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“Please, wrap this.” Julie handed the watch to the shopkeeper and walked to stand beside her husband. “Perhaps we can hang some in Clydesdale estate,” she said thoughtfully, “and others. We’ll need to decorate those houses too.”
Robert looked at her peculiarly before clearing his throat. “Of course. As a matter of fact, we have an estate in Sussex. The view from the balcony is similar to that first painting you picked out, Mary.”
“From my balcony?” Mary furrowed her brows.
Robert shrugged. “You can pick any room you like; several have balconies overlooking the sea.”
“The sea,” Mary said, her eyes widening in wonder.
“We can go there during the summer, once the season is over if you wish.”
“Hmm—Are all the estates as empty as the townhouse and Clydesdale Hall? Because if so, we must buy a lot more than a dozen paintings,” Julie said with a laugh. She was strangely looking forward to seeing more of their lands and mansions, making them more comfortable and lively.
Her father had four estates, although they mainly grew up in Bedford, his country seat. But neither of those places ever felt cozy to her. She didn’t feel at home in any of the rooms. Her father didn’t allow for any decorations, justifying it with the fact that neither of his daughters would live there long enough. They were unwanted guests in their own house.
Now, however, it seemed like Mary and she finally found a place of their own. Would Robert object to having his own rooms redecorated, she wondered. She suddenly had an amusing idea.
“I wonder if your daughter would be willing to paint the walls rather than on a canvas?” she asked the shopkeeper.
The plump old man perked up at the suggestion. “She would love that. We are actually running out of walls in my house.”
“What do you say, Mary? Do you want these landscapes on your walls?”
Mary’s eyes lit up in excitement. “Yes! In all of my rooms.” She nodded her head vigorously.
“I would love to have my rooms painted also,” Julie said thoughtfully. “The wallpaper seems outdated in both the London townhouse and Clydesdale Hall. I am guessing the countess’s chambers are not much different in other estates either.”
“I’ve never been a countess, and Rutland had become a duke when he was two, so you’re right,” the dowager finally spoke. She was perusing the painting and listening to their conversation. “Clydesdale title didn’t have a countess for a long time before you.”
Julie bit on the inside of her cheek before turning to Robert. “Would you like your walls painted as well?” At his dubious look, she continued with a smile. “We can ask the girl to paint something more manly than flowers and sunsets—perhaps the ship or the forest.”
“Or horsies!” Mary almost jumped in excitement.
“That’s right, we can have horses and hunting dogs painted.”
“Dogs!” Mary yelled and started clapping her hands.
Robert smiled at her before turning to his wife. “Painting all those rooms in each of my five estates will take a long time. Months,” he paused. “Years even.”
“Well, we don’t have to stay in Clydesdale Hall forever, do we? We can move to a new location after the painter is done with our rooms—” Julie paused as she realized what Robert had been hinting at by stating the timeline. The deal. She said she’d be moving to her own estate and living separately from him with Mary and the babe the next moment after she gave birth. It could be as soon as in nine months. She could be even now with child and not know it. Her stomach churned at the idea. But her mind was stuck on the fact that Robert still expected them to move away. Did she want to move? She knew Mary would protest greatly. Julie wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted anymore either.
“We don’t have to decide now,” she said and smiled tightly at her husband before turning to the shopkeeper. “We’ll just take the paintings for now.”
“As you wish, My Lady,” the shop owner bowed and started collecting the paintings to wrap for them.
* * *
Robert lay on his bed, eyeing the canopy over his head later that night. So far, the stay in London had been going well. He’d done some work on his estates, appeared in the Parliament, escorted his wife, grandmother, and sister-in-law to the theater, shops, fairs. Everything was going as well as could be expected. Mary seemed happy; Julie seemed content. Laughter rang inside his house; the meals were filled with female chatter and joyful exclamations. This was what he always wanted, wasn’t it?
As he tried to analyze his overwrought feelings, he realized it wasn’t enough for him anymore. Somewhere along the days and weeks, he spent with his wife, he started craving her affection. No, he started craving her love. It was a ridiculous thought since he wasn’t in love with her. Besides, he gave up on the foolish notion of love long ago, hadn’t he? Those hopes had died together with his unfortunate betrothal to Annie.
He promised himself he wouldn’t indulge in bedding his wife too often. He promised himself not to fall under her spell, not to let her be the center of his life. He promised himself to maintain distance from her.
She was enticingly beautiful, however. Her laughter was infectious, her smile mesmerizing, and her gaze downright erotic. At dinner, he had to suffer through watching her put all types of food in her mouth, lick her lips, and make satisfying sounds as she tried to entice Mary into eating. Mary didn’t care for her sister’s theatrics, but she was enticing an entirely different reaction from Robert.
He imagined as she put her lips around his cock, sucking on it, as she made those sounds of pleasure. Licking him up and down his length. He sat across from Julie during meals imagining her taking him in, licking him with her sweet tongue, sucking him in. His cock was on the ready and on alert with every Julie’s sound, move or look. Now that he’s been inside her and knew what she felt like, he couldn’t help but fantasize about it. He knew the smell of her orange blossom perfume mixed with her own lovely smell. He could feel the heat of her every time she sat next to him in a carriage.
Lying there, on his bed, he had to revise his feelings. If he didn’t crave her affection, then why wasn’t he spending his nights with her? The answer was simple. He didn’t want to grow too fond of her.
