This path was narrower, and overhanging branches made it seem very dark. Low bushes caught at her gown, and she had to stop once to untangle a vine that had somehow wrapped itself about her ankle. A few minutes more of wandering this thickly overgrown and dimly lit path forced her to admit she had made a dreadful error. She was not going in the right direction at all. The music was becoming fainter and the lamps were so far apart, she was more often in darkness than in their pools of light.
She stopped, trying to still her ragged breathing, and heard a rustle as if someone was hurriedly pushing aside the closely growing bushes behind her. Forcing herself to turn and look, she bit her lip, stopping a cry of fear, for a large shadow moved through the greater darkness.
Twirling around, she quickened her steps, moving deeper and deeper into the gardens. Heat warmed her cheeks and her breasts pushed against the bodice of her gown, for her breath came in deep painful gasps. Fear of what could so easily occur if she met a man in this dark, out-of-the-way place spurred her on.
Suddenly in front of her, out of the darkness, loomed a ruined temple. Rescue! Slipping inside, she looked around for somewhere to hide herself, but all the ruin contained was a stone bench and piles of dead leaves scattered about the floor. The stone wall seeped cold into her heated flesh as she pressed herself up against it and held her breath. Had she been quick enough? Had her pursuer seen her enter? Even as these thoughts came to her, a tall figure stepped into the moonlit doorway. Juliana's heart plummeted and for the first time in her life, she knew real terror.
Carefully, she backed several steps before turning to edge deeper into the shadows. She closed her eyes, momentarily relying on her childhood belief that if she couldn't see, she couldn't be seen. A pair of strong male arms grasped her waist and she screamed, struggling and kicking desperately at her assailant.
"Juliana, you're all right now!"
Incredibly through her haze of fear she heard the vibrant voice of the Marquis of Aubrey. Finally realizing that the arms that held her were Dominic's, she sobbed with relief and twisted around to fall into his embrace.
"Oh, Dominic, I was so frightened. I thought … " Unable to say the words, her voice broke. "I don't know what I thought."
Dominic pulled her close, holding her lightly in the haven of his arms. The hammering of her heart began to quiet, but not to its normal pace. And as the fear subsided a more potent emotion filled its place.
Her cheek rested against the soft ruffles of his evening shirt and her hands were curled in fists near his shoulders. Relaxing her fingers until her palms were flat against the warm brocade of his jacket, she pushed herself slowly back until she could look into his eyes. She felt a tensing of his arms across her back.
The air thinned when she took it into her lungs, making her suddenly breathless. Her body felt weightless where it rested along the length of his; weightless yet tingling with sensations. The caress of his jacket beneath her hands, the softness of his shirt pressing her breasts, the hard length of his thighs against hers: there in the dark she experienced touch in a way she had never done before. No, that was not true, she had felt this way once before: in Mrs. Forbes's garden filled with the echo of Romany music. It was like music: this feeling racing through her blood. She had longed to feel this again-with Dominic.
She remained absolutely still when Dominic raised his hands lightly onto her shoulders. "Don't be frightened, Juliana." It was the voice he had used in the garden, full of longing and desire. "Beautiful Juliana."
Coaxing her closer into his embrace with light urgings of his hands, his lips touched her forehead, her eyelids, the curve of her cheek, leaving a scorching trail on her moist, warm skin before, at last, he brought his mouth down upon hers. Cool and dry, he brushed his lips back and forth slowly until with a moan he covered her open mouth. Out of the darkness and the fear such an aching need filled her that she sobbed aloud.
They melded together. Each finely muscular inch of his body imprinted against her softness, and she felt how much he desired her. Strangely it did not frighten her, instead she felt exhilaration that he should want her so.
Their lips met again in a clinging kiss, deep and passionate, and she was embracing him tightly, as if she couldn't get close enough.
Whispering her name, his face buried at the side of her neck where her curls lay tangled, his deft fingers loosened the straps of her gown until her breasts were half exposed in the dim light. A thrill shook her as his mouth followed.
"You're so perfect," he breathed against her softness.
It was as if in this time and place there were no rules, no promises made, but only the discovery and joy that with this man she could feel as she had never felt before. She wanted it to go on and on.
The crackling of dead leaves crushed under foot, warned her an instant before a man coughed. "Ah, here you are, Juliana. Lady Grenville noticed your absence and sent me to find you."
Juliana tore herself out of Dominic's arms and spun around to find Jules lounging against the stone entrance to the temple.
Dominic caught her wrist in a painful grip and pushed her behind him. From somewhere, Juliana's senses returned, consuming her with shame.
The faint moonlight filtering into the ruin cast a pale aura about each man, causing Dominic's eyes to sparkle like sapphires and Jule's to glow with dark embers. The waves of anger from these two brothers pierced through her own deluge of shame and confusion.
"Don't make this more of a farce than it already is, Jules." Dominic's ragged voice was cold and flat, removing the last vestige of softness around Juliana's heart. "What is this game you are playing?"
Jules shrugged, his thin lips curving. "It is not I who am playing … games, dear brother. I have simply come to chaperon the lovely Juliana back to the box before you are both in the suds."
His words stung her, but Juliana drew herself up with pride and stepped around Dominic to confront his brother.
"Thank you, Comte. It was foolish of me to slip away from the supper box for a stroll. I am only relieved it was you and the marquis who rescued me," she continued, determined to diffuse the embarrassing moment. Now, if Jules would only cooperate.
Laughing softly, Jules reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "It is my pleasure. Now, we return to the box and inform the others that Dominic took you on a short tour of the gardens. A bit rude not to include Charlotte, but he'll be forgiven. I will say I found you and joined in the stroll. Do you agree, Dominic?"
Relieved, Juliana tilted her head to gaze back at Dominic. He had remained perfectly still, his hands in tight fists at his side. He did not look at her, instead his eyes concentrated on his brother. To her dismay his face became the one of her nightmares.
"Mon frère, this time you are right," he mocked quietly.
Lady Grenville's fan snapped shut. Sophia and Rodney, lost in a private conversation of eyes, had stopped paying attention to her monologue some twenty minutes before when Jules had excused himself to greet acquaintances. Charlotte, forced to listen to her mother's diatribe against Juliana, had retreated to that private place in her mind she reserved for just these occasions.
"Charlotte, let this be a lesson to you." Lady Grenville's fan tapped the table, punctuating every word. "I knew we shouldn't have invited that woman. She's always doing something to draw attention to herself. Now it appears both Dominic and Jules have gone after her, and you are left here without an escort."
Without waiting for an answer, she swung around to a figure sitting well back in the shadows of the box. "Well, Sir Alfred? What have you to say to this?"
Whatever reply might have issued from this corner was effectively cut off by Charlotte.
"Mama. Here they are now. And Juliana … seems fine."
Lady Grenville's eyes narrowed with displeasure when Juliana approached. Jules had her hand tucked carefully in the crook of his arm and was animatedly describing the pigeons in Venice's St. Mark's Square. Very little of Juliana's composure had returned, but she was struggling to appear as natural as possible. Dominic, as always contemptuous of appearances, paced beside them, anger evident in every muscle.
"Ah, Lady Grenville. Such a lovely outing. Juliana has been delighting me with her observations on the crowd."