Chapter Two #2
“Sorry. Did I distract you?” she said brightly, hoping to goodness he would continue to look at her.
Far more tantalizing this close.
He blinked, then suddenly seemed to realize where he was. He launched himself upward, trying to stand, but collapsed into her arms the moment he became vertical.
“Steady, man,” Julia said, lowering him slowly into her lap and trying not to think how wonderful those firm fingers felt on her arms. “You’ve had a terrible fall.”
The man blinked. “I—I…who are you?”
“She’s trouble, that’s what she is,” said a rueful voice.
Julia glared at her brother, standing just outside the ring. “I don’t need your nonsense, Donald!”
“Julia, we need to go,” he said urgently, widening his eyes as he emphasized his point. “Now!”
But Julia couldn’t leave him. The man on the ground was still nestled in her arms, leaning against her as though she could protect him from the world. A strange sort of protectiveness overwhelmed her heart.
She wouldn’t leave…what was his name?
“What’s your name, sir?” she asked urgently.
The man hesitated. Goodness, Julia thought wildly, he must have been hit hard, if he is having to consider that!
“Lawrence,” he said quietly. “Lawrence Madgwick.”
Delight rushed through Julia, a delight she knew was most rebellious, but she could not help it.
She was in a boxing ring, clutching a man to her chest who evidently was of working class stock, and she was on first name terms with him. First names!
“I’m Julia,” she said firmly. “And—”
“Julia!”
“Go away, Donald,” Julia said happily.
The man could have been anyone, yet it was him. Lawrence. A sense that her whole life had been roaring toward this point was settling in her soul, and Julia could not shake it off.
“Julia?” Lawrence repeated.
And only then did he seem to realize where he was—more precisely, that he was clasped to Julia’s—
“Thank you, I am sure,” he said stiffly, pulling himself out of her grasp. “But I really can—”
“You can’t,” said Julia hurriedly, standing up and wondering why on earth her breath was so tight in her lungs. “You have had a great knock, you simply cannot return—”
“I am quite well, I assure you,” Lawrence said with a brief smile. “Thank you.”
Julia stood, gown covered in wood shavings from the boxing ring floor, her hands somehow bereft now she was no longer holding onto him, a dizziness in her head she could barely control.
She wanted to be near to him.
The thought rushed through her mind, slipping past her defenses and burrowing its way into her heart, and she could not pull it out.
Because though there was absolutely no reason why she should feel this way, Julia knew she had to be with him. Knew stepping away from Lawrence Madge, or whatever his name was, would be a mistake.
The greater mistake, she tried to tell herself, was staying here. She may not have a fancy title, but she was an elegant member of Society, whereas this Lawrence was evidently nothing of the sort.
Perhaps that was why he intrigued her so much.
“I thank you, Mrs….” Lawrence raised an eyebrow.
Julia’s heart skipped a beat. He was devastatingly handsome, so much so she hardly noticed the error. “Dryden.”
“I thank you, Mrs. Dryden, for your kind attentions,” he continued in a stiff voice. “You can go now.”
“Thank heavens, some common sense,” came Donald’s words. “Julia, we need to—”
“You go on home, Donald, I’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow,” Julia found herself saying. “Go on. I’ll be perfectly safe.”
She had not taken her eyes from Lawrence. How could she? Every moment in his presence was something precious, though she could not for the life of her understand why.
Pulling her pelisse closer, Julia barely registered her brother’s muttered oaths as he left her alone with Lawrence.
He was looking at her most peculiarly, and Julia had to admit, it was pleasant to be looked at by such a man. “Your husband is right. You should leave with him.”
Julia laughed, her merriment echoing now around the empty hall. “Hus—oh, you mean Donald.”
Lawrence nodded, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “You are fortunate, Mrs. Dryden, that—”
“Oh, he’s not my husband,” Julia said as airily as she could manage.
If only her heart was not pounding so painfully. She could never have imagined she would find herself in such a precarious position, but here she was.
Alone. At night. In the dark. With a handsome man who was evidently of no respectable family but had the looks of a devil about him. A charming one.
Something shivered up her spine.
“Oh.” Lawrence smiled. “Oh. Good. I mean—”
“But I suppose you will wish to return to your wife,” Julia said, realization suddenly dawning.
Because it would be too splendid, wouldn’t it, for such a man as Lawrence to be unmarried. One only had to look at him to know the ladies would fawn over such a man.
She would be. She was.
Oh, drat, she was entirely losing her composure!
“I am, sadly, unmarried,” said Lawrence quietly.
Julia could not help a flush tinging her cheeks. Was he laughing at her? A part of her did not care if he was. A man like that could laugh at her all day long, if only she could be near him.
What had got into her? No such thoughts had ever touched her heart like this before. But then, Julia had never met a man like him. Broad and overwhelmingly handsome, and looking at her now in a way she rather liked, yet knew at the same time he certainly should not be.
Curiosity curled around her heart. “Have you boxed for long?”
“I really shouldn’t be talking to you,” said Lawrence stiffly. “Not without a chaperone.”
Julia’s cheeks darkened. “I would not have thought a man like you would have cared about such things.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she regretted them immediately.
Lawrence’s brow darkened. “A man like me?”
“I just meant—”
“A common man, a working class man, a man who earns his bread with his hands, is that it?” he said angrily.
Julia bit her lip. That was what she had meant, but not in the vicious way he intoned.
“I…I have never met anyone like you,” she breathed.
The floor seemed to be moving, for the world was spinning and the only thing staying still was Lawrence.
He had stepped closer, closing the gap. Julia breathed in his scent of musk and power and passion.
“I’ll put you in a carriage,” Lawrence said darkly. “And you’ll never see me again, you hear?”
Julia jutted out her chin as the uncouth man grabbed her elbow and started pulling her to the door. She did not resist him—she really should be getting home, in all honesty, for if her mother was to discover she was missing from her bed…
But she was not about to take such directions lying down.
“I’ll get in a carriage and go home,” she said boldly, hardly knowing where the bravery came from for such a sentence, “but you’ll be seeing me again.”