Page 10 of The Earl Takes All
Disappointment slammed into her because he was retreating, was regretting what had just passed between them. “None is needed. You’re my husband.”
“But the babe.” His gaze dipped to her belly. “Did I hurt the babe?”
“Your son is a bit stronger than that.” Still, she took a step back as well and bade the servant to enter.
More than one came in carrying trays bearing an assortment of covered dishes. Julia sat as a maid set a tray in her lap. Albert had retreated back to the fireplace, was gulping his wine with vigor while a young maid set his tray on the low table.
“Will there be anything else, m’lord?” the first maid asked.
Staring at the fire, Albert merely took another swallow of wine.
“No, that’ll be all,” Julia said.
The servants left, closing the door in their wake. Her husband stayed as he was.
“Albert?” He seemed lost. “Albert,” she said more sharply.
He finally jerked his head toward her, his brow furrowed so deeply it had to be painful.
“Sit, eat,” she told him.
“Are you certain I didn’t hurt you?”
“It was quite lovely actually. It’s been so long. I was beginning to fear you hadn’t missed me as much as I missed you.”
“Trust me. Not a night went by that I didn’t drift off to sleep without thoughts of you.”
“I’m selfishly glad to hear that. Were you tormented by those thoughts?”
“In ways you cannot possibly comprehend.”
She was being beastly to take such satisfaction in knowing thoughts of her had plagued him, but it was so incredibly satisfying. She smiled softly. “Let’s eat, shall we?”
He gathered up the clothes she’d strewn over the chair, took them to the bench at the dressing table and then dropped into the chair that put him the length of the short table away from her. She had hoped he would sit on the sofa, on the corner nearest to her. Perhaps he hadn’t because he feared she’d be a distraction.
She’d feel a bit better about things if she had the sense that he welcomed the distraction. Instead she was left with the awareness that he regretted it.
ThankGod for the knock on the door.That was all that ran through Edward’s mind.Thank God, thank God, for the knock on the door.
He’d been on the verge of lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. For the first time since his return he hadn’t been consumed with guilt, buried in grief. Instead, he’d been lost in passion, desire such as he’d never known. Her fragrance, her heat, her softness. It didn’t matter that it would have been the worst possible thing he could have done. For a moment she’d served as a blessed distraction. The fire in her kiss—
Good Lord. Where the devil had that come from? Certainly there had been a spark that night in the garden, but what he just experienced had fairly consumed him. Maturity and knowledge gained had replaced innocence and naiveté. A lethal combination that could send his good intentions to perdition.
With an unsteady hand, he reached for the wine, began pouring, saw her arch a delicate brow, and refrained from refilling his glass to the top. Being alone with her in a bedchamber was proving to be incredibly dangerous to his ruse. But how to avoid it? He had to recall that she held no affection whatsoever for Edward, that the kindness she was showing him, the temptations she offered, were merely offered because she believed he was Albert.
This was Julia—who had kicked him out of his brother’s London residence because he arrived home in the early hours in an inebriated state that she didn’t fancy. Julia—who had encouraged Albert to reduce Edward’s allowance so he couldn’t indulge to his heart’s content in wine, women, and wagering. Julia—who always looked at him as though he were something she’d recently scraped off the bottom of her shoe.
Julia—who had arranged an elaborate and elegant funeral for a man she couldn’t tolerate. Who had seen to a few guests without complaint even though it had exhausted her. Who had kissed him as though no one in the world were more important to her. Who had initiated the kiss. He’d never had a woman do that before. It was incredibly intoxicating.
If she had hated him after the encounter in the garden, she was going to hate him doubly so when she learned the truth and recalled this kiss. He had to avoid his lips coming within a hairbreadth of hers, lest he forget again that he was not the one she loved, the one she desired, the one with whom she’d exchanged vows.
Looking down at his plate, he bit back a curse. Garnished fish. Of course, on a day like today, the cook would have prepared Albert’s favorite. Edward had never developed a taste for it. He preferred his meat red and bloody.
“What were you reminiscing?”
He jerked his head up, saw Julia studying him as though once again beginning to have doubts about him. “Pardon?”
“In the library. You said that you and the others were reminiscing. About Edward, I assume. Did it help to recall happier times?”
