Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)(69)

Julian scrambled from the bed and darted through the connecting door into Lily’s private parlor, gathering the birdcage with one hand and scooping up a stray lap blanket with the other. How he rued ever gifting her with the ridiculous creature. With determined haste, he shouldered open the door and marched the parrot down the corridor toward the staircase.

“There you are,” he said, setting the cage on the top step. “Holling will find you eventually.”

The bird chided, “Guilty, guilty.”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “Yes, I know. Stop reminding me.” He shook out the blanket and prepared to drape it over the cage.

“Oh, Juuulian,” the parrot shrieked. “Guilty, guilty! Mr. James Bell.”

His heart stalled. His hands froze in place, suspending the flannel drape in midair. “What the devil did you just say?”

Blue and green wings stretched. “Thank you, that will be all.”

“You miserable feathered …” Julian growled with frustration and tugged at his hair. It was that or pluck the parrot bare, plume by impertinent plume.

Mr. James Bell. Who’d taught the bird to say “Mr. James Bell”? Tartuffe must have been nearby when he came to escort Lily to the theater. Bloody hell.

What a fool he’d been just a minute ago, thinking there was no room for his past to intrude. He hadn’t even been married an hour, and already the perfect future he’d imagined for himself and Lily threatened to crumble around him, all thanks to a loose-beaked, decrepit bird. Panic closed in, clammy and oppressive, sending rivulets of cold perspiration down his back.

“Now you listen to me,” Julian said, crouching low and leveling a finger at the impudent creature. “You’re going to forget you ever heard that name. Otherwise for tomorrow’s dinner, I will specially request parrot fricassee.”

The bird cocked its head and regarded him with an accusing eye.

“I mean it. I will endanger you and your entire species.”

The parrot turned away in indignant silence.

Julian threw the blanket over the cage. “Wise bird.”

As he made his way back to Lily’s chambers, he tried to convince himself this was no cause for concern. So the parrot had learned the name “Mr. James Bell.” It signified nothing. Lily couldn’t even hear it. None of the servants would ascribe any meaning to it. The bird had been passed from gentleman to gentleman for years now. He might have picked up the name anywhere.

Julian paused with his hand on the bedchamber door latch, letting the cool brass calm his nerves. He would not allow the ravings of a deranged parrot to ruin his wedding day. This was what he’d been waiting for all his life.

This was love. This was Lily.

Resolving to banish all worries, he flung open the door. And halted mid-step.

Because this was Lily, naked.

Lily paused, one foot propped on the bed steps, arrested in the act of rolling her stocking over her knee.

Aside from that half-unrolled stocking, and its untouched counterpart on her other leg, she was bare to the skin. And Julian was standing in the doorway, utterly entranced.

Oh, drat.

“You …” she stammered. “Er, that was fast.”

He didn’t respond. Merely … tilted his head a fraction. His gaze roamed every part of her except her face. Fortunately, her bent leg and a fall of unbound hair served to conceal her most private places from his view. She didn’t dare move a muscle, for fear of exposing herself completely. Her hastily discarded gown, stays, and shift lay in an unhelpful heap on the floor.

“I meant to finish undressing before you returned,” she explained, “and wait for you in bed, under the covers. To surprise you.”

He remained silent, considering.

Lily blushed from head to toe. Now that she’d explained herself, she hoped he would do her the courtesy of ducking back into the corridor, counting ten, and allowing her to finish. But he showed no sign of moving at all.

“This is better,” he finally said, nodding in agreement with himself. “Much better.”

Still, he made no move.

“Are you just going to stand there staring at me?”

“Not for long.” He stayed her with an open palm. “Hold right there.” Then he leaned against the doorjamb and began to work at removing his boots.

Hold right there, indeed. Wherever would she go? She could act missish, she supposed. Blush, squeal, and grab for her chemise. Make an ungainly scramble up these low steps and dive under the bedclothes.

But as vulnerable as she was in her nakedness, she wasn’t afraid. She had power over him. The evidence was prominent indeed, where it pressed against his trouser fall. His obvious arousal told her he had needs. And the determined look in his eyes told her he had plans.

She wanted to learn what they were.

So she remained still, foot propped on the step and torso arched over her bent knee, watching him as he set his boots aside and shrugged out of his topcoat and waistcoat. Stripped down to shirt and trousers, he crossed to her in smooth, confident strides. Her skin prickled with gooseflesh as he advanced.

He stopped at her side. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

The stark hunger in his gaze revealed the truth of his statement. And that unsettled Lily. He’d wanted this for a long time. Perhaps imagined it in vivid, shocking detail. What if the actual experience didn’t live up to his expectations? She wanted so much to please him. To reward his patience.