His For The Taking (4 page)

"Bloody hell!" he
growled.

At the sound of the rattling door
handle, he drew in a sharp breath. Time to end this nonsense. Perhaps it was
all machinations devised by the old woman. Surely, Julianna knew him well
enough. Knew he would never hurt her on purpose. Blast it, hadn't he done that
already?

He raked his fingers through his
hair and wished he had never left Denbigh Hall. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be
thinking the unthinkable.

The friendship they shared brought
her closer to him than his own brother.

"No, no," he whispered.
It was the old girls doing. By God, why did Lady Chesterfield have to strip him
of greatest acquaintance?

He shook his head. One simply
didn't marry their best friend. Did they?

Damnation, he wasn't going to wait
for Lady Chesterfield to relent or for Julianna to forget the silly notion. He
was going reclaim his relationship.

Enough was bloody well enough. He
squared his shoulders and readied for battle against the old biddy.

But as the door opened, all the
bluster that filled his sails evaporated. For before him stood not his Julianna
but Constance Whitcomb, her oval face sparkling with blue eyed delight.

"Why Lord Denbigh how
wonderful to see you. Are those lovely posies for me?"

Constance
didn't give Jonathan an opportunity to answer. She grabbed the bouquet and held
it to her ample bosom. Blast his eyes for noticing the creamy white mounds that
rose above the pale blue bodice of her gown. She was a beauty but he realized
that when she smiled, it was not her smile he longed to see. In fact, if you
set her beside Julianna, she paled in comparison.

Her blond curls seemed bland next
to the rich brown locks that framed Julianna's heart shaped face. Her
expression vacant. Lips that begged to be kissed were thin, not soft and pink.
How had he not seen the grandeur of Julianna? How?

And was the grandeur he was now
seeing real or an illusion put into play by a conniving old woman and her
ruthless granddaughter?

Ruthless…indeed. Anger surged
through his body. He was being played by an aged master and her young minion.
Had Julianna played up to him, gained his confidence and then pulled the rug
out from under his feet? Well by God, he wouldn’t come crashing down.

"Do come in, Lord Denbigh. My
mother will be happy to see you. We are about to sit down to tea."

"Your mother?" Hell, this
day was getting better and better.

"Yes, she and I are
vacationing here at Oak Park while
Lady Chesterfield and Lady Julianna are away."

He froze over the threshold.
"Julianna isn't here?" Damn it, did his heart just sink in his chest?
What the bloody hell was going on with him? He was acting like a jilted lover.
Not the best friend he always supposed himself to be.

But no, Julianna played a game and
perhaps he stumbled but he refused to fall for the manipulation.

"No, she and her grandmother
have left." She stepped back into the house. "Why don't you join us?
I'm sure mother would love to hear all your news. It has been ages since you
last called on me."

Jonathan remained still, his mind
racing. Where had they gone? He knew Lady Chesterfield meant to find Julianna a
husband. But why leave Surrey so quickly? Julianna was
but three and twenty. She was hardly a moldering gourd.

"May I ask where Julianna and
Lady Chesterfield are?"

Constance
lowered her gaze and smoothed the skirt of her turquoise gown. "I do not
know. But I do know they won't be back for a month, maybe two." She lifted
her chin, her attention fully on him, her gaze direct and filled with longing.
"So, you see, Lord Denbigh, I am your new neighbor and I would very much
like for you to join me for tea. Perhaps Mother knows where Miss Julianna
is."

He lifted his brow and stared back
at her. At least her game was obvious. But if he were going to uncover
Julianna’s whereabouts, he'd have to play along. And when he found his
friend
he’d blast her for her treachery
and if she were with another man, he’d punch him in the nose for good measure.

"All right. I would very much
enjoy a cup." Oh how he wished he had a flask of whiskey in his pocket.
For it had been his experience that Constance Whitcomb was more easily digested
with a bit of alcohol.

***

"And they both fell off their
horses and into a large mud puddle!" Jane laughed, her freckled face
animated with her merriment.

Bennett looked to Julianna from his
perch on the edge of a wing back chair, his eyes flashing with cheer.
"Indeed, we were both covered in mud. Needless to say, Miss Eliza Sinclair
didn't wish for me to dine with her that evening."

"No!" Jane giggled, her
auburn curls bouncing around her pretty face as she enjoyed the joke. "In
fact, she never even asks me about you at all. You may as well have been buried
in that mud. For to her you are as good as dead." She leaned against Julianna
from her cushion on the settee, her lips to her ear as if they were long lost
friends. "And he wonders why he's still a bachelor."

Bennett shrugged his shoulders.
"If you can't laugh at mishaps, you're destined to cry." He offered
Julianna a brilliant smile. He was indeed a handsome man. Dark curls, angular
features and green eyes that gazed upon her with such passion, her stomach
fluttered each time she looked at him. "Have you ever been coated in
mud?"

"No," she said with a
grin. "I can't say that I've had that particular experience. But I did
once stumble into a creek and lost not only one of my favorite slippers but my
grandmother's silver comb."

"Oh," Grandmother said,
lifting a glass of sherry to her lips. "That's what happened to that
comb!"

Julianna frowned. "Really, you
knew I lost it. For you had Cook take a switch to my legs."

Grandmother nodded. "Yes, but
only because I couldn't bear to hurt you myself."

"I know," she admitted,
gazing down at the lace trim of her plum colored gown. "You have a tender
spot for me. That is certain and appreciated."

"I can understand that
sentiment," Bennett said standing. "You are a gem to be sure."

Heat shot to her cheeks and she
felt suddenly breathless. "Thank you, sir," she managed, taking in
his form as he moved toward the gray marbled fireplace. My, but he was a tall
man, his physique every bit as elegant as the black suit he wore. He stood
taller than Jonathan but where Jonathan's body was strong and sinewy, Bennett
was slender and graceful.

Jonathan. Why could he not think
her a gem? And why did every road lead back to him?

"I'm going to pop out into the
garden for a moment of fresh air. Jane? Julianna? Would you care to join
me?"

Jane sprang up from the settee and
grabbed hold of Julianna's hand. "Yes, let's!"

Julianna looked to Grandmother for
approval, a soft smile greeting her. "Enjoy the cool evening air and your
friends."

"All right." She brushed
a kiss across Grandmother's forehead. "But I won't be long. I don't wish
to keep you out too late."

"I'll be just fine,"
Grandmother said, shooing her away with a weathered hand. "Lady Nesbitt
and I have a lot to talk about."

"Indeed," Lady Nesbitt
inserted, snapping open her fan and fanning her large, round face. "You
children run along and have a grand time."

Bennett walked down the hall ahead
of the girls, Jane and Julianna close behind. The parlor had been warm and the
idea of fresh air appealed. But now, without the protection of her grandmother,
unease seemed to plague her steps.

Turning the corner toward the
double doors that led out into the dimly lit garden, Julianna's discomfort
eased and she couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement in the pit of her
stomach. It had been a long while since she was able to act as young as she actually
was. Since the loss of her parents, she had often lost sight of her youth. But
Bennett and Jane, they certainly did know how to laugh and play.

Stepping out into the garden at the
back of the modest home, Julianna savored the feel of the spring air as it
cooled her skin.

Jane lifted her arms wide and spun
around. "Oh do you smell the lilac?"

"Yes," Bennett answered.
"Why not go gather a few sprigs for the grandmothers."

"Yes, indeed," Jane
replied, scurrying down a narrow path and disappearing behind a large boxwood.

Alone with Bennett, Julianna felt
nervous and exposed. She crossed her arms over her chest. "She is so full
of life," Julianna commented, keeping her attention focused on the path.

"She is," Bennett said,
stepping a little closer to her. So close she could smell the spice of his
cologne, feel the warmth of his body. "She's lucky that way. But you, my
sweet Miss Julianna, you seem very sad. Your blue eyes give much away."

There was a tenderness in his voice
that sent a chill racing across her body. She slid him a glance. "I'm
well."

"Whoever has burdened you with
such sorrow should be ashamed. For when I said you were a gem, I meant
it."

He stepped in front of her, that
intense gaze coming to rest upon her face. She hugged herself tighter for he
leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. A kiss that set fire in her
belly, but not with want of him. But with longing for Jonathan.

She pulled back. "Bennett,
please."

"I'm sorry," he said.
"I'm too forward. But I want nothing more than to strip your misery away
and replace it with joy."

Could she do it? Could she forget
Jonathan and start over? Looking at Bennett with his handsome face aglow in the
bright moonlight, she realized that it felt good to have a man look at her the
way he did. Felt more than good. It was something she could become accustomed
to quite quickly.

"Thank you." She smiled
and he wrapped her fingers in the warm fold of his.

"Be assured, dear Miss
Julianna, tis indeed my pleasure."

Chapter Four

"Where is Julianna?" Jonathan
glared at Constance. She sat on the yellow settee at Oak
Park, in Julianna's favorite spot, and smiled. A smile
that enflamed every nerve in his body. She held all the cards. She was in
control and damn it all, it set his blood to boiling.

He tightened his jaw and his fists.
Damn her. Damn the staff. Damn the lot of them for feigning ignorance as to
Julianna’s whereabouts. He was beyond frustrated and if he didn’t need to know
where she was he would have easily vowed never to return to Oak
Park.

"I told you, she's
vacationing. Has probably left England
by now."

"Where? I need to know."
The frustration at having had to sit through teas and dinners was more than he
could bear. If he didn't get answers soon, he was just going to jump on his
horse and start looking for Julianna. He needed to see her. To tell her how
very angry he was with her. And yet, watching Constance
trying to replace Julianna infuriated him more.

"Why do you need to know so
badly?" she asked, tilting her head in a vain attempt to appear charming.
He had fallen for that once, months ago. But the glamour had worn off and all
he saw before him now was a simpering brat who always got what she wanted. And
she wanted him. "Are you in love with her?"

He pushed himself up from his chair
his hands shaking with upset. It was a simple question yet it bore so many
implications. "You ask too many questions and you do not answer
enough."

"I'll tell you all you need to
know, Lord Denbigh," she replied. "All you have to do is kiss
me." She too stood, boldly walking toward him, those sizable breasts
threatening to fall from the bodice of her white linen gown. Three months ago
he would have not only kissed her but made love to every inch of that
curvaceous body. But that was three months before Julianna had moved from the
corner of his life to front and center.

She stopped, but inches from his.
He could smell the soft scent of lilac, feel the warmth of her breath.
"Kiss me, Jonathan."

He leaned in, and she closed her
eyes, her lips moist and slightly parted, ready. She could be his, right there
on the settee at Oak Park. All she
offered, his for the taking. And yet, he didn't want just anyone.

Realization hit him so hard he
thought he may double over. Julianna's kiss, her leaving, the sight of another
woman in her house. He wanted Julianna. The old bird had been right. Had she
been right all along?

Constance
opened her eyes, her disappointment had her face falling her and lower jaw
trembling. "You aren't going to kiss me?"

"No, Constance. There is only
one woman I wish to kiss."

Her mouth twitched with her
irritation. "Julianna?"

He smiled and gently pushed her
away, clearing his path toward the door. "Yes, Julianna. Now you simply
must tell me where she is. I need to see her."

"Oh my God! You are in love with
her, aren't you?"

He stared at her dumbly for a long
moment. The question was pointed and direct. He sank down onto the seat of Lady
Chesterfield's chair and stared out the window into the back gardens. Did he
love her?

He missed seeing her face that was
certain. Missed the warm scent of her cinnamon perfume. Longed to hear the
sound of her laughter. The thought of never sitting on that settee by her side
had his stomach tied in knots.

The memory of Julianna in his arms
as he swept her on the dance floor filled his mind. How soft her body curved
against his. A body that he realized fit next to his with a perfection that
only God could have planned. And the kiss. A kiss meant to educate her had
taught him the most valuable of lessons. By God, she was meant to be his. How
had he not seen it before?

He swallowed past the lump of
realization that settled in his throat. By God, he did love her. Loved her with
all of his heart.