The earl secured the doors behind them with a simple large bolt and led the way to the cottage. He located a key that was uninventively hidden beneath a large plant pot. It turned easily in the lock and allowed them to enter. The oil lamp's light showed a moderately sized room with a closed range, rustic wooden table, chairs pleasantly cushioned, and a large fireplace. The fire was already arranged and ready to light, and there was a pile of cut dry firewood neatly stacked beside it.
Juliana helped the earl from his greatcoat and hung it from pegs on the back of the front door. She shucked out of her own coat and put it on another hook, leaving both their hats and riding gloves on a chair beside the door, to drip gently until they could be moved closer to a fire to dry.
She noticed the earl had placed his Manton beside the chair and moved hers beside it. The earl was lighting the fire, so she checked the range, finding it also ready for lighting. She found a tinderbox and carefully using a spill of wood, lit the kindling. It sparked immediately, and she blew on the flame to make sure the fire took. It was soon burning brightly, and she shut the stove’s door and left it to warm.
She noticed a door to the right of the stove and opened it. It revealed a small room almost filled by a large bed already made up with a patchwork quilt, sheets, and pillows. It was very inviting. The earl naked within those sheets, staring into her eyes and stroking her hair, flashed through her mind. She reddened, realizing her vision had not provided a nightdress for herself, and that she had been as naked as her employer.
Then as the fire the earl had lit blazed to life, he began to strip off his sodden clothes, draping them precisely over a wooden chair to dry in front of the fire. Juliana gulped and smothered a gasp as he removed his jacket, waistcoat, and shirt. He sat and pulled off his own boots and wet stockings, then began to undo the fall at the front of his breeches.
Dear heavens, he plans to get naked!
“My lord,” she squeaked, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Had he heard the slip in her tone? She hoped the sleeting rain had covered her cry.
He glanced over at Juliana. “Come on, get out of those wet things and get dried, or you will catch your death of cold,” he said, staring at her with a glint in his eyes, daring her to follow through.
“No, I will be fine, I think we should return to the main house. I am tougher than I look and will survive a little rain…” she said, but her cheeks were heating, and she could see amusement in the earl’s eyes.
His hands went to the front of his riding breeches.
“Your Lordship, do not remove those breeches!”
He froze, his gaze gleaming. “Why not?”
“There is a rat, my lord.” She made a measurement with her hands. “He was behind you just now.”
The earl grinned. “And he was that big, hmm?”
“Yes, and surely should you remove your breeches, he…well, he might attack your backside.”
For a moment, the earl just stared at her, then his shoulder shook with laughter, which rolled from him rich and warm. The sound of it did fluttery things to her heart.
Lips still quirking, he asked, “Tell me, my good lad, have you ever been naked before a man or a woman?”
She gasped. “I…my lord! It is not fitting to ask me that!”
He took a few steps toward her. “And why is that so?”
“I…no, I am…you are being a right rogue!”
Provoking amusement lit in his eyes. “I’ve never been accused of that before, and most certainly did not expect it from a fellow man. How intriguingly novel.”
There was a question in his voice, a challenge, but Juliana was unsure how to respond.
“You will catch a cold if you do not remove more of those sodden clothes. At least remove your waistcoat, jacket, and stockings. As men together…it is entirely proper for us to remain in our trousers.”
Her heart pounding a fierce beat, she stared at him mutely, sodden, and frankly miserable.
“I cannot,” she whispered, an intolerable ache in her throat.
This time his smile was gentle, almost understanding. Yet, she detected tension in his frame. “I suppose I had better redress then and ride back to the house to have a carriage fetched for you?”
“In this storm?”
“Yes. I cannot have you fall ill.”
She could tell that he was most sincere in that regard, and this went far beyond him rattling her composure.
He retrieved his wet clothes and put them back on.
And she could only stand there, staring at him, wondering if she should just blurt out the truth.
He is kind and thoughtful. Perhaps he might listen to her plight, maybe he might forgive her deception.
Or perhaps he’ll have me arrested!
Chapter 8
Wentworth was losing perspective. Now was not the time to be thinking about how pretty and desirable Juliana appeared. Not when they were alone in a secluded cottage with little to no chance of discovery. The possibilities for debauchery were wicked, scandalous, and endless.
He was not a bloody rogue who would take advantage of a lady’s heated and unquestionably aroused state. Wentworth felt shaken on a level he’d never experienced before. “I must leave,” he said. “I’ll be back.”
A gusty sigh of relief left Julian, and she moved toward the rifles in the corner of the door. “I’ll come with you.”
“No!”
Julian’s eyes widened at his vehemence, and a frown creased her forehead.
“It is raining fiercely. To be out in this deluge, you might catch your death of cold. I’ll come back for you with an umbrella or send a footman.”
“If it is not wise for me to be out in the rain, my lord, it cannot be safe for you either!”
“I believe my constitution is sturdier. A stiff wind would blow you over,” he muttered crossly.
He made to walk away, and a hand grabbed him, the force enough to make him turn around.
“You are leaving without your coat and hat!”
“Hang the coat and hat,” he growled.
Julian looked a little anxiously at him. “Do not dare leave me in this creepy cottage alone!”
“By God, are you afraid of the damn rain?”
“No…just a bit of the thunder, and you must admit the sky has darkened rather ominously. We are surrounded by miles of woods, and those branches are swaying rather furiously in the wind. And look at the brambles scraping the windows. They are like long gnarled fingers belonging to something…I don’t know, ghost-like.”
“You are entirely serious,” Wentworth said, considerably astonished.
At least Julian had the grace to look sheepish.
“You are a grown man.” Woman…you are a woman, and I can tell because of how you are staring at me. With such heat and want…yet, you are also skittish. “I must leave,” he said tightly.
“Stay with me,” she whispered, those lovely lavender eyes rounded and imploring.
“No.”
Now a scowl settled on her face. “Why not?”
“Because…” Wentworth swallowed, or tried to past the lump of raw need rising in his throat.
“Because?”
“Because of this.” And he hauled her against his body and took her mouth in a burning kiss.