Chapter Four
Romola’s wedding had finally arrived, and she had picked out her trousseau, which was neatly packed away.
The cream wedding dress had every traditional aspect she had spent her life dreaming of, and she was awaiting the arrival of her maid to help her prepare.
Happily, she had her dressing gown on and was drinking her chocolate as she awaited the pleasures of the day.
In the meantime, Romola had drawn a present out of her valise. Oftentimes there was an exchange of gifts on a wedding day, and with careful hands she held up the beribboned novel, which she could not wait to give to Julian.
“Romola?” Millie slipped into the chamber and gave her a tentative smile.
Her cousin looked nervous, as if she had bad news to relay, but before a full sentence could slip from her mouth, there was the rapid sound of footsteps behind her, and then, to Romola’s dismay, her future mother-in-law appeared at Millie’s shoulder.
Here was the lady who had ruined her and Julian’s one-time love, and it was clear why she had journeyed down to London—she meant to try again.
Fear gripped Romola’s chest, but she was not a defenseless sixteen-year-old anymore—she was a woman of position and power, whom Julian McGregor loved, and she would not be daunted again.
“Madam.” She bowed her head in greeting.
So much for Julian’s reassurance that his mother was safely secluded on the Fife estate, and would being patiently awaiting their arrival after the honeymoon.
It seemed that his letters to her had been ignored, and she thought her presence would sway her son again.
“I will take care of her ladyship, Emillia,” Romola said with as much confidence as she could.
Millie did not look convinced by the situation.
The normally gentle and friendly aura that she was known for vanished as she stared at Lady McGregor, and Romola wondered what on earth her ladyship might have said to the younger woman.
Moving her gaze with dislike from Lady McGregor back to Romola, Millie said, “I will be just down the hallway if you need me.”
Lady McGregor swept farther into Romola’s chamber, her cold, hard eyes ignoring the laid-out wedding dress and lace-trimmed veil, as well as the visible discomfort she left in her wake.
The disdain seemed to waft off her as she looked Romola full in the face, daring the younger woman to stand up to her. “You have no shame.”
“What shame should I have?”
“The shame of knowing your position. If you loved him, you would simply be his mistress, but it is the Campbell in you who wishes to destroy him. If you are even capable of love.” She made a doubtful little noise before continuing.
“You would not tarnish his good name with the impure blood of…” She could barely contain her shudder, nor find adequate words to insult Romola further.
Finally, she settled on shaking her head and saying, “Evil, devilish girl.”
“I have been accepted by my brother—a duke, no less. I am loved by my sisters and cousin. Your son wishes to marry me. Nothing else will sway me. Certainly not your prejudice. There were many wasted years when Julian and I kept our distance, but we do not need to do that anymore. It is resolved. We will wed. There is no disparaging remark or threat you can make to me to change my mind.”
Lady McGregor made an inelegant spluttering noise, as if she were partly choking. “What if I managed to find your mother’s people, brought them forth, and had them proclaim what a whore your mother was, and how you’re no better?”
“Then you would be insulting your son and damaging the children we might have in the future. It will have no effect on me.”
To Romola’s shock, Lady McGregor looked ready to commit a murder—in fact, if the woman had within her grasp a pistol, Romola had no doubt that would have been her fate. She dared not turn her back on Lady McGregor, and yet all she wished to do was leave—after all, what else was there to tell her?
It was as Lady McGregor balled her fists, in seeming preparation to attack Romola with her bare hands, that the doorway banged open and three people rushed into the bedchamber.
Julian came to Romola, wrapping his arms around her, and hot on his heels were Hugo and Millie. Over Julian’s shoulder, Romola caught Millie’s eye, and her cousin smiled and said, “I went directly to Hugo, and Julian was in his study.”
Mouthing thank you at her, Romola was fully enclosed in Julian’s arms, the warm safety and security she had always longed for, as her fiancé kissed her hair.
It was also a relief to see that Hugo had positioned himself close to Lady McGregor, clearly not trusting the older woman an inch. Such proximity to a Campbell did not thrill Lady McGregor at all.
“Enough, Mother,” Julian said with steely resolve, as he looked his mother over.
“The past sins of our mutual families are to be put aside. They do not matter when compared to the potential we have for happiness. We must not let them interfere any more than they already have. If you can see that, then I will have to make arrangements for you to leave the Byre and move elsewhere.”
“As if I would stay to see a whore Campbell in my position,” spluttered Lady McGregor, her usually pale cheeks a crimson red.
“Very well,” Julian said, “if that is your decision, we will respect that and find a property a great distance from us and all you have known. I will not have anything endanger my future wife.”
“Come, madam.” Hugo had Lady McGregor by the elbow. “I think there is a hotel my staff can take you to, and stay with you,” he added with emphasis, “until that property is available.”
He and Millie led Lady McGregor from Romola’s chamber, leaving the affianced couple alone.
Blushing, Romola looked up into Julian’s face. She wanted to apologize for the pain he must be suffering, and for the choice his mother had forced him to make, but the expression on his face stopped her.
“I was so frightened when Millie hurried in. I feared the worst.” He shook his head, seeking out Romola’s mouth and kissing her fully.
He was sweet temptation, and as Romola lifted her hands into his hair and felt his soft curls, she was distantly aware that they were alone, she was only wearing her dressing gown and chemise, and, most shocking of all, they were in her bedroom.
On went their kiss, passionate and full bodied as they explored each other.
Julian’s mouth trailed down her throat, his tongue awakening her senses and making her gasp.
She had long kept this side of her—curious, sensual, and alive to the possibilities of pleasure—hidden.
It was Julian who brought out these feelings and a need to know it all.
Together they collapsed back on to her bed, with her draped over him. A small giggle slipped from her lips as Julian watched her face, a question dancing over his features.
“God yes,” Romola said as she kissed him again. “I have waited long enough. Haven’t you?”
Pushing a strand of hair off her face, Julian kissed her again, smiling with a great amount of excitement writ large on his face. “I mean, we are about to get married today.”
“We can’t be late.”
“Of course not.” Julian kissed her again, and Romola completely forgot such resolve within a minute.
Julian divested Romola of her dressing gown, and her hands caught and pushed away his jacket.
The latent passion they had kept quiet for years had left them desperate to know more as they struggled to get closer to each other’s naked bodies.
How she longed to see him bared and real and true before her.
Finally, when they were naked, a small amount of nerves claimed her, and Julian pulled her bedsheets over their heads, shielding them and locking them away from the outside world as he explored her body with his fingers, mouth, and tongue, finding out the little, secret pleasures of her flesh.
His whispered words and compliments rained down on her and gave Romola confidence as Julian’s head dipped between her thighs.
When his tongue parted her sex, and tasted her, Romola’s half-shouted response sent shivers through her body, and his further exploration sent greater awareness through her.
The feeling grew and grew, leaving her grasping at the bedsheets, clinging to Julian’s shoulders as he plundered her.
His wicked mouth drove her up and up, cresting a wave of desire, until all that was left was him and the sensation of pleasure that swept her away with a burst of golden light.
Then he was moving on top of her, kissing his way from her core over her belly to her breast and her neck.
“Shall I continue?” he asked against her mouth. Romola could feel the press of his inflamed manhood against her slippery entrance, and she wanted him inside her more than she wanted her next breath.
She rubbed her hands down his back, feeling her way over his strong muscles until she cupped the rounded curve of his arse.
Digging her fingers into the plush shape, she urged him on as she pressed kisses to his beloved face.
When Julian slipped inside her, Romola could not contain the sigh of relief and craven need satisfied.
She had wanted this, needed him for a decade, and now, finally, he was at one with her.
There was no pain. She was too ready for him.
Then he started to move, and it was as if a new world was opening before her.
Of course, she had known a little bit about the sexual act, from snippets snatched from the servants, the occasional remark from her Aunt Caroline, the inappropriate suggestions from a nobleman who’d thought, because of her birth, that Romola might welcome such an offer.
But none of these things had prepared her for how every aspect of her body was awake to the feeling of Julian.
His breathing. His movement. The way her limbs now moved in connection with him.
How his hands were placed above her head as he rocked deep inside her.
Their eyes met and locked. “I love you,” she said. There was sweat on his brow and Romola could not look away. Tears formed and spilled over. She could not believe how lucky she was to finally be reunited with him.
Pausing the seductive movement, Julian asked, “Am I doing anything wrong?”
“No, it’s simply too much. All of it is so…”
“So…?” He looked a little nervous, fearful he might be causing her an ounce of pain. His dear concern was touching.
“It is so good,” she answered, and was pleased that he smiled in response.
“Here, how does this feel?” Julian said as he adjusted the rolling of his hips, and his left hand snaked down her body, seeking out the juncture between her thighs.
Gently, whilst watching her face, he stroked her further, smiling as Romola gasped and stretched, new sensations taking hold of her flesh and sparking delight behind her eyes.
“Julian,” she sighed as he started to move again, her body responding with enthusiasm to the desires he stoked within her.
On he moved, driving her closer and closer with each thrust toward that golden glow she’d loved just minutes ago.
“Please…” Her voice was not her own, raspy and needful as desperation latched on to them and sent the pair over the edge together, the burst of pleasure flooding them both.
Sated, they lay together as minutes ticked by.
Julian eventually brought over a washbowl and smoothed some of the water over her limbs as Romola snuggled into the bedding.
Distantly she knew she needed to rouse herself, but she was grateful when he climbed back under the sheets and pulled her close.
Sleepily Romola snuggled into his body. “I got you a wedding present.”
“I wasn’t expecting anything else.” He kissed her forehead with such soft sweetness that Romola could swear no woman alive ever felt safer.
“Well, I did. I went and found your Walter Scott and asked him to sign his novel, Waverley. I have kept it all these years, because I wanted to have something that I knew you wanted. I suppose I should have sent it to you.”
“You were always the woman, the person, the only thing in this world I need.” He rolled onto his stomach and looked down at her. “But I am grateful for the present, and that you had a book I love close to you. In a way, then, you had a part of me beside you.”
Blushing, she kissed him hungrily. “You were very pleasing at—at—at that act.”
Julian was clearly thrilled by the compliment.
“It was the first time I have ever done it. Of course, you would expect me to do all the necessary readings.” Romola felt a sweep of affection and gratefulness for his need to be informed.
“I was always a firm believer in studying and knowing everything I possibly could about a subject. Therefore, if there was a book on the matter, I had to read it.”
“But you stayed loyal to the memory of me?”
“It was only ever you I wanted. Taking another woman wouldn’t have been fair to any of us.”
Romola nodded. She felt the same way. Being with another person would have made a lie of the bond they shared. How could someone else share the passion the two of them did? It would have tarnished the act.
“I received your letters,” Julian said. “I kept them safe. I think I might even have them memorized. I tried to write back to you, but I found that my letters were destroyed by my tutors on my mother’s orders. By that time, it was too late. I will forever regret the time we spent apart.”
Rolling on top of him, Romola enjoyed the feel of Julian beneath her. The leashed strength of him was within her power, and the sheer beauty of the man below her overwhelmed her. “Let us not waste any more time on regret. We should simply make the most of the time we have now.”
Their lips met, passion sparking between them as they rolled together, finding out how each part of their bodies felt against the other’s.
A faint knock sounded at the door. “Romola,” came Millie’s voice from far away, “Hugo says we are all due at the church in twenty minutes.”
“Do you think we should be late?” Romola whispered in Julian’s ear, and was grateful when he kissed her in agreement, and they pulled the bedsheets back on top of them again.
The End