A Disgraceful Miss

Elaine Golden

Julian Kenneway, Earl of Vinedale, has a secret: he is in love with innocent debutante Angelica Fortney. She’s the one thing he desires more than the tenuous peace he has regained since returning from India. Yet everyone, including Julian, believes he’s unsuitable for her—and seducing her could ruin both their lives.

But when a rival for Angelica’s affections arrives, Julian realizes he can’t lose her—and can no longer control his passion for her….

Book two of the Fortney Follies series.

When I originally sat down to write AN IMPRUDENT LADY, it was with the intent of writing a single story. But as I wrote Charlotte and Daniel’s tale, I got to know several key secondary characters and realized that they had a very compelling story to tell, too.

So, when my editor asked me to send more Undones, I went straight to the Fortney family where Angelica and Vinedale were practically begging me to tell their story. Sometimes proximity can breed familiarity…and love.

It is with great delight that I am able to share with you this new Undone short story, A DISGRACEFUL MISS, the second in the Fortney Follies series. It’s the story of Angelica and Vinedale, the daughter and best friend of our former hero, Daniel. Angelica struggles to find her place in the world, since everything she’s known about family has disintegrated around her, and Vinedale struggles against his overpowering feelings for his best friend’s daughter.

I hope that you enjoy their story and I would love to hear from you! Visit my website at www.elainegolden.com or email me at elainegolden.author@gmail.com.

Happy Reading!

To Rodney, my inspiration and my muse. You’ve still got it, babe.

To Tamara and Jessica for the insightful critiques and encouragement.

And, to Linda for wanting the rest of the family story. And making it a series.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ONE

“That girl will be the death of me, Vine.”

Julian Kenneway, the Earl of Vinedale, was leaning over his favorite billiards table at White’s, when Daniel Walsh made this declaration. Julian paused in assessing his next shot and glanced toward his friend.

Ten years Julian’s senior, Daniel wasn’t one for getting upset about much of anything. But now that Daniel was reunited with his beloved Charlotte, Julian wouldn’t sign any vowels betting on it. In fact, Julian couldn’t resist the opportunity to goad Daniel. Just a little.

“Your new wife already curtailing your leisure activities?” Julian asked. The scathing look he received nearly caused him to lose the serious expression he was trying to hold.

“I won’t dignify that remark with a response,” said Daniel. “It’s Angelica, not my wife. How’s a man supposed to maintain his sanity with a beauty like that on his hands? She’s catching the eye of every buck in town, and I want to throttle them just for drooling on her glove.”

Careful not to respond, Julian returned his attention to the table, took aim and released. The ivory cue ball hurtled across the felt toward its target, which sunk in the netted pocket with authority. A moment later, the cue ball followed with a dull clack. Disgusted, he yielded the table and stepped away.

“What, ho!” crowed Daniel as he eyed the slate field with a gleam in his eye. “That’s not your usual shot. Don’t believe I’ve ever seen you sink the cue like that before.”

Julian ignored him, his thoughts forestalled on Daniel’s earlier remark. “So don’t let them drool on her,” he said, the words tumbling out against his will.

“As if t’were that easy, Vine. Charlotte won’t let me interfere. Says it’s perfectly natural for a girl Angelica’s age to encourage the beaus.” Daniel rolled his eyes. “As if that should make me feel less put-upon.”

Left to hover between them, thick and silent as soot-laden fog, was the knowledge that Daniel didn’t have the right to interfere with Angelica. Insofar as the world was concerned, Daniel was Angelica’s brother-in-law; in reality, he was her sire. Just the prior year, Daniel had returned to England for the first time in nearly two decades and reunited with his childhood sweetheart, Charlotte Fortney. And had discovered Angelica was their child.

Daniel wasn’t even her guardian, so he couldn’t offer her more than the simple protection of a brother-by-marriage. He was relegated to the impotent role of escort-about-town.

“I swear, if I wasn’t there glaring a warning, they’d be drooling on her bosoms, as well—which, I’ve also noted to Charlotte, are too exposed. She claims the gowns are of a modest cut, but I remain unconvinced. Your turn.”

And lovely bosoms they were, too, Julian couldn’t help thinking. He admired them every chance he got, not that he would admit that to his friend. He rather liked his teeth where they were. Julian stepped toward the table, nonchalantly eyeing his next shot.

But… He frowned and paused, tightly gripping his cue stick. “Who’s been paying her undo attention?”

“Haversham, for one. I think he’s working up the nerve to approach Wainsborough.”

Julian froze. The Duke of Wainsborough, as the head of Angelica’s family, was her de facto guardian, which could mean only one thing. A marriage proposal was imminent.

Julian had known it was an eventuality—there was a reason they called the London season the Marriage Mart. But he’d considered it a distant concern. Had hoped it would be in the far distance.

Daniel laughed. “But little good it’ll do the man even if Wainsborough does give his consent.”

“How’s that?”

“According to Charlotte, the chit’s long since set her cap. Wouldn’t even consider Haversham’s proposal if he managed to choke it out coherently with seraphim standing as witness.”

Which was saying something. Haversham was a well-set marquess, which was sufficient to elicit the enthusiasm of every other husband-seeking hopeful in town.

“Who’s the lucky lad, then?” And why had Julian never heard this before? His heart hammered in his chest, dreadful and steady as a death knell.

“Lord Bradley Carston, apparently. Do you know him?”

“I know his family. Bradley’s a bit younger, so we didn’t attend university together. Second or third son, isn’t he?”

Was it getting hot in here? Julian tugged ineffectually at his high collar, mentally cursing the extra starch his valet used.

“Second son. Bradley’s been on the Grand Tour, so Angelica’s been biding her time till his return. Won’t take any of the other gentlemen seriously. For which I’m grateful, but my reprieve is nearly done. Rumor has it, Lord Bradley has returned.” Daniel sighed dramatically as he chalked his cue. “And, so, my demise is imminent.”

Julian’s heart plummeted.

God, if it were true, then Julian’s life was about to become a misery. Just the thought of Angelica attached to another man was enough to send him into paroxysms of malcontent. But to watch her dote upon one with affection?

Julian finally swung the cue stick, though this shot wasn’t much better than his last. When Daniel stepped up and quickly cleared the table of the remaining balls, he was relieved. He’d lost the desire to play, too distracted to concentrate further.

For, he had a secret. Something he couldn’t talk about with Daniel, the man he loved in place of the brother he’d never had and the father who had died just after his birth. Daniel had taught him how to eradicate the nightmares that haunted long after the vicious battles in India had been left behind. By the time Julian had deployed to Bombay with a fresh commission in the army, Daniel had been there long enough to be numbed by it all.

No, Julian couldn’t—wouldn’t—sacrifice the filial bond that they shared because he was weak.

Because he was in love with Angelica.

CHAPTER TWO

The new Burlington Arcade was alight with midday activity. Open for trade only a few weeks, the neat row of shops was already a favored haunt of the most dedicated fashionists. The finest jewelers, milliners, tailors and other vendors of stylish demand were showcased in regimented glass stalls, like so many fine bloodstock at a Tattersalls auction. The arcade was even more pleasing than a visit to Bond Street, for the glazed roof that spanned the wide pedestrian boulevard protected the patrons, allowing for a leisurely stroll despite inclement weather.

Since the day appeared incapable of producing anything but water in all of its various forms, the arcade had seemed the perfect place to search for a gift. Angelica hadn’t expected it to be quite so busy. The shopkeepers were juggling customers at least four deep, which meant a longer wait than she had the patience for.

Angelica waved her footman on and left another crowded shop. Perhaps she ought to try Bond Street after all. Surely they’d have something appropriate for Daniel—her father, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. She eyed the ceaseless drizzle of rain at the end of the arcade and hesitated. She was determined, but without a direction on what to purchase, she was more likely to get soaked through than she was to find a suitable gift elsewhere.

She moved to a tailor’s shop and studied the stacks of brightly colored cravats displayed within the bow window. It wasn’t exactly customary for an unmarried woman to be seen gaping into places where men’s unmentionables were fitted, but there you have it. Angelica had two older brothers—uncles, she reminded herself—that it would be assumed she was shopping for. It wasn’t as if she planned to actually enter the establishment.

Dismissing the cravats as both too boring and too easy, Angelica peeked beyond the display and into the depths of the shop, desperate for something better. She was almost tempted to pop her head in and ask the proprietor for a suggestion, when she spotted a familiar figure within.

It was neither the line of his jacket nor the dark curls that struck her as familiar. No, it was the distinctive tilt of his head, as if he were studying something particularly intriguing. The look that never failed to make her insides feel as if they had turned to hot rice pudding.

As a former soldier, Vinedale was generally as far from scholarly as a man could get, but he had a tendency to scrutinize even the smallest detail as if he might see straight to its essence. It was most disconcerting to be the subject of such study, and she wondered what had captured his attention.

When Vinedale waved his hand to summon the shopkeeper, she knew him for certain and, before she even realized what she was about, she rapped briskly on the glass pane to get his attention. He turned, and she felt the full impact of his quicksilver gaze.

She waved cheerfully as her stomach turned to pudding again. As it turned out, the queer sensation seemed to have less to do with a simple look and more to do with Vinedale’s presence in close proximity to her. He had a knack for leaving her…unsettled. As if her blood ran faster and her skin prickled in heightened awareness.

Vinedale smiled then made a gesture to indicate she should wait while he completed his business.

Since he was a close friend of Daniel, she had spent some considerable time around the earl herself. Nowadays, she was almost…eager to see him. Not that she ever thought about it or sought him out because of it. Much.

Angelica pulled up the cashmere shawl that Vinedale had given her this past Christmas. It was a lovely warm fabric, one she particularly enjoyed rubbing her cheek against when she had a quiet moment of reflection. And sometimes, if she were completely honest with herself, when she did think about Vinedale.

He was, of course, completely ill-suited for her. He had a good ten years more than her that he wore as if they were twenty. But that wasn’t unusual for men who had once served in the military. It was as if the brutality of each battle drained bits of their life and left an echo of the horror of war behind.

And perhaps it did. It seemed at times, with both Daniel and Vine, that when their guard was down, the remnants of pain and despair shone clearly in their eyes. Daniel wore his as if he’d earned it. Vine disguised his with humor.

Vinedale concluded his business and exited the small shop, a tiny bell chiming behind him. Her footman drifted away to lounge against a shop front.

“Good day, Lady Angelica,” he said as he sketched a bow. “Fancy meeting you here. What brings you to the arcade this fine day?”

“Just your sort of day, is it, Vinedale? You must be in ecstasies, because I don’t believe the sun has made an appearance in nearly a fortnight.”

His smile was the crooked one that always gave her a little thrill.

Wrong. So wrong, this feeling.

“Indeed it is. It’s just the sort of day to lie about and do nothing but indulge in things best not mentioned in public.”

She raised a brow. He was teasing her, as usual; the glint in his eye suggested something wicked. And her impulse was to rise to the challenge.

Brazenly, she ran her gaze down, then back up his figure in assessment, and his smile deepened. “You haven’t an ounce of sloth in you, Vine. Certainly your presence here belies your claim.”

Vinedale sighed dramatically. “You have found me out. Such things require sufficient distraction at hand,” he said. Then he straightened and his expression eased, as if he were caught at something he oughtn’t be doing and sought to distance himself from it. He shrugged. “As to what I’m about, I suspect it’s the same as you. Searching for a gift for Daniel.”

Of course he was. Charlotte would have invited him to dinner. Vine was always included in family gatherings in the Walsh household.

Why hadn’t she realized this sooner? Now she would worry over what to wear. Not that she was dressing to impress Vinedale, of course.

“Yes, indeed, and a poor time of it I’m having, too.” Angelica raised her gloved hands to illustrate how empty they were and her reticule swayed at her wrist. “He isn’t the easiest to choose for.”

Vine laughed. “What do you give a man who has it all?”

“Well, he does seem to have everything.”

“Now that Charlotte’s back in his life, I think he’d agree.”

“Have you any suggestions? I’m rather desperate.”

“Well,” he said, brow furrowed. “You might consider— Whoa, there, chap!” Vinedale lurched suddenly to the side. A laborer, struggling with long boards of timber, had lost control of his burden and knocked Vine in the ribs, dislodging his hat. Vine regained his feet and turned toward the fellow with a thunderous frown. “Why in the blazes aren’t you hauling that lot in the back lane? You could injure someone!”

“Oh, dear,” Angelica murmured, then bent to retrieve his hat. She brushed at the top, trying to remove the sooty smudge on the once immaculate felted-beaver.

As she stood, something slammed into her, causing her to stagger and drop Vine’s hat. By the time she realized it was a body, and a rather small one at that, the person was gone without so much as an apology, dashing toward the street.

A quick mental inventory assured her nothing was broken or likely even bruised, with the possible exception of her wrist. It stung. She rubbed at the joint, and then peeled back the top of her glove to take a closer look, only to feel her stomach sink.

“My reticule! It’s been stolen!” Angelica spun, looking for her errant footman to lend aid. Unfortunately, he had his hands full of the man who had accosted Vine.

When Vinedale dashed past, racing after the thief, her heart stumbled.

Certainly, she wanted her purse returned, but what if the ruffian had a knife? Vinedale might have once been an army officer, but he wasn’t one any longer.

Angelica turned to her footman. “Do something! You must go after them and help Lord Vinedale!”

“Apologies, my lady, but I’ll have to let loose this one,” he said as he struggled with the laborer amidst discarded wood planks, “to go after the other.”

No one seemed inclined to help; in fact, the other patrons hastened into one establishment or another, or pointedly avoided her gaze. Nor was there a constable about.

What if Vine were hurt, lying bleeding on the cobbles?

Her heart seized at the image. The coin she could replace, but there’d be no replacing Vinedale if something serious were to happen.

Without another thought, Angelica turned and hastened into the wet mist after him. She dashed down the street, ignoring the damp that seeped into her clothing, her hair. Even the sunlight was weak and watery. On instinct she raced down the street until she heard the sounds of a struggle.

She paused at an alleyway and peered down it, searching for the source of the noise, but the dim light made it difficult to be sure she’d found Vinedale. Since she wasn’t about to dash pell-mell into an unknown area that smelled suspiciously like mews—she might be rash but she wasn’t foolish—she hovered in indecision.

Then she heard him. Or rather a shout that sounded like Vinedale on the tails of a suspiciously meaty-sounding thud. Her heart leapt into her throat.

Had he been injured? Angelica hastened into the alleyway.

It was Vinedale, and he was alone. He leaned back against the filthy brickwork, hunched over and clutching his head.

“Vine!” she said as she raced to his side. “Are you all right?”

Vine’s gaze was blank, as if he were focused on some internal vision, then he blinked and it cleared. The one eye, anyway. The other was hidden beneath his hand. “Angelica? What are you doing here?” He pushed away from the wall.

“I’ve come to make certain you’re all right. What were you thinking to chase after that criminal? What if he’d been armed? You could have been killed!”

“I’m an ex-soldier. I don’t make it a habit to go about unprotected.” The knife in his free hand glinted menacingly, and he struggled to regain his breath. “Couldn’t very well let the thug steal your purse.” He flashed a crooked grin. “Can’t encourage them, you know. They’ll try to make off with all of the pretty girls’ reticules.”

Vine thought her pretty? It was the first time she could recall he’d ever given her a direct compliment. Her fingertips tingled in response.

“You caught him, then?”

He grimaced. “I’m afraid not. Damnable filcher nearly took out my eye with a stick. Slipped away before I could snag him.”

When he dropped his hand to show her the damage, Angelica thought for a moment she’d faint. She’d never seen someone’s face…quite like that before.

Two dark rivulets of blood marred the side of his face and dripped from a nasty wound at his eyebrow. The alley tipped in her vision and she felt cold from more than the damp weather. Vinedale’s strong grip on her upper arms held her upright, but she felt as limp as a piece of string.

“You don’t look well. Are you all right?” Vine shook her slightly, and her surroundings straightened.

“Yes,” Angelica whispered, then gained her voice. “I’m fine. But you’re not, Vine. Here!” She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and pressed the mass to the wound. “Hold still a moment. We need to stop the bleeding then get you to a physician. It looks terrible.”

He grunted but let her minister the wound. She held the makeshift bandage in place and scanned his features, checking for other damage. Which, thankfully, appeared to be none.

And then she realized that she’d never been quite so close to him before, and she stilled. His hair was ruffled, sticking out wildly, and his cravat was askew. Heat rolled from him, carrying his scent.

But his eyes… His eyes burned into her, simmering with emotion. No doubt it was from the fight, but something deeper, darker, shifted within their depths. Angelica bit her lip, worrying the flesh as her thoughts jumbled.

Vinedale followed the movement, staring at her mouth as if he couldn’t look away. As if he were a starved hound fixed on a plump hare.

Breathless, Angelica murmured something inconsequential then held her breath. Waiting and, perhaps, hoping. For a kiss? Surely not from Vine.

He leaned in and hesitated a breath away, as if expecting to be put off. Her pulse stuttered then his lips pressed to hers like a warm embrace.

Angelica held her breath, stunned. Uncertain.

She’d never been kissed, so she had nothing to compare it to, other than her imaginings and embarrassed, inquisitive peeks as Daniel stole a few from Charlotte. Was this all there was?

Then his mouth turned, shifted on hers, and the kiss changed. Intensified. Ensnared her and urged her to join him, to meld her breath with his. It was desire, pure and simple. The moist, delicious invitation to sinful delights that she had only read about in the novels she hid under her bed.

Vine’s kiss awakened in her something she hadn’t known existed, opened the door to possibilities she’d barely imagined. The buzz of awareness, the thrum of excitement she always felt around him was now magnified. Forever changed. Helpless to the temptation of his kiss.

Something like a mewl escaped her, a sound she’d never before made, but now it seemed all she was capable of in the onslaught. Vine growled in response and deepened the kiss, ravaging her lips, urging her to open, to meet the allure of his tongue. When she shyly swiped her tongue across the edge of his top lip, she was rewarded by a groan and his hands gripped her hips, pulling her into a rough embrace. Seeking more. Her insides melted like beeswax, as molten desire seeped through her veins.

She’d never felt like this before. Her blood pounded in her ears, and when he pulled back and stared, this time his eyes glowed like liquid silver, alight with passion. His lips glistened and his breathing was ragged. For a moment, she thought he’d kiss her again, then his head lifted like a stag catching a predator’s scent, and he pulled away just as a small group of men clattered into the alleyway.

Angelica was still holding her handkerchief to his brow. It slipped from her hand as he stepped aside, distancing himself.

The constable had arrived in search of a thief.

So, why did she have the urge to tell him to look to Vinedale, who had just stolen a piece of her heart?

CHAPTER THREE

Julian was furious. With himself.

He had given in and kissed her, something he should never have done. Ever. And not only because her father would kill him if he ever found out.

But because now he also couldn’t get the taste of her off his tongue. He’d even resorted to scalding coffee, but it hadn’t done a whit of good. Like the jasmine scent of her hair, it lingered in his memory to taunt him during the long, lonely night.

To make matters worse, he’d made the monumental mistake of touching her. Standing there in the alley, her dress damp and clinging to the curve of her breasts… Lord, he’d wanted to touch them, to roll the distended tips between his thumb and forefinger until he’d wrung a moan from her lips. He desperately wanted to know the sort of sounds she would make when loving a man. Still did.

Julian might have tried even more if he hadn’t been blinded by the pain at his temple and the ill-timed arrival of the constable and reinforcements.

There was no excuse for it, other than he’d been tormented with thoughts of her fawning over Lord Bradley Carston. The duo getting engaged, married. Having children.

As he’d stood there aching without and within, Angelica tending his wound and shivering in her thin gown, he’d been consumed by the need to taste her—just the once, so he’d have the memory of it.

Stupid, stupid man.

Now here he was trying desperately to pretend that none of it had happened and knowing it for the impossibility it was.

Angelica was not a woman to dally with, if he’d had only that in mind. She was raised to be a wife, and not one he was at liberty to choose. She was his closest friend’s daughter.

But how he wanted to. Angelica had become the one thing he desired more than the desperate peace he’d regained when he returned from India.

For so many years Julian had been alone. An orphan at seven, his distant cousin had sent him off to school rather than succor him. Eventually, Julian had turned to the military for camaraderie and purpose, and had found it for a time. Perhaps that’s why he and Daniel had become so close, despite the difference in age; they were each alone.

When Julian learned he’d inherited a peerage from that same uncaring cousin, he had got the notion to return to England and take up the responsibilities. Daniel sold his commission and trade office and together they had set out to build new lives.

Daniel had rediscovered his, with Charlotte and their daughter, Angelica. And, for a time, Julian had their joy as a new family as his own. It helped combat the loneliness, just a little. But it also illuminated the gap in his life. Julian wanted a family of his own—half a dozen children and a doting spouse.

Eventually, he’d select a wife, but he didn’t want a girl consumed with trivialities. The eligible ladies he’d met so far gave him a headache just from the time it took to complete a turn around the dance floor. He’d likely settle on a nice widow, but hadn’t found one yet to suit. Not that he’d been looking, either.

First, he needed to expunge this preoccupation with Angelica. She was more than a temptation; she was his ideal partner. Every woman he met was compared to Angelica…and found wanting.

Now it was worse, for he’d tasted her, and he was no longer certain that another woman would suffice. Angelica tasted so…right.

And what must she think of this—of him—now? She hadn’t appeared appalled by his actions—a small blessing—but neither could she have understood the impulse driving him. Should he offer her an apology or pretend the glorious kiss hadn’t happened?

He couldn’t imagine discussing matters calmly with her, when he’d be hard-pressed not to taste her all over again. It would be best, if not easiest, to keep his distance.

Julian sipped a brandy while the clock ticked, marking the time till he met Daniel on his rounds as escort to Angelica for the evening. He’d be able to keep up the pretense of indifference it would require. He hoped.

And that scared the hell out of him.

CHAPTER FOUR

“There you are!” Marie-Rose Delacourt said as she slid the last couple of steps to join Angelica. “I need to speak with you. Now,” she said in a tone pitched low so it wouldn’t carry in the large assembly room. With several hundred people chattering and the musicians tuning their instruments, there wasn’t much to be overheard, but Marie-Rose tended toward the melodramatic.

Angelica leaned in close. “What is it, then?”

“Yes, well—” Marie-Rose took a deep breath and then the words erupted like a geyser “—Lord Bradley’s back. He’s here. Tonight.”

Her Bradley?

It wasn’t shock precisely, nor yet the fierce patter of excitement that she had once felt at just the thought of Bradley Carston. Her fingertips went cold and her heart accelerated, yes. She had waited as he first went to university, then on the Grand Tour, and the moment now ripened with significance.

And, perhaps, a tiny twinge of guilt.

After all, she had pined for Bradley as long as she could remember, but recently she had dreamt about Julian Kenneway, the Earl of Vinedale. After the day before, how could she not?

After informing the constable of the circumstances, a thorough search of the area had yielded her empty reticule, but nothing further. With unseemly haste, Julian had deposited her into a carriage with vague assurances he’d see a physician. And then he was gone.

But one thing was incontrovertible. Julian had kissed her.

Not some civilized little peck, either, but a deep, blood-boiling exploration from which she still hadn’t cooled down. Angelica shivered, recalling the decadent feel of Julian’s lips on hers, his strong hands gripping her, the warmth of his body in that chilly alley. The fear and worry that had congealed with desire and left her weak, senseless.

She was worried about his injury, and she anxiously scanned the room again looking for him. Since Daniel had departed this morning to call upon Julian, she’d only received a brief note of reassurance. Angelica couldn’t stifle the urge to see him for herself.

“Are you all right, Angelica?” Marie-Rose chafed her hands. “Don’t faint. Don’t you dare. Oh, I knew you still had affections for Bradley.”

Angelica looked at Marie-Rose blankly. What in the world was she talking about?

“Well, fend off the swoons as long as you can,” said Marie-Rose with uncharacteristic solemnity. “There he is.”

Excitement bubbled in Angelica’s chest as she peered toward the threshold where Bradley had entered with his brothers, a veritable pride of masculinity. Bradley stood to the side, scanning the room. His brown hair curled at his collar and, with skin tinted from a foreign sun, he stood out from his brothers like some burnished, pagan god. Angelica wasn’t the only female gazing in rapt attention.

Would he remember her? Would he find her appealing now that she was grown?

“Do you think he’ll seek you out?”

Just as Angelica started to respond, something palpable shifted in the atmosphere and her pulse accelerated. Without turning, Angelica knew what it was.

Julian.

She found him across the room with her father, looking a little bored but putting a good face on things. Her heart squeezed in painful excitement at the sight of him. Since he didn’t keep his hair long, the fresh, jagged wound stood out like an angry, garnet-hued banner.

How utterly strange, to feel so very aware of both men. Torn between them.

When Daniel leaned over and whispered something, Julian’s entire demeanor changed and he went as rigid as a pointer, narrowed eyes affixed on Bradley.

Tension radiated across the room and Angelica felt the urge to soothe him. To walk right over and lay her hand upon his and offer Julian ease. The strength of the impulse startled her and she looked away.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Bradley Carston said, suddenly before her as if conjured by a genie. Despite the time he’d been abroad, she recognized that rich tone. It still made her a little giddy.

“Lord Bradley! A pleasure to see you again. Arrived safe from your journeys, I see,” Angelica said with as much cheer as she could muster in her confusion.

Bradley frowned slightly, his pale blue eyes glinting in the candlelight. “Lord Bradley? Why so formal, Angelica? I’ve known you since you were in swaddling clothes.”

He meant it in jest, but Angelica couldn’t suppress her ire. Did he still see her as an infant? Is that how Julian saw her?

“It’s a formal event and I suppose I’m practicing my civilities.” She extended her hand to further the illusion. “What do you think? Have I passed muster?”

Bradley smiled. “Let’s see. It’s been rather long since I’ve seen you.” Gripping her hand, he tugged it to the side as if to get a better look. His eyes skimmed her length.

Was he flirting? How very odd that felt. Angelica glanced toward Julian, but found the place he’d occupied now vacant.

“Lady Angelica, you have grown lovelier, though it seems impossible.” Bradley’s eyes twinkled, though from amusement or interest she could not discern.

“Fie on you, sir. Clearly, you’ve been too busy to notice. Rumor has it you returned to our fair shores some few weeks ago, but you haven’t hung your knocker nor left a single calling card.”

“Well, I’ve had a few obligations to see to back at Finlay. I’ve only just returned to London.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“In due time, sweet,” he said then he actually chucked her under the chin as one would a child. “You’ll be the first to know. How about a dance, instead?” The musicians were cuing the next tune, a popular country dance, and couples were making their way toward the dance floor.

“Oh, no, you don’t, pup,” Julian commanded, and Angelica jumped guiltily. Where had he come from?

Julian insinuated himself into their circle and frowned, while Marie-Rose watched the proceedings with the avid eye of a hungry hawk.

“I’ve already claimed this set,” Julian continued. “Find another young lady to partner.”

Bradley looked between Julian and Angelica as if searching for some connection. “Have you a dance open later, Angelica?”

“Well…” She fumbled for her dance card as the tension grew.

“Not on my time, you don’t. Move along,” Julian growled, the ragged gash at his temple lending him a menacing air, and then he swept her along with him toward the dance floor.

“You behaved abominably. On purpose,” Angelica said as the music began. She curtsied and passed Julian, following the intricate steps of the dance.

“Of course,” he said without a sign of remorse.

“Why would you do that?”

“He’s the one you want, isn’t he? The reason you’ve put off one suitor after another?”

Angelica nearly stumbled. How had he known?

“Is he the one you want, Angelica?” Julian’s eyes flashed an icy warning, and his voice dropped, carrying only to her ears. His arm brushed her as they passed, and she shivered. Julian looked unperturbed, and she wondered how that was possible when it was all she could do to maintain propriety.

“What if he is?” she said, watching Julian closely and unsure how to answer. “Do you care?”

He led her into a spin, squeezing her hand a little too tightly, but he didn’t utter another word as the music ended and she carefully curtsied. Uncertainty filled her.

For a long moment she stood self-consciously at the edge of the dance floor as other couples swept by in search of their next partners, Julian studying her as if she were a curious scientific specimen. Then, still silent, he offered her his arm.

When she placed her hand on his sleeve, he capped it with his own, then he leaned to the side and whispered, “I cannot afford to.”

As Angelica tried to sort out precisely what that meant, Julian tensed and glared over her shoulder. A quick glance revealed Bradley headed toward them, his jaw set in determination.

“But I’ll be damned if I’ll leave you to the likes of him,” Julian muttered just before he pivoted and led her in the opposite direction by the simple expedient of retaining her trapped hand.

CHAPTER FIVE

The assembly room gardens offered quiet, darkened spots for Julian to sequester Angelica while he knuckled down on his rampant emotions.

God, it was bad enough that his libido launched into full speed whenever he was near Angelica, but add to that—dare he admit it even to himself?—the jealousy of seeing that young buck posturing for her, and Julian was ready to explode. In violence or violent lust, he wasn’t entirely certain.

As he’d hustled Angelica toward the patio, Daniel had caught his eye with a curious look but didn’t intervene. He didn’t know what that look meant and he’d just as soon not have to think about it until later.

The scrape of a shoe caught his attention, and he jerked from his musing to focus on the object of his mindless desire.

Angelica. Here. Alone with him. In the dark. His heart thundered and his cock twitched at the thought.

God help him.

“Is this truly necessary, Julian?”

Necessary, no. Inevitable? It seemed so, at least with Angelica. He shifted the evidence as unobtrusively as possible, thankful for the darkness.

“It is if I’m to keep from crushing young Carston’s nose in front of the gabbiest members of the ton tonight.”

“Why would you, Julian? I thought you couldn’t afford to care? Or is it that you won’t…that you don’t care.” He could just make out her movement as she turned away. “I vow I’m tired of feeling an outsider. With Daniel and Charlotte, I’m an unwelcome reminder of a sad past. With the duchess, I’m the dirty family secret that must be tolerated. And with you, I’m not even to be a consideration, am I?” When her voice broke on the last, Julian felt as if he’d been knifed in the gut.

Her anguish flooded him like a storm surge, more severe because he had been the cause of her pain by his foolish behavior. Julian didn’t want to hurt her, but it seemed unavoidable.

“Don’t. Please,” he said, ready to beg her not to cry, not to turn him inside-out. He felt like a wounded boar, and feared he might lash out as unpredictably. In an instinctive attempt to soothe her, he gathered her into an embrace and patted awkwardly at her back.

Angelica, however, seemed to have other plans. She fit into his embrace as if it were designed for her alone. “J-Julian?” Her voice was husky, uncertain.

Julian sighed. “I can’t care, Angelica. We can’t have…this. Not only would Daniel geld me, you deserve better than to be debauched by an old reprobate like me.” He couldn’t make out her features in the dim light, didn’t know if his crude words would be enough to awaken her sense of propriety or downright offend her.

“Is that all you’d do with me? Compromise me?”

If one could feel a smile in the dark, Julian was certain he did. He choked on a sardonic laugh. “I can barely think of much else.”

He didn’t think it possible, but she managed to snuggle closer and slip her hands about his waist. Under his jacket. Silent curses filled his head.

“All right, then,” Angelica said.

Julian gripped her shoulders and pushed her away. “What?”

“I’m perfectly amenable to being compromised with another kiss. By you.”

Julian thought his heart stopped altogether. Excitement hummed in his veins like drones in a hive, and he moved, herding her until she was against the wall. Caught, trapped, subject to his whim. His cock rose appreciatively, nearly stealing his breath from the surge of raw lust. She wasn’t really his for the taking, but the illusion made his blood boil. His palms itched from the impulse to press her against the wall and claim her. Right here, right now.

Julian drew off a glove, his fingertips tingling in anticipation. Then he braced the other hand on the wall and leaned in. God, he could smell her, the musk of her skin. A thin sheen of perspiration made her glow in the pale moonlight. Was she staring at his lips?

“Do you understand what this is, Angelica? What’s between us?”

“Yes.” Her eyes were colorless in the moonlight.

“Then you know it’s wrong. We have to stop.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know any such thing. How can such feelings be wrong?”

Unable, or more honestly, unwilling to restrain himself any longer, Julian leaned in to claim her lips, and she watched with…anticipation? God, he hoped so. Just the thought that she might want this kiss as much as he enflamed him. What should have been a tender meeting of lips turned into a bold claim.

Angelica’s assertiveness surprised and delighted him, her tongue following his, a flicker of fire that fueled the inferno roaring in his veins. In his hardened erection.

The first sweep of his bare fingers to her neck tempted him to further boldness. He found the soft weight of her breast and cupped it, his thumb skimming the taut peak once, twice. The third stroke elicited a little moan and then she was arching, pushing into his hand as if to ask for more.

Julian felt hungry, urgent. Possessive.

Mine.

With the sentiment came the realization that he was done, finished deluding himself about what he wanted. It was right here in his arms. Julian couldn’t control himself around her, and he no longer wanted to.

He pulled back, lungs straining for air. Angelica blinked, her eyes heavy-lidded and lips glistening. Only then did he realize he’d been lifting her hems with his other hand. Here, in the gardens of the assembly hall with two hundred people milling about, likely to discover them at any moment. He stepped quickly away, seeking distance.

“I’m going to leave now.” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. “You need to return to the ballroom and your chaperon. Do you understand?”

Julian wanted to ease her crinkled brow, but he didn’t dare touch her again.

“I’d rather stay here with you.”

“You’ll go inside now, or you’ll ease my lust under a tree.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. Despite every instinct, hands on her shoulders, he turned her away.

“But—”

“Now. Go,” he said and gently pushed. “And stay away from Carston.”

Once, she glanced back with a frown then she disappeared inside.

Oh, yes, he’d see her tomorrow at Daniel’s birthday dinner. He needed to find the nerve to approach Daniel then. Surely, fortified with an after-dinner brandy and the quiet privacy of the study, Julian would be able to get the words out. He only hoped their friendship could withstand the revelation.

God help them both.

CHAPTER SIX

It was Daniel’s birthday, and Angelica was a mass of nerves. She had neither seen nor spoken to Julian since the dance. It was questionable whether or not she’d be able to eat a thing this evening, what with the knot in her stomach and trembling anticipation to see Julian again. He was certain to make an appearance, to wish Daniel well if for naught else; failure to do so would invite questions, of the sort she was fairly certain he wouldn’t want to be put to.

The mantel clock chimed nine.

“How unlike Vinedale, to be tardy,” said Charlotte with a frown. “Do you suppose we should send round and inquire? He usually puts in a good hour before we dine, and tonight is a special celebration.”

“I take your point, Charlotte, but I don’t think we need to loose the hounds just yet.” Daniel took a seat beside his wife. “I saw him at the club this afternoon, so he hasn’t taken ill. Even that nasty gash he took chasing Angelica’s thief looks better.”

“I do hope so. Do you think it will scar?”

“There’s no avoiding it, deep as it is.” Daniel patted Charlotte’s hand, while Angelica’s heart sank at the thought. He was permanently marked because of her? “Don’t know what he was thinking to go after the man. We may be back in England but the criminals are every bit as bad or worse as the thugs infesting Indian markets.”

Angelica frowned. Thug was a word Julian had also used. Had they run into some of these thugs while they were serving in the army there?

“Vine never could tolerate a thief. A few years back, there was a merchant in Bombay robbed while we took coffee at a local shop. Vine took off like a rifle shot after the ruffian. Caught him in no time, too.”

“Telling stories about me?” Angelica was listening so closely she jumped in surprise when Julian’s voice rang out. His visits were so frequent the butler no longer bothered to announce him. “Next you’ll be giving away my secrets.” He smiled as he crossed the room to claim a seat that seemed a world away, it was so far across the room.

Daniel laughed. “You haven’t any secrets that I know of, Vine. You are the most open person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, I think you’d be surprised,” Julian murmured and Angelica held her breath. Did he just cut his eyes toward her? It happened so quickly, she might have imagined it if it weren’t for the faint color that rushed his cheeks. Was Julian actually…blushing? Or was it just the healthy pink of a healing wound?

The memory of his demanding lips on hers flashed in her mind and stole her breath. Daniel would not be pleased if he knew. Julian had likely glanced in warning that this was a secret he intended to keep.

“I find that very difficult to believe,” declared Charlotte. “A man whose first impulse is to chase down a thief, rather than to stop and worry about soiling his threads, is a selfless gentleman in my book. Thank you, Vine, for looking after our…after Angelica for us.”

Now it was Angelica’s turn to blush. Everyone in the room knew that Charlotte and Daniel were Angelica’s true parents. It just wasn’t something that any of them spoke aloud, for fear of the servants spreading gossip.

“Indeed, it was my pleasure to be of assistance.”

“Well, we owe you another debt. Continue this way, my friend, and we’ll be indebted to you for life,” Daniel said.

Julian shrugged the comment away, as if the thought of anyone being indebted to him was unwelcome. And that gave Angelica pause. Julian didn’t have anyone that she could ascertain. No parents, siblings, or family of his own. There didn’t even seem to be anyone in line to inherit should Julian die without issue. And, with the exception of leisure time spent with Daniel, Julian hadn’t made any effort to change matters. No obligations or ties anywhere. How very lonely that must be.

“Your face seems to be healing nicely, Vinedale,” Charlotte said and leaned forward, her expression earnest. “If you hadn’t been there with Angelica, who knows what else might have happened?”

Daniel stood and poured Vinedale a drink. “I’ve had a word with Lord George Cavendish, and he’s agreed to secure the arcade with former members of his regiment, stationed as beadles. I’d like to see a thief get past one of his hussars in the future.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what the world is coming to.” Charlotte shook her head and rose. “Shall we move to the dining room and continue our discussion? I hope you don’t mind that we’ll be dining à la russe tonight. I’d like for the servants to practice handling the dishes properly before we host that dinner party next week.”

Since the household typically dined traditionally, à la français, the servants were used to delivering the entire meal at once to the table where guests could fill their plates according to their wish. The new Russian style of dining involved the servants bringing out individually plated courses and was rapidly become the more popular way to dine.

Charlotte rose from the sofa with her usual grace, took two steps and then, in slow motion, began to crumple, collapsing toward the floor like a marionette with severed strings. Thankfully, Daniel was just behind her and caught her about the waist.

“Dear heavens,” Angelica cried and surged forward. “Charlotte!”

“Charlotte?” Daniel swept his wilting wife into his arms.

“Here now, what’s this?” Julian was across the room in no time, as worried as the rest of them.

“I don’t know. She’s been off her meals the past few days and now this. I’m taking her back to her chamber to rest while Jiggs fetches a physician.” Then Daniel was gone, leaving Angelica alone to fret with only Julian for company.

CHAPTER SEVEN

After the household died down and the physician departed, Angelica had been allowed a brief visit to assure her of her mother’s well-being. A little pale, Charlotte was awake and she reclined within Daniel’s stunned embrace, a dreamy smile on her face.

Angelica wandered down the stairs, deep in thought about this latest turn of events. She didn’t belong, not here and not within the home she had grown up in. How false her entire life seemed when she had learned about her natural family, her true parents. She had only begun to feel like she was a part of this family, and now she stood again on the perimeter, watching as they built a new family together.

Not that she was upset about the life her parents were building. On the contrary, she was delighted for them. They deserved their happiness. But that didn’t mean that Angelica wasn’t lonely.

Lord, she was so lonely, she ached with it. She wanted something as meaningful, as fulfilling and consuming, for herself. She wanted to share her life with a man as dedicated to her as her parents were to each other.

Julian? Or Bradley?

Certainly Julian was older, but he wasn’t old. She liked that he knew his own mind, had made his way in the world long before he’d inherited his peerage. It gave him an assurance that the other ton gentlemen seemed only able to mimic, like so many brilliant-plumed macaws dutifully repeating their master’s token words.

What reached out to her the most was the loneliness that was so much a part of Julian. It echoed the emptiness that filled her since she became detached from her old life and her sense of family.

Would it be possible for two such damaged souls to fill the void in each other?

Bradley, on the other hand, seemed as boyish and carefree as ever. Interchangeable with the other dandies who had vied for her attention this Season, he seemed unpolished as he postured and jested with his brothers. What did he offer, besides exuberance?

At the base of the stairs, she paused to retrieve Charlotte’s silk shawl, dropped in the haste with which she had been rushed above-stairs. Angelica folded the luxurious wrap and draped it over her forearm, then headed toward the drawing room.

With Julian she felt…essential? Complete. Attuned to him in some elemental way.

Aroused.

Heavens, that kiss. Heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled the feel of his embrace, those assured hands holding her just so.

After closing the door for fear a servant would come upon her in her distraction, Angelica realized that she was not alone. The chamber seemed altered in the same indescribable way air changed in the midst of a lightning storm, crisp and sharp and full of awareness. Her heartbeat accelerated. There was only one person who could do that to a room.

Julian.

“I’m surprised you waited,” she said, still facing the door panel, a tremor shaking her. Inexplicably, she was afraid to turn. Afraid that he would finally spurn her and squash her tender heart.

“I wasn’t about to depart until I was reassured of Charlotte’s well-being.”

Angelica turned and found him across the room, haunting that same distant chair he’d claimed earlier.

“Indeed, she’ll be fine,” she said and crossed to the sofa. Julian watched her closely.

My, what a couple of caricatures they were, taking the roles of formality to ease the awkwardness, as if something fundamental had not changed between them in that alleyway. “She’s enceinte.”

“Pregnant?” Julian’s eyes flashed silver and a smile lit his face. He sighed as if he were releasing all of the tension that worry had crafted. “Daniel must be delighted.”

“Ecstatic.” Angelica fiddled with a tea service that had been delivered at some point, no doubt to provision their guest while the physician was conducting his examinations. On closer inspection, she found the brew had gone cold and replaced the lid with a frown. “Shall I send for more tea?”

“Not on my account, thank you.”

She nodded then sat back and closed her eyes with a sigh of her own. A moment later, she felt the thick, brocaded cushion beneath her shift, as if Julian had joined her on the sofa though she hadn’t heard a footstep. His scent, that warm citrus-infused bay rum he favored, drifted to her like a caress. She peeked from beneath her lashes and there he was. So close that she could touch him.

Close enough to entice him to another kiss?

“May I ask you something?” Julian said, staring at her lips.

“That depends.”

His head tilted. “On what?”

“On whether or not you’re going to ask to kiss me again.”

The breath he took was so deep and long that his nostrils flared slightly. He ran his hand through his hair, leaving a wake of ruffled locks. “God,” he muttered as if to himself. “You do tempt me.”

Did she really? Heat pooled in her center, seeping through her system like honey oozing across a hot scone. Angelica leaned in slightly, parting her lips in offering.

“Are you tempted now?” she prompted when he didn’t say anything further, didn’t move. Didn’t do anything but stare at her lips as if he were starving. Then he blinked and she wondered if it had only been her imagination.

“Do you have feelings for Bradley Carston?”

Was he jealous? She rather liked the thought that he might be. The warm, tingly feeling continued to spread. “Why?”

“Tell me.”

“I’m not certain, Julian.”

He didn’t seem to notice her use of his given name. They were now so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. So close, yet not near enough.

A single finger skimmed her cheek. “Have you asked him to kiss you as you ask me?”

“No, Julian.” The words were faint, barely a sound on an exhale. Her body trembled as she shifted infinitesimally closer, silently daring—begging—him to touch her. To take charge.

His eyes flared as if he noticed her use of his given name this time and liked it. A lot. As if he couldn’t help himself.

The heat coalesced in her loins. “I care for you.”

Like a river at flood stage, he rushed her, pressing his lips to hers and tangling his fingers in her hair, cradling the back of her head in his palm. Devouring her.

Without hesitation, she opened to him, enjoying the sensations of desire and need. She licked across the seam of his lips in encouragement. Julian responded with a low rumbling sound, his own tongue coming out to play in an erotic duel.

It felt so right, to be in his arms.

Of their own accord, her hands settled on his shoulders and she could feel the rising tension, his muscles bunched under her fingertips like the flanks of a steeplechaser taking a hedge.

When he pulled back, as if to stop the decadence of their embrace, she twined her arms around his neck and tugged. The momentum pulled him forward, held him in place until he took over with a groan, pressing until she was pinned between his hard torso and the soft cushion.

His fingertips skimmed the modest edge of her gown as if testing the barrier for weakness. Goose bumps rose in the wake. When, at her shoulder, he hooked a finger under the tiny cap sleeve and tugged, the fabric and shift gave way, easing down. Baring her shoulder. Teasing her senses.

As he licked and nibbled his way down her neck, she held her breath, her insides quivering. He nipped at the delicate skin of her collarbone then kissed it as if offering condolence for the rough treatment.

A tug and her gown loosened, only to be nudged aside. His mouth was questing. Nuzzling. The rough brush of his cheek abraded the tender skin just before his lips closed over her nipple. The moist heat caused her to gasp, and a shock of sensation raced down her spine like a lightning bolt straight to her loins. Her nipple peaked and his tongue curled around the tip, encouraging it to pucker so tightly as to be almost painful.

Angelica lost all sense of self. Of where they were. She could only focus on Julian laving her breast, and the fire the rhythmic licks set to her blood. She splayed her fingers across his head to hold him in place, to encourage him to continue that wild, tugging sensation. Never had she imagined such pleasure existed.

An impatient pull at his hair elicited a chuckle when he abandoned one breast for the other, now liberated from her clothing as well.

She was aflame, lost to the overwhelming feeling that raced through her like molten lead. She was restless, unsettled, and needed to move. To touch, feel, taste. She slipped her hands down, between them and under the folds of his jacket till she felt the crisp linen of his shirt, the heat of his skin through the thin layer of material.

Julian paused and raised up. “Stop,” he muttered, his body taut, frozen just inches above her flushed skin. “We have to halt. Now.” His rapid breaths stimulated her wet, sensitized nipples.

“No. I want you to debauch me as you promised.” There was no way she was going to let him cease. Not yet. It felt too good. She dug her fingernails into his back to prove the point, delighting in the strangled gasp it elicited, a sound of pleasure and pain.

“A servant could discover us.” His eyes flashed silver.

“They won’t. They’ve long since learned not to open closed doors in this house.” Was it wrong to enjoy the sight of Julian, his lips reddened and poised above her naked breasts? She was damp between her legs, impatient for more. She arched her back, straining to offer her flesh to him, silently begging him to accept her offer.

For the first time in a long while, Angelica didn’t feel so alone, didn’t feel as if she watched from afar as others experienced life. She felt connected. Vital. And she didn’t want it to end.

“Julian,” Angelica whispered, unable to keep any longer from begging. “Please.”

When he met her gaze this time, his eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated till the gray was nothing but a halo around the dark depths that promised no quarter. “I want to lick more than your breasts, Angelica. Will you let me?”

She wasn’t certain what he was asking for, but if the result was anything like what she’d just experienced, she’d let him do whatever he wanted.

She gulped. “Yes, please.”

If it had started raining right there in the drawing room, Angelica could not have been any more surprised than when Julian pulled away and dropped to his knees. Her legs dangled off of the sofa, her position raising her hems much higher than was appropriate. Julian encircled each exposed ankle with his warm hands. Slowly, he ran them up her calves, raising her skirts along the way. For a moment he paused when he reached the garters tied at her knees, then his hands were hot upon the bare skin of her thighs. When her skirts were folded back to her waist, he paused again and looked up.

If she had thought the image of him at her breast was breathtaking, it was nothing compared to the sight of him hovering over her naked thighs, the tight curls of her mound revealed to him. If she didn’t exhale soon, she might faint. But she couldn’t. Couldn’t do anything but watch as he gently pulled her knees apart, lifted one bent leg and placed her foot high on the sofa.

Julian stared at the vulnerable, slick flesh that he’d exposed, and then he inhaled, long and slow. “I can smell your desire already. You’re hot for me, aren’t you?”

She nodded, unable to blink, to look away in a maidenly show of shyness. She couldn’t think of anything other than please. Or more.

Julian reached up and placed her empty hand at her breast. “Rub yourself if it feels good. I’d like to watch you do that, pleasure yourself.”

Angelica squeezed her breasts reflexively, a trail of excitement flaring at Julian’s words, and at the feel of her hands doing something with the soft flesh other than wash them indifferently. How silly of her; she’d never realized she could pleasure herself in such a way. She kneaded them in her hands, her stiff nipples jabbing at her palms, causing her to tremble more, to lose a little more control. Between Julian’s hot gaze and her own ministrations, her body clenched. Cool air skimmed her damp flesh.

His eyes flared and he swallowed hard. “God, you learn quickly.”

“It feels so good, Julian.”

She felt the brush of his hand at the top of her thigh, grazing the delicate folds at the juncture, eliciting a frisson of sensation.

“And to think we’ve only just begun.” His smile was positively wicked, and then he moved and Angelica was left to stare at the dark hair that crowned his head.

When he kissed her there, at that most secret spot of her body, she would have slid off the sofa if he hadn’t pressed a restraining hand to her pelvis; she was so surprised that he…would. That it would feel so…

Then she felt the delicate probing of…oh, dear heavens…was that his tongue?

Julian still held her in place with one hand and the other she could feel parting, separating her folds so that his tongue—that wicked, velvety muscle—could lick and probe and cause her to completely lose her mind.

Someone was gasping, emitting little sounds, and in some distant corner of her mind Angelica realized she was the source. But she didn’t care, she was lost, caught up in a rising feeling, her hips helpless to do anything but rock rhythmically. Instinctively.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he paused to murmur against her flesh. “Relax and let it take you.”

This time his tongue rubbed, pressing against an unbelievably sensitive spot. His fingers skimmed her folds, teasing the highly sensitized opening. Taunting her where she ached the most, where her body clenched and tensed and sought something more.

Angelica rocked harder as Julian thumbed her faster, his growls of encouragement sending her passion higher. And then the fever reached a crescendo, everything dimmed and she was awash in pulsing waves of indescribable pleasure, her extremities numb as if every drop of blood had been sucked into her core to feed the sensation.

Julian gently kissed where she still throbbed, and then he rose up, looming as he claimed her lips in a musky, sybaritic kiss. Propped onto his forearms, he surrounded her, his hips pressed intimately between her thighs. The evidence of his arousal was a thick ridge, and he shifted his hips slowly back and forth to rub along her sensitive folds.

Desire rushed her, returning with alarming speed, and she was once again needy. She shifted to counter the rocking motion of Julian’s hips, intensifying the sensations. Julian reached down and loosed the buttons on his trousers, then paused. She looked down, wanting to see that most private and mysterious part of a man’s body, but his hand blocked the sight.

“Are you certain, Angelica?” Julian tensed and watched her closely. “If we continue, if you allow me to touch you further, there is no regress.”

“I know, Julian.”

“Do you?” Silver eyes drilled into her as if he could see into her core, to divine the truth of her words.

“Yes, I’m certain.” Angelica arched into him. “I want to experience this with you, Julian.”

“If we do this, you’ll be mine. In every sense of the word.”

Impatience made her restless, but Julian’s intensity reached her. Just the thought of belonging to Julian was enough to send her pulse leaping. But she knew what he really asked was if she understood the larger implications of their actions tonight. That she would be ruined in the eyes of society, if it were known.

Angelica, of anyone, knew what the worst consequence of their actions could be. And she’d willingly accept it in exchange for this moment.

Angelica placed her hand on his cheek. “I want nothing more than to be yours, Julian.”

With a groan, he crushed her to him in a greedy kiss. He pushed his trousers aside and he was there, his hot flesh to hers. Julian kissed his way down her neck as he rubbed his penis along her once, twice. Tremors of pleasure threaded through her. He guided the length, probing at the entrance to her very center. And then he shifted, pressed forward and, on a shaft of pain, he pushed in with a groan. Filling her. His head pressed into the crook of her neck.

Tears clouded her eyes as Julian reared back to look at her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said and touched the warm skin at his hip, under the long tail of his shirt. “It’s easing already.”

When next Julian moved, it was a tentative probing, a deepening of the penetration until she felt impossibly full, raw. Sensitive.

As if to bide his time, Julian licked a path to her breast, laving her until she ached with need. When he drew the peak into his mouth to suckle, she felt the sensation deep inside and her inner muscles clenched at Julian.

In response, Julian tensed then began to set an intriguing rhythm that Angelica was helpless but to follow. Heat flooded her, stole her breath until she was gasping, emitting those little sounds again.

“Oh, God, yes,” Julian groaned, his voice thick and muffled where he burrowed into the crook of her neck again. “Wrap your legs around my waist. Just like that, sweetheart.”

The new position offered an exquisite angle, and Angelica could feel tension building, the room fading and then… Julian cried out and nipped at her collarbone, the little sofa lurched and Angelica was lost in wave after wave of sensation.

Long moments later, Angelica felt Julian move. As if he didn’t want to disturb her, he eased away, then tugged her skirts down and smoothed the folds into place.

Angelica couldn’t look; she didn’t have the energy to lift a lid at the moment.

“That’s my girl,” murmured Julian.

Girl? She’d never felt more like a woman in her life.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Julian had to get her clothed, covered up. Get all of that sweet flesh hidden again, or he’d be tempted to do more. He fumbled with the tapes of her dress, and finally managed to get them tied.

Actually touching her, the scent of her arousal, heavy in the air from her orgasm, filled his senses and the taste of her… God, the taste of her was still rich upon his tongue. How he managed to dress her when every impulse in him screamed to strip her, bare her and take her again, he did not know.

But he needed to get it done, before they were discovered. Before it was revealed that he had deflowered the daughter of his closest friend.

Angelica didn’t even crack an eyelid she was so replete. She’d given herself to her passions so deeply, so trustingly…. Angelica emitted a soft shushing sound and Justin couldn’t restrain a smile. It wasn’t really a snore, but it was indicative of the deep sleep she’d succumbed to after her release.

He carefully tucked a stray curl behind her ear and rose to pour a drink, anything to clear his head.

Two fingers of brandy looked pretty shallow, so he measured out a third then stoppered the cut-crystal decanter. He paused at the window and looked into the inky night that had absorbed the tiny town-house garden. There wasn’t anything to see, save the glow of the odd carriage clattering down the alley to a neighbor’s mews, but it suited his mood just fine and he sipped leisurely from the glass.

He’d done it now. Crossed some invisible threshold between admiration and declaration. He’d known it the minute he let her pull him back into her embrace, and he’d let it happen. Like the tumblers of a well-crafted lock, the facets of his life—what he wanted and needed most—fell into place and he’d known. Known that everything that he was to become began and ended with this warm little bundle of a woman.

For a man who had spent nearly his entire life alone, it was a stunning proposition to consider that his world was not his own, that he didn’t have to be alone any longer. He could choose her, claim her for his and fill the void.

So, when she had wrapped her silken arms about his neck and hugged him to her breast and whispered “please” so prettily, he did choose. He decided then and there that he was going to marry Angelica, whatever it took to make it so.

Selfish bastard that he was, he chose Angelica. God help her.

And what would her father have to say on the matter?

The door to the drawing room opened and for one heart-stricken moment he thought that she was trying to sneak away from him, away from meeting his eye and acknowledging what they’d just done.

“You’re still here, Vine? Charlotte’s fine. Didn’t Angelica tell you the news?”

Julian turned from the window, the sudden arrival of Angelica’s father clearing his musings as effectively as a bucketful of snow dumped over his head.

“Indeed, I was just availing myself of your best brandy to toast your good fortune. Congratulations!”

Daniel grinned as if he’d never stop and slapped Julian on his back. “I’ve only just left her, sleeping finally. I have to tell you, it’s amazing. This morning when I awoke, it was just another day and that fast—” he snapped his fingers “—everything’s changed. It’s another second chance, and don’t I feel overwhelmed with blessings!” Daniel walked over and claimed the brandy that Julian poured, and they clinked their glasses together. “Would that you receive such blessings, my friend.”

“Indeed,” Julian said. He eyed Daniel and wondered if this mellow mood would lend itself to the news that his friend wanted to wed his overprotected daughter.

“What…?” Daniel frowned at the sofa, and Julian swallowed hard. God, could her father see the fading flush of passion on Angelica’s cheeks?

Then Daniel’s face cleared, replaced by a doting glow. “Oh, did she fall asleep? She’s probably overtired from the worry over Charlotte.”

Julian held his breath and his words, unwilling to lie.

Daniel knocked back the rest of his drink. “Well, I suppose I should send the dowager a note that Angelica’s to spend the night again, and then put her to bed. Never got to do it when she was little, so it’s a queer, happy feeling I get when I look at her in repose like this. All innocent and sweet.”

Julian choked and nearly swallowed his tongue. She was sweet, all right, but not so very innocent any longer, thanks to him.

How in the world could he broach the subject?

Just as Daniel leaned over Angelica to pick her up, she shifted and then sighed. “Oh, Julian.”

The soft sound was like cannon fire in the quiet room, the house still as if the world had ceased around them. Her eyes were closed, but the tiny smile of a well-satisfied woman now curved her lips. A smile that no innocent could sport.

Daniel froze then jerked back as if stung. He straightened, staring at Angelica as he moved back one step, then two. Then he pivoted with military precision and impaled Julian with an accusatory glare.

Unblinking, Julian met his gaze, guilt and dread binding like mortar in his gut.

“My daughter, Julian?” Daniel’s voice rumbled with accusation, as deep and threatening as thunder before a violent storm. “You defiled my daughter?”

Julian cleared his throat to find his voice. “It isn’t like that, Daniel.”

Shoulders back, hands fisted at his side, Daniel moved forward, eyes glittering with righteous fury. “What was it then, Julian? Are you going to tell me that you didn’t touch Angelica?”

Of course he couldn’t. Not without lying.

Daniel’s anger grew in the moment that Julian hesitated, the silence revealing. “Did you take her?” Daniel was hoarse with ire, his stance menacing.

More silence as Julian struggled with words. What could he say? He’d never been in such a circumstance before, being generally more circumspect in such things.

“You son of a bitch!” In two steps, Daniel was close enough to swing and mean it. The blow landed on Julian’s left cheekbone. He felt the skin tear where Daniel’s knuckles connected, and he absorbed the brunt of the blow.

Julian stood still, accepting the emotion-laden punch as his due. Hoping for atonement and silently praying that this might begin the path to forgiveness.

A flurry of silk indicated that Angelica was now awake and alert to the proceedings. “What—?”

“I thought you were my friend,” Daniel continued and swung again. This one connected with his gut and he grunted as the air left his body. Julian forced his body to relax further, penitent. “I trusted you.”

Swing. Connect. Grunt.

“Daniel! Stop it! You’re hurting him!”

“By God, I’ll do more than that by the time I’m done. Let go of my arm, Angelica.”

“No! Please stop and listen to reason.”

Daniel turned on her, his hands fisted at his sides, nonthreatening but indicative of the depth of his rage. “Reason, is it? What would you consider a reasonable reaction, then, for a man who’s discovered his daughter defiled in his own home. This is the one place my children should be safe. I wasn’t there to protect you as you were growing up, Angelica, and now I’ve failed you as an adult.”

“Oh, Daniel.” Angelica began to cry, horror etched on her face. “You mustn’t think that!”

Julian couldn’t stay silent any longer. Perhaps if he reassured Daniel that his intentions were honorable, the worst of this situation could be diffused. He took a deep breath, wincing from the pain in his ribs. “It’s not a flirtation, Daniel. I’m in earnest.”

Daniel flinched. “Somehow, I think that makes matters worse. That you planned her seduction before me.”

“I never intended things to go so far.”

“Well, they have. And what’s to be done now?”

“I’m prepared to offer for her. We wouldn’t… I wouldn’t…” A glance toward Angelica showed shock still gripped her, and she pressed a fist to her mouth as if to stifle further outburst. This was not going well. Angelica wasn’t listening and Daniel just purpled further in fury.

“No,” Daniel said in an ominous voice as he glared at Julian with something like hatred, and Julian felt as if he’d been hit in the stomach all over again. “Don’t bother. I won’t force Angelica to anything. I know firsthand the consequences of a meddling father. If I can give her nothing else, I’ll be sure that she is free of that.”

What was this? Daniel wasn’t going to insist they wed? But that was what Julian wanted, why he’d allowed himself to take her.

Julian stared at his friend, helpless. He knew Daniel well enough to recognize the older man was on the verge of losing control again, and while Julian knew a sound thrashing was his due for letting matters go so far, this was neither the time nor the place to have matters out.

If there was one thing certain, Daniel wouldn’t harm Angelica, either with words or action. It was Julian he was furious with. If Julian knew anything of his friend, the best recourse was to allow him the chance for his anger to cool so he might see matters with some distance. Daniel would see reason. Eventually.

With a nod, Julian moved across the room then paused at the threshold. “I’ll call in the morning, Daniel,” he said firmly, unwilling to leave matters unresolved for long.

For a moment, it seemed that Daniel wouldn’t respond. And when he did, Julian felt his heart shatter.

“Don’t. You’re not welcome here.”

Julian left without another word. He was willing to yield the moment, but by no means was he giving up. Julian would fight for both his future wife and his friend. This couldn’t—wouldn’t—be the end of everything he held dear.

CHAPTER NINE

The door closed behind Julian with the finality of a judge’s gavel. Angelica trembled, her emotions riotous, swinging like a pendulum between ecstasy and misery in mere moments.

Daniel stood with his back to her, unmoving. Could he not stand to look upon her?

Finally, she could take the silence no more. “Daniel?” she asked, her voice a timid thread of sound in the quiet room.

Daniel shuddered but took a deep breath and turned toward her. His soft brown eyes were ringed with dark circles, as if bruised. His pain was a tangible thing, and her heart wrenched in response.

“I’m so sorry, Daniel.”

He moved across the room with surprising speed and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t. Don’t you ever apologize to me, little angel.”

“I’ve disappointed you. Let you and Charlotte down.” For the first time, Angelica realized that it mattered to her what this man thought of her, more so than she’d ever cared what her faux parents thought. The tears flowed more rapidly, soaking his shoulder.

“You never could.” Daniel rocked her back and forth, soothing.

“Truly?”

His smile was a sad, twisted sort of thing, but it was sincere. “Truly.” He cupped her cheek. “I am so proud of the woman that you have become, Angelica. Nothing will ever change that.”

“But your anger—”

“Is directed at Julian, not you. I thought he was a better man than to lead an innocent young miss astray. Worse, still, that it was my own he chose.”

“What if—” Angelica inhaled deeply then hiccupped. She couldn’t let him think the worst of Julian, that he was some sort of rover. “What if Julian were the one being led astray?”

Daniel frowned and narrowed his eyes, watching her closely. “Do you mean because you flirted with him?”

“Or something.” Angelica tried to look away, but insistent fingers pulled her back to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

She braced herself. By telling him the truth, she very well might jeopardize the affinity and regard he felt for her. For good. But something told her this was the most important thing that she could do to help salvage the relationship she knew Daniel valued every bit as much as Julian did.

“Julian tried to be noble, tried not to succumb to what lay between us, but I encouraged—nay, I invited Julian to make love to me.” Heavens, she’d got the words out, but she couldn’t meet his eye. Not yet. “And I’d do it again.”

A long pause. “So, you care for him?”

She hesitated to consider. The fist that squeezed her heart at the thought of doing without Julian confirmed her mind. “I do. More than anything.”

“Do you want to marry him?”

“He, uh, hasn’t tendered an offer.”

Anger, still so close to the surface, flared back to life, and she could feel Daniel’s muscles tense. “Oh, he hasn’t, has he? We’ll just see about that.” He pulled away as if prepared to set off after Julian at that moment.

“No, please. You said that you wouldn’t interfere.”

“I’ll be damned if I do or don’t, won’t I? What would you have me do, then? Sit by and watch him break your heart?”

“You don’t trust him to do the right thing?”

“The man I thought that I knew, I trusted with my life, on many occasions.”

“Then why won’t you trust him with your daughter’s? He’ll come to me of his own accord or he won’t.” He still would after all of this, wouldn’t he?

“As you wish. But I don’t have to like it.” Daniel shook his head. “No matter the outcome, know that I still love and care for you very much.” He kissed her forehead.

“Thank you, Papa.”

It was the first time she had called him anything but his given name; it was the first time she felt like this man was her father, by more than biology.

His smile was watery. “I’ve waited a long time for you to call me that, daughter.”

CHAPTER TEN

“You are a bastard, Vine.”

The hour was exceptionally early, but Daniel neither tempered his voice nor betrayed an ounce of regret for his appearance in Julian’s study at the socially repugnant hour of seven. In the morning.

Not that Julian had been abed. Most of the night he had passed in the study with a brandy and a headache, heart overflowing with self-recriminations. Julian felt as if he’d been run down by one of Trevithick’s steam engines. His ribs actually creaked when he moved and it hurt just to breathe.

Through sleepless, burning eyes, Julian watched as Daniel took a seat on the far side of the desk, looking clearheaded and groomed. Well, someone had managed to get some rest. And calm down.

“Yes,” Julian said. “I am.”

Silence stretched between them as Daniel assessed Julian in the bright light of day. Looking for the quickest way to eviscerate him? Or studying the weak shell of a man Julian had become?

“I should hate you, Julian.”

“Yes.”

“I could emasculate you.”

Julian winced. “One can only hope you manage to stifle that particular impulse.”

“But I won’t do either.”

“My thanks,” he said solemnly. Of anyone, Julian knew what Daniel was capable of.

Another pause. What was he to make of Daniel’s stony face? This wasn’t farewell…was it?

“What I am is furious.”

“And you have every right to be. I am ashamed of my behavior, of letting you down in the worst possible way.” Julian swallowed hard. “I tried so hard to resist my feelings for her, Daniel.”

“That’s not what I’m angry about.”

Julian blinked. What?

“Don’t mistake me. I’m not happy about it, but I understand the nature of overwhelming…passions. I knew you were attracted before we learned she was my daughter. I saw the look on your face the other night as you led her away from the competition for her affections.” Daniel barely smiled. “But I’m more distressed that you didn’t tell me, Julian, before matters progressed so far. You are the most open and honest person I know. Why didn’t you trust me enough to understand?”

Julian’s heart thundered as he considered Daniel’s unexpected response.

“Fear,” Julian said and ran a hand through his hair. “All of those years fighting in India, and I was never so afraid than at the thought of losing the both of you.”

Daniel stood and Julian rose with him. This was the moment Julian had sought to avoid, but had always been inevitable.

Leaning across the desk, Daniel narrowed his eyes and glared. “Whatever you do from this day forward, Julian,” he growled, “remember one thing…”

Cold dread seeped through Julian and his blood slowed, thickening as if it had turned to sludge in this veins.

“…I’ll expect better of my son-in-law than I do of my friends. Don’t let it happen again.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

God, Angelica was lovely. Especially when she glowered at him as she was doing right now. Apparently, she wasn’t quite as excited to see him as he was to see her. All he had to do was think of her and he went hard as a stone.

Julian just wanted to pounce like a wild animal, to claim her in as base and permanent a way as possible. Right there on the rug in front of that monstrous desk that Daniel had hauled back from India.

He was going to hell. He was convinced of it.

“What are you doing here?” she croaked as she scanned Daniel’s study for other occupants.

“Waiting for you.”

Frowning, she watched him closely. “Why?”

“I had further discussions with your… Daniel.”

“Oh.” She worried her lip, biting down on that plump flesh like he had dreamed about doing. “What happened?”

“We’ve come to terms on a few things. Want to tell me what the puppy wanted?” It had not improved Julian’s mood to discover Angelica entertaining a suitor in the garden when he arrived.

“Who…oh, you mean, Bradley?”

“Who else has been here sniffing at your skirts?” So help him, he’d better have this sorted out today or he’d be throwing more than fists. Visions of tossing young Carston into the Thames nearly made him smile.

“Don’t be crude.”

“That’s no insult to you, Angelica.” He grabbed her by the shoulders when she began to turn away. Her light fragrance teased him, amplifying the tension in his muscles, the blood that still ran hot in his veins from the “discussion” with her father. “Now tell me, what did he want?”

“He wanted me to marry him.”

Fury blossomed in his chest. Just the thought that the boy had mustered the nerve to approach her was enough to elicit images of precisely how Julian was going to end the interloper’s life.

And where had that defiant gleam in Angelica’s eye come from? She was his. She’d given herself to him in the most awe-inspiring, soul-searing way imaginable. It was irrevocable. So help him, if she had even thought about accepting that offer… Goddamn it.

“Is that so?” Julian snarled, unable to help himself. “And how did he take your refusal?”

“Who said I declined his offer?”

“Don’t trifle with me, Angelica.” He didn’t like the sound of his own voice, didn’t like the way she responded, either. As if she’d like nothing more than to kick him where it hurt and bid him farewell. That was not going to happen. “What did you tell him?”

“Does it matter?”

Julian wanted to shake her. He wanted to crush her to him and brand her so that no one—least of all Angelica—would doubt that she was his.

And she was going to be his wife, not some infant schoolmate’s from her childhood.

His.

Unable to help himself, he pressed forward, herding her until he had her penned between his arms and the silk moiré wallpaper. Slowly, keeping tight reins on his anger and the lust that was running amok, he pressed into her.

“Of a certainty it matters, sweetheart.” Hip-to-hip. Chest-to-chest. Her lips just there, just a handbreadth away. “It matters when you spend a moment, a thought, an ounce of energy on any man but me. It matters because of the way you eradicate the loneliness in my soul, and the way that you melt in my arms, respond to my kiss. In the way that you spread those lovely thighs and welcome me home. It matters because you’re mine.”

And then, he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t want to. With the heat and lush softness of her body cradling his and her scent filling his head, easing his fury while stoking his lust, he was lost.

Angelica welcomed him as she always had, with a little start of surprise as if she couldn’t quite believe that he was kissing her, and then unrestrained response. A purr of excitement reached his ears, followed by the teasing flick of her tongue, encouraging him to deepen the kiss, to quest and duel with her own. For long moments, he lost himself to the taste of her.

Then he leaned back, panting like a thoroughbred at the end of a race. “I love you, Angelica.”

Lips glistening and slightly swollen from his attentions, she opened slumberous eyes that glinted like glass caught in sunshine. “I told him no,” she whispered. “I told him my affections lie elsewhere. With you.”

His heart squeezed painfully. “Do they now?”

She nodded. “I once told you that I couldn’t imagine caring enough for a husband to kill myself over him. But that was before I fell in love with you,” she said, her eyes tender. “It’s you I love, Julian. None other.”

Abruptly, he let her go and stepped back.

She looked stunned by his action, and he couldn’t blame her. But he was determined.

“What’s the matter, Julian?”

His hands shook as he fumbled with his pocket, tearing a seam in his haste. Then he had the tiny object free, pinched between his fingers and glittering wildly. Angelica glanced from Julian to the ring, then back to Julian. For a moment, he didn’t think he could speak for the knot that had settled in his throat.

“Marry me,” he finally managed to say in a ragged whisper.

“Oh, Julian.” A fat tear escaped and rolled down her cheek and for a heart-wrenching moment he thought she was about to decline. But then, with a brilliant smile and a trembling hand, she whispered, “Yes,” and opened her arms to him.

The kiss that followed touched his soul. It was a celebration of their love, and a promise.

The sound of a throat clearing eventually reached his muddled brain and Julian came up for air only to find Daniel staring at him with raised brow. He didn’t look exactly happy, but he also didn’t have that promise of retribution in his eye.

“Rumor has it you’re going to marry my little angel.”

With a smile, Julian was delighted to admit that rumor did indeed have it right.

Don’t miss Charlotte and Daniel’s story in An Imprudent Lady by Elaine Golden, available now wherever ebooks are sold!

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Claimed by the Wolf Prince by Marguerite Kaye

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Seduced: The Scandalous Virgin by Deborah Hale

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Temptation is the Night by Marguerite Kaye

Summoned for Seduction by Joanne Rock

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Since writing a report on Pompeii in the 6th grade, Elaine has been fascinated with history. Growing up, she daydreamed about how people lived in other eras. After all, she was planning to be an archaeologist so it was good practice! When Elaine discovered historical romance, she was immediately hooked.

Elaine Golden is a debut author with Harlequin Historical Undone! and her current work is set in Regency England.

When she isn’t writing, Elaine loves to travel and explore historical sites first-hand, from Bath and Stonehenge to the catacombs of Paris and the ruins of the Port Arthur penal colony. She also loves to make heirloom quilts for family members, but only manages one or two a year.

Today, Elaine lives in the Nashville, Tennessee area with her husband, her real-life hero of over 20 years.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-8877-9

A Disgraceful Miss

Copyright © 2011 by Elaine Golden

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