The Heart of a Duke(18)

TWO kisses. Two mistakes. Julia paced a well-worn path in the Aubusson carpet of her room. She did not know what had come over her. Actually, she did, and it was not a what but rather a who.

The man was bold and reckless. He was as dangerous as the kiss they had shared, or rather kisses. But there would be no more. One couldn’t continue kissing one’s fiancé’s twin brother. It just was not done.

She rubbed a hand against her throbbing temple. Of course, kissing a man who was not your intended was not done. It was scandalous. Should word of it reach Edmund, she dared not contemplate what other foreboding adjectives could be added to that list. When disastrous sprang to mind, she dropped into the chair before her vanity, propped her elbows on its glass surface, and cradled her head in her hands.

She used to be a responsible woman. She was never ridiculous, nor did she drag gentlemen into alleys to take them to task. And she certainly did not exchange kisses with any men—her fiancé included.

And why was that?

At the betraying thought, she lifted her head and met her startled reflection in the mirror. Guilt pricked at her, but she refused to back down, for they were fair questions. Why wasn’t Edmund trying to kiss her senseless in empty alleys? Or on secluded paths? Or anywhere? Why wasn’t he buying her flowers at the fair? His brother was having no trouble doing so—and doing a very fine job of it, too. She bit her lip, but she was not so cowardly as to deny it in the privacy of her own bedroom.

Daniel had only spoken the truth. Their kiss had been powerful. But what he did not know, could never know, was how deeply it had touched her. It had dug into yearnings she had buried in the deepest corner of her heart. Uncovered tugging aches to feel wanted . . . desired . . . beautiful. To be seen as more than the dutiful daughter, the doting sister, or the mortar that kept her family from crumbling in their grief.

Since her eighteenth birthday, when these stirrings had simmered, she had hoped Edmund would satisfy them once they became betrothed. When Edmund had failed to do so, and Daniel had answered her needs with one scorching kiss, she had responded.

How could she not when he gave her all she had craved for so very long?

She could never forgive him. Not for kissing her, but for not being his brother.

Her vision blurred and she sprang to her feet, renewing her pacing. Her loyalty belonged to Edmund. She was duty bound, and being the daughter of an earl, she was raised to honor her duty. As a duke, so was Edmund. And as such, Edmund was preoccupied with far more lofty matters than dallying with his fiancée, alleviating her doubts, or kissing her senseless. He had numerous estates, thousands of acres, and hundreds of tenants dependent upon him.

More importantly, Edmund needed her. Daniel had not been there to support Edmund when he had gained his title and the weight of its responsibilities, but she would be. She knew about holding a family together and running an estate. Daniel might have stoked long-buried feelings, but there was no reason to believe she wouldn’t respond similarly to overtures from Edmund.

Her heart lightened, and she tapped her brush against her palm as she pondered how to proceed.

There could be no more transgressions with Daniel. She was not too concerned over the matter, for he would soon return to America, and the vast breadth of the Atlantic Ocean created a formidable barrier between them. Until then, she would erect her own defenses and do so quickly, for at her father’s invitation, Lord Bryant was due to join them for supper that evening.

Daniel trespassed on her grounds now, and he wouldn’t dare behave with impropriety before her father.

Or would he?

For goodness’ sake, Lord Bryant was to be her future brother-in-law. As such, she would treat him with courtesy and respect. In return, she expected him to treat her with equal civility.

To bolster her confidence, she would wear her high-waisted Empire gown, the sapphire blue one that highlighted her eyes. Belgian lace circled the puffed sleeves and the daring décolletage, while an embroidery of scattered leaves lined its hem. Emily had said it set off her figure beautifully. She usually dismissed her sister’s compliments, but tonight she hoped she spoke true. She needed to be firm in her resolution and not falter when Lord Bryant’s eyes dipped to her mouth . . . or hers to his.



FOR THE TEMPERATE September evening, the French doors to the upstairs drawing room had been thrown open to allow a breeze to whistle inside. Distant cries lured Julia onto the balcony. She crossed to the balustrade, her gaze drifting over the stretch of pristine back lawns, her brother’s squeals piercing the air.

Her lips parted at the sight meeting her. Jonathan dangled precariously over Daniel’s shoulders, his legs kicking, his fists pounding Daniel’s back. His protests were interspersed with high-pitched yelps of delight as Daniel dipped and twirled the wildcat he carried like a sack of seed over his shoulder.