Chapter Eighteen #3
“I love you.”
And all her concerns melted away. “You do?”
Lawrence nodded, his handsome face twisting in an awkward smile. “I may not have always shown it, but God, Jules, you are everything to me. Every moment since I met you has been an exercise in attempting to know you better.”
Julia’s heart leapt. “You have rather succeeded.”
“Not enough,” he said. “I should have known, in Grapes Alley, that your sense of justice would not cease unless you knew why I…”
His voice trailed away as guilt swept through Julia’s chest. She should never have doubted him. It seemed so clear, away from that dark place, standing in this place of opulence.
“I should not have pushed you,” she said gently. “I—”
“He killed my brother, you see.”
Julia’s jaw fell open.
Oh, dear God. It was worse than she could ever have imagined.
Lawrence nodded ruefully. “I couldn’t tell you because…well, because Mortimer had done more than murder. He is being held now for treason, actually—”
Julia’s mind struggled to keep up with these revelations, coming swift and fast. Murder? Treason?!
“—and so I did not know whether I could…well,” said Lawrence, hands outstretched apologetically. “Spill state secrets. There it is. I am sorry.”
“No—no, it is I who am sorry!” Julia blurted. “I should not have pushed you. I should have known there would be a reason…”
Oh, how could she have been so blind?
“I had hoped if I could explain this to you even in part, you would…well,” Lawrence said awkwardly. “Still wish to marry me.”
And the world made sense once again. Julia grinned, unable to restrain herself as she stepped forward and kissed Lawrence hard on the mouth.
It was becoming rapidly clear, as Lawrence’s arms encircled her, his hands on her buttocks and heat blossoming between them as they each claimed pleasure after pleasure, that if they did not leave whoever’s house this was soon, Lawrence was going to take her right here, right now, on this marble floor.
Julia pulled away, taking a step back to prevent herself from succumbing to such a temptation. “So you’ll still marry me?”
“Try and stop me,” Lawrence growled, hunger on his lips, though for some reason, he hesitated. “At least…there is just one problem.”
“That you’re likely to be arrested for breaking and entering?” she quipped with a grin.
Lawrence pushed his hair back with a wry grin. “Rather difficult to be arrested for kissing one’s betrothed in one’s own home.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. In one’s own home?
Then Julia’s mouth fell open as astonishment rocked her. “One’s own…Lawrence. Do not tell me you own this place.”
“Fine, I won’t tell you,” he said with a laugh. “But it’s true.”
“True?”
This was some sort of jest, surely, Julia thought wildly—but a strange sort of jest. If he owned a place like this…
“Lawrence,” Julia said slowly. “You said once we were from very different classes—no, different ranks, you said. Ranks.”
And as she looked at him, the easy way he stood there, the regal elegance of his features, the complete nonchalance of the man…
“You’re rich,” she breathed.
“Not quite.”
“Oh.”
“I’m fabulously rich,” Lawrence said with a laugh. “And a duke, too, now I come to think about it.”
Julia’s legs started to quiver. “A duke?”
“I hope that won’t be a problem,” he said, seriously.
It was a good thing she was not too far from the stairs. Julia managed to drop onto the third step. She looked up at the man—the gentleman, she corrected herself with a thumping heart—who had secured her affections when she had believed him naught but a boxer.
A duke…
“I had thought you’d guessed,” said Lawrence quietly, slipping down beside her on the stairs. “At your dinner.”
Julia laughed dryly. “You would have thought so, but apparently not!”
Her mind was whirling, trying to take it all in. A duke! But then, he was so elegant in his speech, so refined. He knew about the oyster fork!
And all this time, he had been living in those horrid digs and punching men in the boxing ring?
“I was undercover,” Lawrence said softly, as though able to read her thoughts. One of his arms slipped around her shoulders, while his other hand took one of hers. “I had to be, to catch the blaggard—sorry, the man who killed my brother.”
“Undercover?” Julia repeated helplessly.
He nodded, his eyes serious now. “I did not want to deceive you, deception is not in my nature, but…oh, Jules. You loved me when you thought I had nothing, when I was nothing. Can you bear to marry me now, when I have so much to offer?”
There was a teasing look in his eyes, but Julia saw through the levity.
“It would be a great responsibility, I suppose,” she said slowly. “Becoming a duchess.”
Lawrence shrugged. “I suppose it will be. But there’s always an alternative.”
Julia breathed in deeply, but this did not aid her concentration. Not with Lawrence so close, the musk of his efforts in the alleyway invading her nose, obliterating all self-control. “There is?”
He leaned forward, slowly, his lips moving closer to hers. “We could always go undercover again…”