The Belle of Belgrave Square (Belles of London #2)(105)

“Perhaps she doesn’t know you as well as she thinks she does.”

“She knows who I was in London.” A scared little mouse with her nose in a book. A young lady unwilling to defy her parents, even if obedience to them meant she must give up her dreams, her desires, her very life.

Julia was ashamed to recall it.

It wasn’t as if her parents had beat her or locked her in her room without any food or water. She’d had no good reason not to stand up to them. None save her own anxiousness and lack of self-worth.

“You’re not that person anymore,” Jasper said.

“I don’t feel as though I am,” she said. “Perhaps it’s simply that things are easier in the country?”

“Easier? Here?” A glint of wry humor flashed in his eyes. “You can suggest that after the day you’ve had?”

Julia suppressed a grimace. At dinner, she and the children had told Jasper about their tumultuous visit to Hardholme. “It’s easy to be brave on someone else’s behalf.”

“No, it isn’t,” he said. “It’s easier to do nothing. To turn a blind eye. Many people do, even the biggest and strongest of us.”

“I could hardly do so when someone was mistreating the children. They were relying on me to protect them.”

“You did. And admirably so.”

“I’d rather I hadn’t made such a scene. I’d promised Daisy a lovely day shopping.” Her gaze drifted guiltily to the stack of boxes teetering on the bench at the end of the bed. She still hadn’t unpacked them. “I fear I may have bought too much trying to make up for it.”

“I meant to ask . . . Did you put it on my account?”

She bit her lip. They’d had no opportunity to discuss finances earlier, nor to talk about Jasper’s visit to the solicitor. At their first moment of privacy, they’d been in each other’s arms, all thoughts of money forgotten.

But not now.

Now, the reality of their situation all came crashing back.

“Some of it,” she said. It was always more respectable to pay with credit than cash. “The rest I bought with money from my reticule.”

His brows lifted in question.

“I’m accustomed to keeping a large quantity tucked away for books and hair ribbons and things,” she explained.

“Not so large now, I’d wager.”

“No, indeed. It’s diminishing by the day.” She hesitated to ask, “Did Mr. Piggott tell you when we might expect the rest of my funds?”

“He’s setting things in motion.”

“How?”

“Sending a telegraph to the bank to start, with a formal letter to follow. I gave him a copy of our marriage lines, and I instructed him to contact Mr. Finchley if there should be any difficulties.”

She nodded, praying there wouldn’t be any difficulties to speak of. “Should I do anything?”

“Not a thing.” He bent his head to nuzzle her ear. “Except . . .”

A delicate shiver of pleasure traced down her spine. “What?”

He kissed her neck. “I wonder if you’d be willing to read my manuscript?”

Julia’s face spread into a smile.

He’d called his writing the most private part of himself. And now he was offering to share it with her. As gestures went, it felt almost as important as him telling her he loved her.

“I would be honored,” she said. “When would you like me to start?”

“Not at this precise moment.”

Warmth ignited in her veins. “Do you have something else in mind?”

He took her in his arms. “As a matter of fact,” he said, “I do.”





Thirty-One





The next three days passed in a whirlwind of activity. In the mornings, while the children were at their lessons, Julia repaired to Jasper’s tower room to pore over the pages of his manuscript. Jasper came with her, pacing in front of the bookshelves as she read, as restive as a caged lion.

On the afternoon of the third day, reading still unfinished, Julia was obliged to carry the manuscript out to the garden. There, settled on an old blanket beneath an alder tree, she continued reading as Jasper supervised the children’s riding lesson with Plimstock.

Alfred was mounted on Quintus, and Daisy was perched atop Cossack, acclimating herself to Julia’s sidesaddle. Charlie led the black gelding back and forth along the edge of the overgrown garden, encouraging his little sister to stop fidgeting and sit up straight.

Jasper eventually left the three of them in the groom’s charge. Crossing the garden, he came to join Julia. “Haven’t you finished yet?”

“Unfortunately not.” She moved her full skirts out of the way, making room for him on the blanket.

He sank down beside her. He was in his shirtsleeves, his collar open at the neck. Her gaze flitted over the column of his throat. She’d kissed him there last night as he made love to her.

But he wouldn’t be distracted by memories of their marital intimacies.

“In London you claimed you could finish a book in but a few hours,” he said.

“I can,” she replied, “if I’m left alone uninterrupted.”

That hadn’t been possible these past days. Not with the children and all the demands of the household. She’d had Cossack to exercise, letters to write, and kittens to visit with Daisy. Indeed, at any given moment, Julia’s attention was pulled in a dozen different directions.