The Belle of Belgrave Square (Belles of London #2)(104)

“From personal experience?” He asked the question casually. Too casually.

“No, indeed. I’ve never been in love before. I’ve only ever imagined it.”

“What did you imagine?”

“Little things. Flowers and chocolates. A gentleman sending me a Valentine or writing me a poem.”

“A poem.”

“You don’t like poetry?”

“Enough to know I shouldn’t be writing it myself.”

Julia smiled as she settled back into his arms. He gathered her close, resting his chin on her head.

In that moment, she could easily believe herself in love with him.

She was tempted to tell him so, not only for her own sake, but for his. She didn’t like him to think he was unworthy, or that she was punishing him for his past.

But she didn’t tell him.

The truth was, she didn’t know what she felt.

Lying with him this way, twined in his arms, her emotions were as tangled as their limbs.

And worse.

She couldn’t help but think that he’d lain this way before, with Dolly Carvel. And not only once, but many, many times.

A depressing recollection. It threatened to eat away at the edges of Julia’s happiness. She refused to let it. No matter Jasper’s past, in this moment, he belonged to her.



* * *





?Julia awoke sometime later to the mattress creaking as Jasper climbed out of bed. When he didn’t return, she sat up, pushing her hair from her eyes. The room was cold and dark, raising gooseflesh on her naked skin.

Good gracious. She wasn’t wearing a nightgown.

A rush of self-consciousness had her pulling the coverlet over her bosom. “What time is it?”

“Nearly midnight.” Jasper stood from lighting the fire. The flames caught quickly, illuminating him in the darkness. He was in his dressing gown, his black hair disheveled. “This room gets a fearful draft when the weather turns. I didn’t wish you to be cold.”

“I wouldn’t be cold if you hadn’t got up,” she said. “Come back to bed.”

“In a moment.” He crossed the room to where his coat was draped over the back of a chair. Reaching into an interior pocket, he withdrew a thickly stuffed envelope. “In all the excitement of the evening, I completely forgot. I have a letter for you.”

“From the solicitor?”

He returned to their bed. “From Lady Anne.”

“Anne has written?” Julia was wide awake now. She took the envelope from him.

Jasper lit their bedside oil lamp. “It was waiting at the post office. It appears to have been misdirected at first.”

Julia examined the envelope. It was postmarked from London, not two days after they’d wed. “She must have written immediately on hearing the news of our marriage.”

Which meant Anne had sent it before receiving Julia’s own letter.

A glimmer of anxiety made her hesitate before breaking the seal. Anne wasn’t above scolding her, and in the most severe terms if she felt they were warranted. As excited as Julia was to hear from her friend, she didn’t relish the thought of Anne’s rebuke.

Jasper climbed in bed beside her. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Go ahead and read it. I don’t mind.”

“I suppose I may as well.” Securing the bedsheet more firmly under her arms, Julia opened the letter and began to read.

    My dearest Julia,

You nonsensical little goose. What have you got yourself into? I called on you in Belgrave Square this morning only to be informed by your ailing father that you’d eloped, not two days ago, with the infamous Hero of the Crimea. Can it be true? Have you really married the man and in such a hurly-burly fashion?

I should have known this might happen. He’s been pursuing you ever since he arrived in London. We all saw it. I blame myself for not intervening sooner. Had I confronted him, I might have prevented it, but even I—with all my suspicions—underestimated the fellow. Who could have guessed he would be so ruthless as to carry you away? And you on your sickbed!

Your father says you are in North Yorkshire by now, living among the savages. I dare not believe it. You are altogether too good to be exposed to such villainy. I fear the effect it might have on your constitution. I cannot even be sure you will see this letter. Captain Blunt is likely reading your post, discarding anything that might encourage your will to escape him. It’s in his interest to keep you feeling as though you were alone and friendless.

Take heart, my dear. You’re not friendless. You have me, and Stella, and Evie. And though we may not have much power at our disposal to see things right, trust that I shall make every effort to do so. I have several ideas up my sleeve. In the meanwhile, please write to me at once and assure me of your safety.

With affection,

Anne



“Unpleasant news?” Jasper asked.

Julia cast him a rueful glance. “She thinks you abducted me.”

Jasper didn’t appear surprised. “Is that all?”

Julia slowly refolded the pages of the letter and returned them to the envelope. “She’s worried about me. I shall have to write her again to reassure her. She seems to believe I’ll shatter like glass at the first sign of difficulty.”