That Perfect Someone (24 page)

He got out of bed abruptly, as if he could read her thoughts. She blushed, but didn’t try to pretend she was already asleep. However, he didn’t glance down to see that she was still wide-awake, merely marched to one of the windows to open it. Some cool air filtered in, enough to make her snuggle deeper under the covers.

He stood in front of the window for a few moments. She turned on her side away from him before he returned to the bed. He snuffed out the dim lamp on his side before he got back in bed. No wonder she’d been unable to take her eyes off him! At least now the room was truly dark.

She moved about, trying to find a position that would lure her to sleep. Her knee accidentally touched his arse. She groaned and knew she ought to apologize. She hoped he was asleep and hadn’t even noticed.

He was quick to dash that hope. “Dammit, Jewels, I’m holding on by a thin thread here.” But then he apologized, “I’m sorry. We’ll laugh about this tomorrow—or at some point in the next century!”

His brief attempt at humor didn’t help. Thirty minutes later, she knew the darkness wasn’t helping to lull her asleep either. He was still only a foot from her, and she couldn’t get him out of her mind. So she was still wide-awake when the coach rumbled up the drive to the front of the house.

She sat up and would have gone to the window to see who was arriving at that hour of the night, but Richard beat her to it. “Bloody hell, what a wasted performance,” he said with a drawn-out sigh. “Father isn’t in his room. He hasn’t even been in the house.”

“Where would he have gone?”

“To find a London newspaper to see if banns really were posted, would be my guess. Damned old man can’t just take us at our word.”

“I should return to my room.”

“Stay where you are.”

“I’m really too tired now to go through all that laughter again.”

“So am I.” He turned away from the window with a slight grin. “But I still want the maid to find us here in the morning and report it to him.”

She groaned. She wasn’t going to get a bit of sleep tonight, she was sure.

Chapter Thirty-nine

R
ICHARD WAS AWAKE
long before the knock came at the door. What a hellish night. He’d hardly slept at all. Sharing a bed with Julia to strengthen the charade had seemed like such a good idea when it occurred to him. But he hadn’t taken into account what it would be like, having her luscious body next to him all night and being unable to touch it. He’d foolishly assumed he could keep his carnal urges at bay by concentrating on their unhappy past and the reason why they’d come to Willow Woods. More fool him.

He’d even reviewed in his mind every one of their prior vicious meetings. It didn’t help. She simply wasn’t that little monster anymore. She’d changed so much she was like a completely different person.

They could actually hold normal conversations without either of them getting angry. She laughed with him. She succumbed to his teasing. What a surprise and delight that had been! And what could he say about her rescue of him? Had it been self-serving as he’d first thought? Or was she simply possessed of enough compassion that she’d had to help him even though she hated him? Did she still hate him? He couldn’t even tell anymore.

Frankly, the changes in Julia amazed him—and enticed him. It had taken guts for her to come here to enact this charade after what his father had done. That was self-serving though. The contract meant nothing to him when he lived in a different part of the world now and would marry whomever he pleased when he was damned ready to. But she needed to destroy the contract so she could get on with her life and marry someone else.

He shook that thought off when whoever was at the door knocked again, and he called out, “Come in.”

Julia stirred beside him, but she didn’t awaken. Was she really that sound a sleeper? Or had she spent as hellish a night as he did? What an interesting thought, but he found it unrealistic. She might have succumbed to passion on Malory’s ship, but she’d been highly emotional at the time, and he’d been a cad to take advantage of that.

But, damn, she looked stunning now, like a sleeping angel with that ash blond hair spread out around her pillow. Aside from his first sight of her when she’d been a howling five-year-old with splotchy cheeks, she’d been a beautiful child. He should have known she’d grow up to be a prime piece.

The opening door drew his eyes away from Julia. A young maid came in with a pitcher of fresh water. She halted immediately upon seeing him still abed, a hot blush climbing her cheeks.

Obviously embarrassed, she started to back out of the room. In case she hadn’t noticed Julia, he said, “Leave the water,” so she’d come farther into the room and see his sleeping companion. But really, how could anyone miss that bright splash of white-gold hair?

Annoyingly, the maid nodded, but kept her eyes glued to the floor as she hurried to the washstand, then hurried back to the door without once glancing in his direction again. He sighed. There was no help for it but to spell it out for the maid, otherwise that hellish night he’d just endured would have been for naught.

“There’s no need for embarrassment. We’re getting married in a matter of weeks!” he said before the door closed.

She had to have heard him, although she gave no indication. But he reminded himself they weren’t going to need weeks. He was fairly confident he could find the contract after a few days of searching. His father might have set up numerous locked hiding places in the house, but they were located in only two rooms, his father’s study and his bedroom. The only thing that worried him was that if
he
were his father, he wouldn’t keep the contract locked away. Given the circumstances of their showing up so unexpectedly, he’d keep it on his person night and day. What a horrid thought.

Extremely annoyed now, he got out of bed and dressed. He walked to the bed to wake Julia, but stopped abruptly. He didn’t dare touch her when he could attribute some of his annoyance to still wanting her! That desire was riding him hard. He could have just nudged the side of the bed and said her name loudly to awaken her, but he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing her all warm and sleep-tousled, sitting up in bed in that revealing nightgown. He went downstairs for breakfast instead.

Unfortunately, his father was still at the table in the smaller breakfast room. After all these years, his gut shouldn’t twist up in Milton’s presence, but it still did. All those beatings in his youth had left a brutal mark. A hell of a thing, to associate a parent with pain—and nothing else.

“You’re late to this meal,” Milton said in disapproval as Richard took a seat across from him.

Richard stared at him. “Do I look like a child who needs to be told when to eat?”

“You look like the recalcitrant rebel you’ve always been.” Milton stared at the tail of hair Richard had allowed to fall over his shoulder. “Are you going to cut that for the wedding?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re going to embarrass this house—?”

“No one will give a damn what I look like, Father, and it’s not your decision, is it? Are we clear?”

Milton didn’t answer, possibly because of the servant who’d just arrived with a plate for Richard and set it down before him. Food predetermined. No choices to make. He grit his teeth, but then as quickly he relaxed his jaw. He was nitpicking. The food was tolerable and plentiful. At least his father didn’t skimp when it came to feeding himself and his family.

But Milton did seem to rub in that lack of choice as he admonished, “We eat at precisely eight in the morn, precisely at one in the afternoon, and precisely at seven in the evening. It allows the cook, who doesn’t have very many helpers, to plan her day accordingly.”

“Can’t imagine old Greta complaining about anything. She’s a wonderful cook and one of the few servants I remember fondly. And why haven’t I seen—?”

“I had to let Greta go. In fact, all of the old servants were fired long ago, replaced with young ones who don’t expect as much wage.”

From the expression on Milton’s face, Richard could see his father blamed him for that, because of the debt Richard had saddled him with. But Richard wasn’t going to discuss
that
again, if he could help it, when his father hadn’t resorted to the simple solution he’d wanted him to use—disowning him.

“’Fraid I’m not very fond of
precisely,
” Richard said, then conceded, “If there’s no food around when I feel like eating, I’ll make do.”

“And where is your bride this morning?”

“Still asleep,” Richard said, and immediately had that alluring image of Julia again in his mind.

“She’s accustomed to the late hours of the London crowd, I suppose?” Milton asked disdainfully.

Milton had never liked London. The upper crust who either lived there or frequented the city to enjoy the Seasons were mostly rich. He wasn’t. But his question provided a perfect opportunity to allude to how they’d supposedly spent the night.

“Not a’tall,” Richard answered his father. “I’m afraid it’s my fault for keeping her up late. But might I suggest you avoid using those nasty, offensive tones with her? She’s already having reservations about holding the wedding here, after the reception you gave us.”

Milton said something under his breath. Richard chose to ignore it and tried for a neutral topic. “The butler mentioned Charles should be back today. Is that correct?”

“Indeed. Your brother is very predictable, and dependable. He said he’d be back today and so he shall.”

Richard didn’t miss the implied insult in that statement. He could be quite dependable, though he’d rather not be predictable. But Milton admired those qualities, so Richard had strived to develop them as a child—until it became obvious that nothing was going to endear him to his own father. Richard gave up talking to the man and concentrated on finishing the meal. But Milton wasn’t fond of silence.

“You forgot to mention that army you brought with you. Cantel informed me about it.”

Richard raised a brow. “So that’s where you went last night? Afraid your lackey didn’t follow through on your orders and went to confront him about it?”

“The magistrate isn’t my lackey,” Milton mumbled. “And he’d already reported last week—,” he started to explain, but narrowed his eyes instead to ask pointedly, “Why did you try to hide such a large escort from me?”

Richard laughed. “You’re amazing, you know that? Does anything
ever
sit right with you? The simple fact is, we didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily by showing up with all those guards, which is why we left them down the road. And they’re not mine, they’re Gerald Miller’s. Shall I bring them to the house? They might as well be put to use and help with the remodeling.”

“Leave them where they are,” Milton said testily.

Richard laughed to himself. Had his father really thought he’d caught them in a lie? Obviously.

But for good measure Richard added, “Do you really think Julia’s father would let her come near this place unprotected, after what you did to me? They are her escort. I don’t need one. You and I know where we stand. If I didn’t
want
to marry her, you can be damned sure I wouldn’t be here.”

Chapter Forty

S
HE’D OVERSLEPT!
A
GLANCE
showed Julia that Richard hadn’t. He’d left her alone in his room. But why the deuce hadn’t he awakened her before he left? He knew the work crews were arriving today and would need her direction.

She rushed to her room, didn’t bother to summon her maid, just found a dress she could don without help, then hurried down the corridor again. But she stopped at the top of the stairs and took a deep breath, even took a moment to braid her hair. The hall below was empty. The crews hadn’t yet arrived. She was being silly trying to create a crisis just so she wouldn’t have to think of last night. But those thoughts assaulted her now with a vengeance.

Never again was she going to subject herself to that sort of frustration, not for any reason. Richard had been true to his word and hadn’t touched her again after that kiss! The one time she could have wished he wouldn’t be so honorable, and he was. Of course, she’d insisted that they avoid any physical contact in bed, but she’d had no idea how difficult and uncomfortable it would be. But if he really believed that sleeping in the same bed again was absolutely necessary, then they would bloody well do it properly and not pretend. No indeed, and she’d be perfectly clear that she was willing to make that sacrifice for the sake of the charade.

She groaned to herself and continued down the stairs. She wasn’t going to say any such thing to him. He might not only take offense at her choice of words in referring to making love to him as a sacrifice—but, really, how else could she put it when she certainly couldn’t say that she
wanted
to make love to him?—but he might also not like her taking control of the charade when it was his plan, not hers.

She found Richard in the breakfast room. Unfortunately, the earl was there as well.

Richard stood up as she appeared in the doorway. “Bad timing, love, I’ve just finished.”

He was going to leave her there alone with his father? She put on a smile for him. “I’d prefer a walk before I eat anyway. It’s such a beautiful morning.”

“Breakfast won’t be served much longer,” Milton said.

Was that a censuring look he just gave her? Still no improvement in his attitude then? Or maybe he hadn’t been informed yet about their sleeping arrangements. She tried to recall how she’d felt after she’d
really
made love. Utterly tranquil, tender, benevolent—happy.

She turned a serene smile on the earl. “Won’t it? I didn’t notice the time. I still enjoy walking before I eat. I usually ride, but I didn’t bring my horse—or do you have mounts in your stable?”

“Aside from Charles’s mount and Mathew’s pony, just coach horses. I don’t ride myself.”

“Do you think Charles would mind if I borrow his horse?”

“I do,” Milton said.

“I don’t,” Richard added, giving his father a reproving look.

Milton ignored his son and told her, “There are no saddles for females.”

The man really was determined not to be accommodating. It was becoming laughable, but she refrained and simply said, “No matter. A walk will do.”

Richard took her arm and got her out of there before anything more unpleasant occurred. She sensed his tension. He was bristling, actually.

“That was difficult?” she guessed as he led her outside.

He started down the long drive, away from the house. No demonstrations for his father planned for this walk apparently.

“He can’t even be civil to you! He was never this obnoxious or unpleasant before. Of course he always got furious when one of us broke his rules, but after administering the punishments, he went back to ignoring Charles and me, or just treating us normally.”

“What do you mean by ‘normally’? The way a normal parent treats his children?”

“No, not that. If he cared about either of us, he never showed it. His attitude was more like he’d treat a guest in his house, cordial, but without any sentiment. I wonder if the gambling debts I saddled him with pinched his pockets a little too much and have turned him this bitter. This place was never run-down like this before I left home. He was never, ever extravagant back then. We never had the best of anything, in fact he did harp on expenses from time to time, but we didn’t live like paupers either. It must bite hard, that he’s had to let the place get so run-down.”

Richard turned them around to head back to the house. She hated to see him so upset and felt a strong urge to hug him.

Instead she quickly said, “Perhaps your father is being so unpleasant because he just doesn’t believe us.”

“Or he’s guessed why we’re here,” Richard said with a groan.

That thought worried her as well. “Do you really need to extend this in order to visit with Charles? Can’t you arrange a visit with him after we’ve accomplished our goal?”

“Indeed, I actually tried to get into my father’s study last night while he wasn’t downstairs, before I came to your room. It was locked. And one of the footmen suddenly appeared, as if he’d been hiding in the shadows, and told me my father wasn’t in there. The damned fellow
could
have told me he wasn’t even home, but he didn’t.”

“You think the contract is in there?”

“That would be the most likely place. If a servant continues to be stationed outside the study, I’ll have to attempt access from the outside through a window. He had a locked floorboard under his desk as I recall.”

She chuckled. “He locked the floor?”

He grinned with her. “Actually, yes. He had a box that fit under the floorboard, and a keyed lock was set into the board, so it can’t be lifted without the key. But he was fanatic about not leaving money around for servants to steal, so that’s not the only place to look. One of the drawers on his desk also has a key lock. For that matter, all three of the top drawers on his bedroom bureau have locks, as does the little chest he keeps his watches in. And come to think of it, there’s even a locked door inside his clothes room.”

“It’s not for a bath?”

“No, there’s a separate room for his bath on the other side of the wardrobe. Charles and I always wondered what he kept in there, but we never found out. We were punished once for being in his bedroom, so we never went there again.”

She groaned. “How on earth are you going to obtain that many keys?”

“Wasn’t planning to. I brought a set of tools that can serve as keys.”

She had no clue as to what he meant. “Oh?”

“Jeremy Malory, James’s son, offered them to me before we left London. They belonged to his wife, Danny. Jeremy said his father suggested the loan.” Richard snorted with a shake of his head. “There’s something absolutely wrong with James Malory helping me.”

“Why? He’s a nice man.”

“The devil he is. Did you know he used to be a pirate?”

“I’d heard joking references to it, but I didn’t believe it.”

“It’s true.”

“How do you know?”

“Gabby’s father saved his life long ago and told me the whole story.”

“Go on with you.” She laughed. “I’m still not believing it.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t believe I used to be a pirate, too?”

She laughed harder, couldn’t help it. But since her amusement wasn’t amusing
him,
she choked it off and tried to present a serious expression. And failed.

He ended up rolling his eyes at her and adding, “Would you believe I was a treasure hunter?”

That was too intriguing to scoff at. She gave him a curious look. “Really?”

He no longer looked annoyed with her and nodded. “My old captain is enamored of treasure hunting, always has been, and has finally made it his only occupation.”

“Have you ever found any treasure?”

“Enough for me to continue to find the chase extremely exciting. Ask Gabby. My captain is her father.” They’d reached the house, but instead of opening the door, he glanced down at her and asked, “Do you really like to ride?”

“It’s one of my passions.”

“One?”

She blushed. Definitely a poor choice of words around him. But she was saved from answering when he turned abruptly at the sound of a coach approaching the house.

“Charles?” she wondered.

“I hope so.”

And in fact his brother bounded out of the coach before it quite stopped and engulfed Richard in a bear hug. “What are you
doing
here?” Charles exclaimed. “I thought—”

Richard quickly cut him off. “I’ll explain this visit later.”

“And Julia?” Charles gave her a smile. “Does this mean—?”

“Yes,” Richard said, eliciting a delighted laugh from his brother.

Julia managed not to frown. Richard wasn’t going to confide in his brother about their charade? But then she guessed that he simply didn’t want to take the chance of being caught there on the porch discussing it. It would take quite a bit of explaining.

The door to the coach hadn’t stopped swinging, but as soon as the coach came to a full stop, a small hand pressed it still and a young boy stepped down. A handsome boy who very much resembled his father, but looked quite reserved now, and confused.

Charles said to his son, “Come meet your uncle, Mathew.”

Richard knelt down and held out his arms to the boy. But Mathew was shyly hesitant, glancing at his father for guidance.

Charles smiled. “He’s my brother, Mathew. The only one I’ve got.”

The boy finally grinned in understanding and rushed forward. It was such a touching moment, Julia almost cried as she saw the tender look on Richard’s face as he held his nephew for the first time.

Then Milton opened the front door and, with a delighted smile, held out
his
arms to the boy. Mathew laughed and ran to his grandfather for a hug.

“Did you miss me?” Mathew exclaimed.

“You know I did,” Milton said, and took the boy inside the house.

Richard stood up slowly. “My God, pinch me, I didn’t just see that.”

Charles chuckled beside him. “I warned you he’s on his best behavior around my son. To Mathew, he’s everything a grandfather should be.”

Richard glanced at his brother sharply. “You mean the father we never had?”

“Yes.”