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‘Nothing. I was reading. Nell and I went to the bookshop today.’
‘What is it?’ He came into the room and stood at the foot of the chaise, his eyes on the thin silk that flowed about her body. With what seemed to be an effort, he turned his gaze on the book. ‘That is a nice binding.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, closing the volume and holding it out to him. ‘The Corsair, a present from Stephen Hebden.’
‘You are jesting.’ Hal did not take the book, and it seemed to Julia that he had become tensely alert, although nothing showed in either his face or voice.
‘No, I am not. He came up to me in the shop today. I accused him of trying to kill you, he denied it. Truth fully, I think. It surprised him.’
‘And you wait until now to tell me?’ Hal demanded.
‘I could hardly blurt it out in front of your parents and Verity: it would have alarmed them. And you did not come in until late afternoon. I was quite safe, in the middle of a book shop in Piccadilly.’
‘Quite safe! After I have told you the things that man is capable of, you think he is quite safe?’ Hal was furious. Julia realized that about a split second before she discovered how exciting she found it.
She shrugged, getting slowly to her feet, allowing Hal to study the effect of her new night gown as it moulded itself around her body. It did not seem to calm his anger. ‘The man is obviously capable of all you say, and more,’ she conceded. ‘But he is extremely attractive.’
Julia almost reached her bedroom door, before Hal caught her by the shoulders and spun her round to face him. ‘Do not even think of associating with Hebden.’ He sounded as though he was using all his will not to raise his voice to her. ‘Or I am going to have to kill him.’
She put up her own hands and caught his wrists. Hal freed her at the touch, but his eyes were fierce and dark and she could see the rise and fall of his chest as he con trolled his breathing. He was angry and dangerous, and she had aroused those feelings because he felt—what? Protective towards her? Possessive? Hope flickered that it might be more.
Slowly she walked back wards to her own door, watching him. ‘I said he was extremely attractive.’ She reached behind herself to turn the handle, her eyes locked on his. ‘I did not say he was more attractive than my husband.’ Julia slipped through the door and closed it behind herself.
She leant back against the door panels and heard his footsteps, half a dozen strides that brought him to the door. Then silence. He was just the other side; she sensed it as strongly as though her back was against his chest, not against solid oak. Would he try and come in? Had she intrigued him enough? Or angered him—or worse, disgusted him?
Then she heard his foot steps again, going away. With a sigh, she put the book down on the bedside table and tossed the shawl onto the chair. She would try again tomorrow: she would not give up.
Hal stared at the door as though he could penetrate it by sheer will alone. All evening Julia had not looked directly at him, yet she had always seemed to be close, her fingertips touching in the most fleeting way, her scent tantalising his nostrils, his awareness of her body and his new knowledge of its sweetness threatening to overturn his control and make him forget the guilt he felt about last night. And now…I did not say he was more attractive than my husband. Did Julia really mean that she wanted him? After the fiasco of that clumsy coupling? She had said to him that she wanted him to come to her bed, she had asked him to teach her. She wanted to feel married. But he could not risk hurting her again.
Hal turned away, back towards his own room, then stopped. He was not some in experienced youth, even if he had behaved like one last night. There were ways to make love to his wife, ways to show her that he cared for her. He turned back, making a bet with himself. If she still has the candle lit, I will go in, if not, I will leave her.
He blew out the candles in the branch she had been reading by, the single one placed, he realized, to lure him into the room, then stood in the darkness looking at Julia’s door. Yes, there was a thin line of light along one edge. I am a lucky gambler, he thought. But no bet had ever seemed quite so important as this.
Chapter Twenty
Hal tapped on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. His wife was sitting up in bed, her arms around her knees and her chin resting on them. She seemed deep in thought. As she heard him, she raised her gaze from the foot of the bed and stared at him, her eyes wide and dark and mysterious. Female.
‘May I come in?’
Julia nodded, watching him as he came to sit on the end of the bed. It seemed she was content to let him speak.
‘I thought I should treat you as though we were both in experienced,’ Hal said without preamble, thinking his way through this, explaining to himself as much as her. ‘I was ashamed of my experience—of my experiences. I wanted to come to you like a bride groom who had been virtuous all his life.’ She frowned, a line of puzzlement between her brows that he wanted to kiss away.
‘So, I tried to make love to you in the obvious, simple, way. The bread and butter way.’ The frown vanished, and her lips twitched, just a very little. Heartened, he pushed on. ‘The way such a virtuous man, relying on instinct not experience, would make love to his new bride. I did not stop to think that, with my leg as it is, it was a foolish thing to do and that there were many other ways to make you mine, ways that would pleasure you far more.’
‘Cake love, not bread and butter?’ Julia asked, her eyes alight with amusement and something he rather hoped was excitement.
‘Plum cake with cream,’ Hal promised, aware that he was becoming most definitely aroused. His experience in sin, he realized, was not something to discard, but a gift he could give to this woman he had married.
‘Perhaps I would want cream cake every time,’ she mused, making him wonder where his delusion had come from that, because she was innocent, she must also need teaching to desire.
‘Occasion ally, a little bread and butter is welcome,’ Hal informed her, getting off the bed. He picked up the single candle and walked round to touch it to the wicks of the other dozen or so others that were placed around the room.
‘All those lights?’ She was biting her lip now, un certain. Hal realized how much he wanted to see her naked.
‘Of course, otherwise the cream could go anywhere.’ Hal began to undress, watching her steadily to gauge her responses, trying to keep the mood light.
‘That might be quite fun,’ Julia said demurely, making him grin. She had courage—he knew that already—but the glimpses of a wicked sense of humour were a constant surprise.
