Chapter 18
Before Verity even opened her eyes the next morning, she knew something had changed.
That her world was… different, somehow, today than it had been yesterday.
But why?
Then she opened her eyes, and they fell not on the sheet or the pillow next to her, but on a man.
A half-naked, far-too-attractive-for-his-own-good man.
His dark hair fell over his face, his chest practically glistening in the morning sunlight filtering into the room through her still-open curtains and windows, and that very well-defined chest rose and fell in his peaceful repose.
She couldn’t even think about what lay under the sheet, or she would start sweating all over again.
Then she heard movement in the hall beyond her door, and she panicked.
“Julian!” She started shaking his shoulder desperately. “Julian, wake up!”
His eyes opened far more slowly than the urgency required before he looked around him in confusion, taking in the rose wallpaper and the ornate pieces of furniture around the room.
Verity liked her space neat and tidy, so the reminders of last night—dirt on the floor from his boots, curtains blowing in the breeze from the open window—stood out in stark contrast.
Finally, Julian’s eyes fell on her, and she expected him to jump out of bed.
Which was why she was more than surprised when he wrapped his hand around the back of her head, pulled her in toward him, and placed a long, hard kiss on her lips.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said with a lazy smile.
“Good morning, Julian,” she said, not immune to his charm, no matter the circumstances, “but you need to leave. And you need to leave now. The servants are about, and if you are caught in here—”
His eyes darkened. “Then you would be ruined, and we would be forced to marry.”
“Yes.”
“Can’t have that,” he said, but his tone sounded forced, which she didn’t understand, for he had always been so adamant that he never be caught in a compromising situation.
“You’ll have to go out the window somehow,” she said, biting her lip. “I’m not sure how you could sneak through the house.”
He stood, fastened his trousers, and began dressing. As concerned as she was, Verity couldn’t help watching him, his every movement reminding her of last night and making her want him all over again.
“I could find my way,” he said, stepping toward the window and looking out. “There’s a gardener out there.”
“What?”
She stood, realizing she was only in her thin nightgown, coming to stand next to him. The heat of his body beside her was making her tremble, and she wondered if this…encounter was a one-time thing or if there was any chance of it happening again.
Her cheeks flushed as she recalled what it had felt like to have his fingers on her, in her, then to do the same to him—
She looked up to find him staring down at her, a grin on his face.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You’re thinking about last night, aren’t you?”
“No!”
“You are,” he said confidently, reaching out and placing his hands on top of her hips. “Nothing to be ashamed of, luv, for I am too.”
He leaned down and caught her lips in another kiss, this one not light or teasing but forceful, almost… claiming.
But that didn’t make sense. This was Julian. He insisted he had no desire for anyone to belong to him or he to them.
Suddenly, Verity realized just how bad an idea this likely was, for she wasn’t sure how she was possibly supposed to forget what had happened between them nor to avoid attaching any feelings to it.
But that was a problem for another time, she realized, as a knock sounded at the door, her lady’s maid calling her name from the other side.
“Quick, under the bed!” she said, and Julian’s eyebrows rose, but he sighed and crouched, sliding beneath just as her lady’s maid walked through the door.
“Lady Verity, you are up early,” she said, crossing the room to shut the window so that the curtains would stop billowing.
“I had trouble sleeping,” Verity said quickly.
Lily cast a look at the rumpled bed sheets, likely assuming that Verity had tossed and turned all night.
In a way, she had.
“Your mother would like to attend a musicale later this evening,” her maid told her. They had been together for some time, and Lily was understanding of Verity’s reluctance to attend such events.
"Where?” Verity asked warily.
“Lady Archer is hosting,” Lily said, and Verity could have sworn she heard a muffled curse from beneath the bed.
“Is she really?” Verity said, surprised.
Julian’s sister-in-law was not one to host many events, although Lady Archer—or Lady Mary as Verity had known her in their youth—had always done precisely what was expected of her, and hosting a society event now and again was certainly expected.
“Well, it shall be interesting, I suppose.”
“I am sure it will, my lady,” Lily said as she finished tidying the room and began searching through the wardrobe for a morning gown.
“Lily,” Verity said, stepping forward, unsure of how much longer Julian would remain under the bed without issue, “I’m a bit tired this morning. Could you please bring me tea before I dress?”
Lily looked surprised—Verity was a woman of routine, and this was not part of it—but she nodded.
“Certainly, my lady. I will return shortly.”
As soon as she shut the door behind her, Julian crawled out from under the bed, coughing before he let out a sneeze.
“Could use a clean under there,” he said, trying futilely to brush the dust off his clothing.
Verity rushed to the window, looking out to see that no one was about.
“The path is clear,” she said, only to see Julian shuffling from one foot to the other uneasily.
“I really am thinking I can find my way through the house.”
“Julian!” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “You will most certainly be seen at this hour.”
“Perhaps, but…”
Why did he look so uneasy? Did he truly not want to be discovered so badly? Then realization dawned.
“You’re scared of heights,” she said.
“Just slightly.”
“You did not consider that before you climbed up the tree?”
“That was different.”
“How so?”
“It was night, and I was looking up, not down.”
Verity rubbed her brow.
“I’ll help lower you down with the blankets. There is a lattice if you can make it a few feet to the right.”
He looked out the window before easing back in with a queasy expression.
“Very well, Verity,” he sighed. “I’ll do it. For you.”
“Quickly,” she said, and soon enough they had fashioned a rope out of the blanket, and he was inching his way out the window, looking as though he was about to be sick.
Verity was trying her very hardest not to laugh. It truthfully wasn’t that far. Even if he did fall—not that she wanted him to—he would be fine. Mostly.
When he finally reached the ground, he looked up, tipped his hat with a cocky grin as though it had all been of no issue, and began sauntering away as if he belonged there.
Verity could only shake her head. But when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, a large smile was stretched across her face.
One that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
* * *
Julian would have found every reason to avoid his sister-in-law’s musicale.
But one reason had convinced him to attend.
The fact that Verity would be here.
He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much.
Perhaps because he had found out from his mother that Lord Eastclere would be in attendance as well.
He didn’t like the thought of Verity and Eastclere in the same room, especially not now that Eastclere had announced his intentions to her father.
The music room, which Julian had not often visited as a child, was beautifully decorated with rose petals and other floral arrangements, the instruments awaiting in front of the seating.
Mary was an accomplished pianist, and he wondered if she would be playing tonight.
“Julian, good to see you,” his mother said, joining him in the doorway. “I am surprised but pleased that you chose to attend.”
“I would never miss such an event,” he said, laughing when his mother shot him a look. “Usually,” he amended.
“It is lovely to support Mary,” his mother said.
“Do you not mean Lady Archer?”
His mother bit her lip to keep from chuckling. She had always been entertained by Julian, even if she tried not to admit it.
“Lord Julian, thank you for attending,” Mary said, her hands crossed in front of her.
“Thank you for inviting me,” he said. “Tell me, who is the musical talent this evening?”
“I will be playing the piano, and a few other young ladies the other instruments,” she said. “Please, help yourself to refreshments and find a seat.”
“Very well,” he said, sharing an amused glance with his mother as he accepted tea and cake from one of the footmen.
It wasn’t long until he noticed Eastclere, Lady Seraphina, and her aunt enter, along with a few of the other guests.
He hoped that Verity would arrive soon.
She was driving him mad.
She was far from the first woman he had been with, and usually, he did far more than simply touch them.
But he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
The softness of her skin beneath his fingers.
The light in her eyes when they changed from blue to violet, especially when they had darkened in desire.
The eagerness she had displayed, even when she was nervous about what was to come.
It had been worth climbing up and down the tree and the lattice connected to her townhouse.
So much so that he wanted to do it again, against his better judgment.
Soon enough, he was rewarded for his patience when the woman who refused to leave his thoughts entered the room with her mother.
She looked beautiful tonight, but then, she always did, in her own subtle way.
She wore a long, flowing blue gown, more colorful than many of the others she often wore, especially during the day, he had noticed.
She still didn’t have all the eyes on her, unlike Lady Seraphina, but he knew that if any other gentlemen were like him, once they truly saw her, they wouldn’t be able to look away.
The night of the masquerade had proven that.
She caught his eye, but didn’t immediately make her way over, taking time to greet his mother, sister-in-law, and brother, who had also joined them.
Soon enough, Mary went to the front of the room, introduced the musicians, and asked everyone to find their seats.
Verity’s mother led her over to sit right next to Eastclere and Lady Seraphina.
Julian didn’t hesitate.
Fortunately, Verity’s mother was next to Eastclere, and before she could change places with Verity, he walked over and sat right beside the woman who had so recently yet completely captivated him.
“Good afternoon, Lady Camden, Lady Verity,” he said, with a special smile for Verity, one designed to remind her that it wasn’t so very long ago that they were much more familiar with one another than anyone would ever guess. “How are you this afternoon?”
“All is well, Lord Julian, thank you,” Lady Camden said before turning and speaking to Lord Eastclere again.
Julian kept holding Lady Verity’s gaze.
“It’s good to see you,” he said in a low voice.
“It has not been that long,” she murmured.
“Long enough,” he said, and her eyes widened in surprise. He understood why. He had agreed to teach her, but he had always been very clear that there were to be no connections or understandings between them.
A rule that appeared less sensible with each passing day.
For he couldn’t get Lady Verity out of his mind. And as he sat here with her, he wanted nothing more than to be even closer to her once again.
It was a problem, all right.
One that he had no idea what to do about.