Chapter Eight

Graham had fully expected to have Juliet refuse his hand when he walked up to her, despite her consent earlier at dinner. Now that he had her alone and in private, there was so much to say, he didn’t know where to start.

Once they moved far enough away from the doors to be observed, he decided the best way to start the conversation was not with words. He swept her around, and taking her head in his hands, lowered his mouth to hers. His insides exploded with need as he met with her lips, moist, warm, and inviting. She opened, and he swooped in, tangling with her tongue, performing a dance that would lead them where his body desperately wanted to go. Her body seemed to agree as she sagged, and her hands moved up to grip his arms.

“Lady Juliet?” The soft feminine voice rang out in the night air, causing them to split apart, panting heavily, staring at each other.

Juliet took in a deep breath. “Yes, Lady Crampton. I’m over here.” She began to move, but he took her arm and they strolled back toward the patio together.

“Fix the sides of your hair,” he mumbled under his breath.

Juliet released her hand, and patted her hair, then took his arm once more.

Lady Crampton stood on the top step of the patio. “I don’t think it is wise to be out here alone, my dear.” She cast a look at Graham. “I’m sure you understand, my lord. It would not do to have Lady Juliet’s reputation called into question.”

He offered her a stiff bow. “You are absolutely correct, madam. I apologize for my thoughtlessness. May we have your permission to remain on the patio, in view of the room?”

“Is that what you wish, Juliet?”

“Yes, please. Just for a few moments. It was quite warm in the drawing room.”

Lady Crampton dipped her head. “I shall expect you inside shortly.” With a final warning glance at Graham, she turned and glided through the French doors.

He grinned at her. “I’m afraid I am not used to you having such a stalwart chaperone.”

“Yes, Papa felt he wasn’t doing a good enough job of guarding his daughters’ reputations.”

Graham had heard rumors that Juliet’s sister and her husband, Lord and Lady St George had welcomed their first born a mere six months after the wedding. That had been a matter he had never considered until he was well on his way to Paris with Amy. He could have left Juliet in the same condition. With her unable to contact him. Every time he thought about that, he felt as though a bucket of cold water had been tossed on him.

“Juliet, we need time together. Alone. I don’t believe I have yet to convince you I am serious in my wish for us to marry. I do not consider you a woman of easy virtue, nor do I wish to have an affair with you. I want you for my marchioness. That had always been my plan.”

“Yet, you still have not told me to where you hied off to last year without so much as a by-your-leave.”

He took both of her hands in his, and kissed her knuckles as he gazed at her. “You must believe me that I am unable to tell you. It was a promise I made to someone who means a great deal to me. Please just believe it had nothing to do with us, or my feelings for you.”

“What are your feelings for me?”

The moment had arrived. He’d known for some time that he was hopelessly in love with Juliet. He wanted nothing more than her by his side for the rest of his life. A life he would find desolate without her in it.

Still haunted by her possible rejection, nevertheless, he took her by the shoulders. “I am in love with you. So desperately in love that I am a candidate for besotted gentleman of the year. I want you for my wife, the mother of our children. One word from you, and I will visit with your father and sign the marriage contracts.”

She studied him for a full minute, apparently trying to see what was in his eyes. Which at this point was his heart.

“Lady Juliet, Lord Hertford, I believe the games are beginning and I know you don’t want to miss out.” Lady Crampton stood at the door, apparently not budging from her spot until her charge returned to the drawing room. Virtue and reputation intact.

Graham took Juliet’s elbow and leaned close to her ear. “There is a picnic tomorrow. Tell Lady Crampton you cannot attend because you are suffering from a megrim.”

She glanced at him but didn’t answer. It was the last time he could speak with her for the rest of the night.

***

The next afternoon, Graham joined the rest of the party at the front of the house, awaiting the carriages and wagons that would transport them all to the picnic area Lady Colborne had selected.

He remained intent on the gathering of guests, hoping Juliet had, indeed, stayed behind with complaints of a megrim. Whether she did or did not, he would travel with the group to the picnic area to keep Lady Crampton from suspicion. Once the activities had begun, he would slip away and join her in her room.

Unless she had decided against his plan.

He held his breath when Lady Crampton and Lady Marigold walked through the front door to join the picnickers. He watched the door to see if Juliet would join them. When the crowed began to move forward, chatting away and arms linked, Lady Crampton and Lady Marigold moved with them, with no indication they were waiting for Juliet.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

***

Juliet paced in her room, calling herself any number of foolish names. She must have been out of her mind to agree to Graham’s plan. Not only had she lied to Lady Crampton, who was fast becoming a treasured friend, she was leaving herself open to ruination if anyone got wind of his plan.

More than once she reached for her shawl and bonnet as she watched the picnickers climb into the vehicles headed to the picnic area. Then, remembering what she and Graham had shared before, she dropped the articles on the bed and continued her pacing.

For over an hour after the last carriage left, she vacillated between terror and excitement. She attempted to read, but threw the book down after reading the same page four times. She paced. She tried her hand at the embroidery piece she’d brought with her, but after tearing out fifteen minutes’ worth of work, she cast that aside, also.

She was staring out the window when there was a light scratch at the door. She flew across the room and flung open the door. Graham leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a rakish smirk on his lips. “I’ve come to soothe your megrim.”

Reaching out, she yanked him into the room. “Are you crazy? There are servants up and down these halls all the time.”

He took her in his arms. “They are paid to remain silent.”

Juliet snorted, thinking of past employees of her father who had a penchant for gossip. Before she could dispute him, he tugged her close and cupped her cheeks. “I love you, Juliet. I know there is much more to be said between us, but you must believe me when I say that I cannot live the rest of my life without you.”

She’d fought it as long as she could. Her eyes tearing, she said, “I love you, too. I tried so hard to hate you, forget you, ignore you, but it is not working.” She pulled away and hugged herself. “But I am so afraid. I could never survive another broken heart.”

“I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you. You must believe me.” He reached out to her. She regarded accepting his hand as the final step in sealing the bond between them that had been broken. Slowly, she raised her hand and joined it with his. With a groan, he pulled her close, lifting her into his arms and laying her on the bed, coming down on top of her.

His lips were everywhere. On her cheeks, her eyelids, her mouth, jaw, and the soft skin under her ear. At the same time, her hands were frantically tugging on his cravat, flinging it to the floor and licking and sucking the skin at the base of his neck. Graham’s hands reached behind her and his delft fingers undid her gown, then the ribbons of her stays.

Within minutes they were both naked, skin-to-skin, breathless and hearts pounding. “Oh, God, I dreamt of this for months.” Graham smoothed the hair from her face. “You are so beautiful, and I adore you,” he croaked.

Juliet was having a hard time holding back her tears. For so long she’d relegated their prior love making to the ‘never again’ part of her brain. She studied his mouth, his lips full and moist. “Show me.”

He took her lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss, almost as if worshipping her mouth. Little nibbles, tender brushing with his tongue, and soft touches. As much as she enjoyed his tender ministrations, he left her mouth burning with fire. Taking things into her own hands, she kissed him with a hunger that shocked her.

Graham joined her fevered pitch, smothering her lips with demanding mastery. After marking her mouth as his, he moved down, his lips touching her nipple with tantalizing possessiveness. He nipped, then soothed the turgid peak. Juliet threw her head back when he suckled hard. “Yessssss.”

She felt his lips widen to a grin as he placed kisses all over her body. She reached for his cock, and squeezed, eliciting a guttural groan. He moved his mouth down, forcing her to release him, stopping to encircle her belly button with his tongue, then continue until he reached the curls at the juncture of her thighs, already moistened from is kisses. He spread her legs and hooked them over his shoulders. She’d never felt so open, so exposed in her life. Yet, the desire to have him continue compelled her beyond all reason.

The first lick had her moaning, the second, third and fourth brought a rush of pleasure she’d remembered from their last coupling. Her breath caught and every color she’d ever seen flashed in her mind as she twisted and gripped the bed covers, and bit her lips to keep from crying out.

“Ah, sweetheart, I love the expression on your face when you reach pleasure. But this will not be the only time. We have a few hours before the others will return. I intend to produce that look many times.” He dropped her legs and crawled up her body, resting comfortably between her legs.

Still not having recovered, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. “That was wonderful,” she gasped. He lowered his head and kissed her. She tasted herself on his lips, musky, sensual, and oh, so naughty. Just like his tongue.

His manhood pushed against her side, hard and pulsing. She covered it with her hand and Graham sucked in air through his teeth. “What say you we get on with it before I disgrace myself, and we have a repeat performance or two so we can take our time?” He rose on his elbows and studied her. “I’m afraid I have been far too anxious to bed you to last very long this first time.”

***

Her answer was a deep kiss as her hips rose to meet his. Taking her movements as consent, Graham placed his cock at her entrance, and slowly slid in, both holding their breath at the wonderful sensation of their joining.

He rested his head in the crook of her neck, as feelings of love, possession, and homecoming swept over him. This was what he’d waited for all his life. This feeling of completion that only Juliet could bring him. No matter how many women he’d bedded, he’d never felt this way before. He wanted her, and only her.

He set the rhythm that would transport them both to a magical place where only lovers dwelt. The place where he and Juliet were bound, where they gave everything of themselves to each other.

Holding nothing back.

Graham covered Juliet’s mouth with a soul-crushing kiss to block her scream as he poured his life force into her. With a shattering finish, he collapsed onto her, then quickly rolled and pulled her against his side. Their arms wrapped around each other, they lay panting, the air filled with the scent of their coupling, of the sound of their heartbeats, and the whoosh of their lungs gasping for air.

***

A few days later, the house guests all gathered in the ballroom for the final night of the house party. Gentry from the adjoining village had been invited as well. The dinner preceding the ball had been noteworthy, the food superb, and the wine excellent. Graham’s only complaint was not having Juliet next to him for the meal. Their hostess had properly rearranged seating for each dinner so all the guests could interact with each other.

Graham was frustrated at the lack of opportunity he had to be alone with Juliet after their rousing bouts of love making the afternoon of the picnic. He was anxious for the party to end so he could visit with her father, state his intentions, and work out the marriage contracts.

Followed by a short betrothal.

He had been concerned the night following the picnic when Lady Crampton made a point of mentioning how she missed him, with all the guests and activities that afternoon. The look in her eye told him she had strong suspicions his disappearance had a lot to do with Juliet’s megrim.

Which was probably why he and Juliet had not been left unchaperoned for the rest of the party. Lady Crampton and Juliet had been joined at the hip for the remainder of the time. He would not be surprised to learn the companion had taken to sleeping in front of Juliet’s bedchamber door each night.

As much as he would have liked a repeat performance of that afternoon, he soothed his continuous raging erection with the thought of soon having Juliet in his bed every night for the rest of his life.

He hoped when they got down to actual negotiations, she would permit a quick wedding. Generally, such a happening was viewed by the ton as a necessity to save the girl’s reputation. He and Juliet might have a few raised brows cast in their direction, but he knew from Lord and Lady St. George’s new babe arriving early that gossipers soon turned their attention and condemnation to other nefarious matters.

Graham waited at the entrance to the ballroom, sipping a glass of champagne, and swapping stories with Lord Applebaum and Mr. Demming. He nodded politely and offered a comment when necessary, but his attention was riveted on the door, waiting for Juliet to appear.

After what seemed like hours, Lady Crampton, Lady Marigold, and Juliet appeared at the entrance to the ballroom. Graham sucked in a breath and was completely mesmerized. Juliet wore a simple gown of lilac, with a silver transparent overlay. Her shiny, thick hair had been pulled back into a loose topknot, with delicate curls dangling at the side of her lovely face. Tiny earbobs swayed as she walked toward him, a gold locket resting on the creamy mounts of her luscious breasts. Precisely where he wanted to place his lips.

Time.

“Hertford?” Demming nearly shouted in his ear.

He turned. “What?”

“What? I’ve asked you the same question three times.” He glanced in the direction Graham studied, and chuckled. “Ah, so it seems our friend here is about to step into the parson’s mousetrap. My sympathy, old boy.”

“Sod off, Demming.” Graham shot him a churlish look and left the two men standing there with smirks on their idiot faces. He joined Juliet as the three women stopped to chat with several of the female guests.

He walked up behind her and grasped her elbow. Juliet turned toward him, and broke into a smile that warmed his insides, and he swore brought sunshine into the candlelit room.

He bowed over her hand. “Good evening, Lady Juliet.”

God, how he loved addressing her so formally when he had memories of holding her naked and panting in his arms as she broke apart, calling his name. It was enough to bring his cock to a military salute. Something he would have to suppress, and soon, if he were to remain in the ballroom.

“May I request a dance?”

She viewed him with a slight smile, and humor in her eyes. “I will see if I have room, my lord.”

He leaned in. “You better have lots of room, darling.”

“Shh.” She glanced sideways at Lady Crampton who was in the middle of a conversation with their hostess and didn’t seem to have heard him. In any event, he did need to take care until he’d spoken with her father, signed the contracts, and the betrothal officially announced. It couldn’t be soon enough for him.

The orchestra started up a waltz, and he extended his elbow, his brows raised. “My lady?” Juliet rested her fingers on his arm and they made their way to the dance area.

Holding her in his arms was wonderful and torture. He wanted them away from the crowd, alone, in bed, naked. He had to tamp down his lust or he would disgrace himself.

They waltzed, dipping and moving around the room, chatting amiably. The candlelight highlighted the blonde in her hair, and cast her complexion into a golden glow. He was mesmerized, and sure she would keep him that way for the rest of his life.

The music stopped, and he escorted her to the refreshment table. He’d only taken a sip of champagne when he was approached by a footman. “My lord, this message just arrived for you.” The man held out a cream-colored vellum with the Duke of Reading’s crest on it.

“Thank you,” he nodded at the man. He opened the missive and his stomach muscles tightened.

My Lord Marquess,

Please return to London forthwith. The Duke of Reading has passed, and per the late duke’s wishes, your presence is required.

Elijah Reynolds, Esq.

Solicitor to His Grace the Duke of Reading