift stoke. ‘Julia.’
The blatant carnality of his need, her own excitement, the overwhelming sensations the position produced, all sent her tumbling helplessly over the edge with dizzying speed. She heard Will gasp, his hands tightened on her hips and then they fell on the bed in a panting, uncoordinated tangle of limbs.
*
Will rolled on to his back and pulled Julia against his side. It was not easy to find words and he was not certain she wanted any just now as she relaxed confidingly in his arms. Something had shattered the pane of glass that had been between them ever since he came home. Was it that shared laughter, or his realisation of how deeply she had been hurt by the loss of her child? Whatever it was, the results felt good. That hollow well of loneliness inside him that had ached ever since he had been given that death sentence by the doctors was being filled with something warm and soothing. He grinned at the whimsical thought. He had not realised just how much the loss of his siblings, the lies and secrecy, had hurt him until he had told Julia about it.
‘You are quiet,’ Julia said, her breath feathering across his chest.
‘Just thinking.’ He wasn’t ready to share that feeling of loneliness with her yet. It felt like weakness: a man ought to be able to look death squarely in the eye and not fall prey to self-pity.
‘I had never heard you laugh like that before.’ Julia sat up, curled her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees.
‘I’m sorry, I hadn’t realised I had been so dour.’ When he looked back he could not recall laughing about anything since he had fallen ill. Things had amused him occasionally. The discovery that he was recovering and would not die within months had filled him with happiness, but not laughter. Not the healing, playful laugher that they had shared that afternoon. Perhaps today he had finally accepted that he had his life back to live.
‘It was the release after the sad things we spoke of earlier, I expect,’ she said. ‘Sometimes laughter brings healing.’
Will sat up too and tipped his head to one side so he could see her face. ‘I am glad you talked about it to me and that you understood about my parents. I am glad that you could trust me. That is important to me.’
‘Trust?’ She slanted him a look.
‘Yes. I suppose it comes from growing up in a household with so little honesty and so many secrets. You must not think it was the fact that you had a lover before that disturbed me when I found out. It was the fact that you had not told me the truth about how you had come to be by the lake that night.’ Julia went very still. ‘That was all it was, wasn’t it? A reluctance to tell a stranger about how you had been led astray and betrayed?’
‘Of course,’ she said and smiled at him, her eyes clear and limpid. So why did a drop of doubt send ripples to mar his certainty that his marriage was, finally, in calm waters?
‘And you have no secrets from me, do you?’ she asked, her voice light as though she was merely teasing him.
‘Of course not.’
‘So you have no regrets that we have consummated the marriage?’ She was staring at her toes now. ‘There are no possible grounds now to set it aside.’
Something knotted inside him. Did he regret it? No. He did not love Julia. But he liked her, he admired her. He certainly desired her. She would make a good mother.
‘Of course I have no regrets,’ he said firmly and saw her shoulders drop a little as though she relaxed with relief. Some demon of impulsiveness made him add, ‘Are you asking if I still love Caroline? Of course I do not. I never did—it was a suitable marriage, that was all. That is over and done with.’
Julia stiffened slightly, or perhaps it was his imagination. ‘I would not dream of pryin
g into your feelings for Miss Fletcher.’
Will opened his mouth and shut it again. I protest too much. I should never have mentioned Caroline.
Julia slid off the bed. ‘Look at the time! I must wash and dress.’ She seemed perfectly composed and yet something in the relaxed atmosphere had changed.
Will gave himself a shake. Imagination and a slightly guilty conscience at his ineptitude just now, that was all it was.
*
‘Is it this morning that you were going to call on Colonel Makepeace about the pointer puppies?’ Julia enquired at breakfast as Will broke the seal on the last of his post. Every month on this day she had been helping Henry with his accounts and it had not occurred to her to write him a note and say that now he should come and ask Will for his counsel instead of her. Henry was not comfortable with his cousin yet and she had no idea how patient Will would be with him.
One more time, she told herself. Henry would turn up this morning as usual, full of his usual mixture of enthusiasms, doubts, hare-brained ideas and, increasingly, thoughtful insights into his responsibilities. Will would be safely out of the way and she could persuade the younger man that her husband would not scorn his efforts to deal with his debts and the needs of his own estate.
Will looked up from the letter. ‘Yes, it is. Do you want to come along? Or was there something you need me to do?’
‘Oh, no, I was just wondering.’ She did not like prevaricating, but if he did not know she was still helping Henry he could not tell her to stop. Which was a very dubious argument, she knew.
