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Chapter 12
Robert’s hot hands were all over her body. He was pressing her close to him while kissing her lips, her neck. His tongue felt like silk on her skin, scorching and soothing her at the same time. Julie felt hot all over. She was clinging to his arms, moaning to get more. More of what she didn’t know, she just never wanted him to stop. His hard body felt so good as she trailed her hands over him. His delicious weight pressing her into the sheets. She raised her head and placed her lips on him, wanting to feel his tongue caressing her lips again.
Julie woke up in her bed, sheets tangled between her legs. Her chemise rode up to her waist, her body hot, her breathing labored. It had been a week since Clydesdale left, and the seventh night in a row, she dreamed of him. That day in the study had turned her whole notion of him on its head entirely. She had never imagined the cold, dispassionate earl acting as he did back then. Holding her as if nothing in the world mattered, kissing her as if he wanted to devour her. Until he dismissed her, that is, without so much as a flick of his hand. But ever since, all she could think about was having his hands on her again, having his tongue inside her mouth. She never would have guessed that thought would be so alluring.
He, on the other hand, hadn’t seemed to feel any of the feelings Julie had rising to the surface. After he dismissed her from his study, he gathered his things and left for London the next morning. She couldn’t understand how someone could be so passionate and insistent one moment and indifferent the next.
He left without even saying goodbye, which was the most frustrating part. Robert entrusted the dowager with breaking the news to her and Mary. She understood he didn’t care enough to say goodbye to her, but he could have at least notified Mary himself. He left her a note, but that wasn’t much of a consolation to a child who was so wholly attached to him. He said he’d get the townhouse ready for them and that they should follow him in two or three weeks. Perhaps she was reading too much into his behavior. She wished he cared, so she attributed those qualities to him. He showed his true feelings by leaving them cold, without a single word. That would teach her to dream of better things.
Julie changed her mind between leaving it alone or confronting him every other hour. She didn’t remember the last time she got so emotional about anybody’s actions. It was probably the day her father shipped John off to the army. She thought about the letter she had to send him, notifying him she wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore, that she was getting married. She couldn’t even fathom the hurt she was inflicting on him with that letter—to be made aware that someone you care so deeply for was cutting you out of their life.
Julie shook her head. She had no intention of letting Clydesdale do that to her. It wasn’t enough that he was her husband; now he occupied every space of her thoughts. She was dazed and confused, and she kept thinking about him in the most inappropriate moments, most notably when the dowager was drilling some rule of conduct into her head. Julie had to do something about that, and fast.
She walked up to the dowager’s favorite sitting room and knocked lightly on the door.
“Come in,” the dowager said in a harsh voice.
Julie swallowed and opened the door. “Good day, Your Grace.” She curtsied and walked farther into the room. The dowager was sitting in a chair by the fire, her legs wrapped in an afghan, her spectacles sitting crookedly on her nose, a book in her lap. She looked as if she was dozing rather than reading.
“I don’t see how this day is any good.” The dowager scoffed.
Julie looked out of the window. The icy rain lashed at the windows, the weather gray and gloomy.
Julie took a deep breath and approached the dowager. “I wanted to talk to you about going to London,” she said, coming closer and sitting on the settee across from the duchess.
“What about London?”
“Mary keeps asking when we can reunite with Robert,” she said evasively. She didn’t want the dowager to know how much she wanted the same.
“Mary is a smart child. She knows people with good hearts; she is drawn to them.”
Julie swallowed a dig against her since Mary was not as drawn to her, even though she was her sister.
“Yes, well, she misses him, and I think there is no need for us to wait any longer. Journey with her will take a long time, anyway. Clydesdale will have plenty of time to prepare the townhouse for our arrival.”
“Mary can wait, as long as she is occupied here, she won’t mind too much for a few days. Why do you want to go to London?” The dowager narrowed her eyes on her. “Not enough gowns? Or perhaps your soldier is back on leave.”
Julie’s heart pinched hard at the mention of John. And an unpleasant feeling settled in her midsection at the dowager’s tone. She still didn’t trust her.
“Have I given you any reason to suspect me of mercenary motives or of infidelity?” Julie blurted out her first thought. Then bit her lip from saying more.
The dowager regarded her curiously. “No, but there’s not much entertainment here in the village. Let’s see how you behave among the ton,” she spat and sat straighter in the chair.
“In order for you to see anything, I actually have to be among the ton.” Julie stood, done with trying to please the old woman. “I will order the carriage to be readied by tomorrow if rain slows. I hope you don’t mind.” Without so much as by your leave, Julie strode to the door and exited the room.
She pressed her back against the door and breathed heavily, her heart pumping. She had never acted as disrespectful to the old duchess, and to tell the truth, she was a bit scared of her. All right, a lot scared of her.
It didn’t matter, tomorrow they would be on their way to London. She could at least mend the relationship with her husband. If they were amicable with each other as they’ve been the past few days before he left for London, living under the same roof as the dowager would be a lot more bearable. Perhaps she could order some new gowns that would entice him enough to finally come to her bed. She imagined his touch on her skin and got hot all over. She had to stop thinking of him all the time, she thought to herself and hurried to tell Mary the news of their trip.
* * *
Robert stood on the docks hugging his coat close to his body. It was extremely windy, the rain lashing against his face. He’d been standing like this for what looked like hours. He’d been in London for several days now, attending the Parliament, meeting up with his friends, however not doing the most important thing he set out to do when he made the trip.
Robert received the note the night before he hastily left for London, that Mr. Benjamin Tule, the York retreat manager, and the only person interested in changing the treatment of people held in asylums, was going to dock there any day. As Robert found a perfect excuse to escape his wife, he started for London immediately. Only Tule’s ship had been delayed due to weather. As a result, Robert had to spend time in London doing everything else.
Another reason for his London trip was Vanessa. He came here with every intention of resuming his relationship with her. To finally feel the comfort of her warm arms and the pleasure of the release he hadn’t felt since before his marriage. Only he didn’t do that either. For some reason, he kept stalling and putting off his visit to his mistress. A day turned into a week, so here he was, standing in the marina a sennight later, freezing his bullocks off and thinking that perhaps today wasn’t the best day to visit her either.
At that moment, he noticed his solicitor rushing toward him, a thin man in dark clothing walking by his side.
