‘Better, sweetheart?’ Will murmured in her ear.
‘Much, thank you, Will. You keep me safe.’
‘Always,’ he said and his arms tightened around her.
* * *
‘I will sleep in the dressing room,’ Will said from the open door of the bedroom as the clocks in their suite struck nine. ‘You should be asleep.’ Julia was pale against the heaped pillows. He wished he had her home again where she would feel safer as she recovered from her ordeal and not here, in a strange place.
‘I have slept, for hours,’ Julia protested. And she did look better, despite the pallor. ‘That hot bath was like taking laudanum! Come to bed, Will.’
‘You are still nervous? Then of course I will sleep with you.’ He closed the door behind him and watched her carefully as he shed coat and waistcoat. No wonder she was so reluctant to go into the neighbouring towns for anything but the most essential shopping if crowds made her so frightened. Some people had a fear of them, he knew. It was like the fear of heights, or spiders—not something that seemed to be rational to anyone else, but very real to the sufferer. And a public hanging was probably, short of a riot, the most frightening mob to find oneself in.
‘I wish you had told me how you felt about crowds,’ he said as he pulled off his neck cloth.
‘It was so irrational, I thought you would think me foolish,’ she said, not meeting his eyes. ‘I pride myself on common sense and keeping calm and then to experience such panic when no one means me any harm...’
Her voice trailed away and he bit his tongue on the reproach that she had kept this a secret from him. It was not a rational fear, he reminded himself, so perhaps she found it harder to confide about it.
‘We all fear something,’ Will said and sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots.
‘What do you fear?’ Julia curled round on the pillows and watched him as he tossed his stockings aside. ‘I did not think you were afraid of anything.’
‘Lies and powerlessness,’ he said instantly, then stopped undressing to think about what he had said. ‘Not seeing the whole picture when there is something to confront, so all the time you think there is something worse lying in wait. I think that was what was so dreadful with my parents when I was growing up: I did not know what was wrong, no one would tell me the truth and admit that the marriage was a sham. I was expected to act as though we were a happy family and nothing was amiss, yet I sensed the world as I knew it was all falling apart.
‘And then at first when I was ill, no one would tell me the truth—or what they thought was the truth. In my heart I believed I was dying and yet I could not face it, deal with it, because the doctors insisted I would be cured in the end. I have no idea why they wouldn’t tell me. Perhaps they thought I couldn’t cope with it, or perhaps they thought I was a better source of income if I was hoping for a cure! It took three months before they would admit the truth, that they were certain there was no hope.’
‘Was it any easier after that?’ Julia asked. She reached out a hand and laid it over his on the bedspread. She did nothing except press lightly, but it was curiously comforting. Will curled his fingers into hers and dug deeper into his feelings than he had for a long time.
‘It made the dying easier,’ he confessed with a grimace. ‘Which seems strange, but I suppose I had suspected the worst for so long it was a relief to know what I was dealing with. But then the powerlessness over King’s Acre, that was terrifying.’
Julia’s fingers closed tighter. ‘You are in control of all of it now.’
All of it except my wife, Will thought wryly. He honestly had no idea what Julia would do next or how she would react to what he said or did. Most of the time that was refreshing, but there was still some secret, deep down, he was certain of it and it nagged at the foundation of trust that he thought they were building together. At least he understood her reluctance to leave the estate now if crowds brought on attacks of panic.
She began to stroke the inside of his wrist and Will lost the thread of his thoughts as desire began to build, hot and heavy. He tugged his shirt over his head and let Julia pull him back on to the bed. ‘Nothing is going to get you in here,’ he protested.
‘I am not afraid,’ Julia murmured, running her nails lightly down his torso. ‘I am...’ She blushed.
‘Lustful?’ Will suggested as he rolled over on his back and began to unfasten his breeches. It was not the easiest thing to do flat on his back, with an erection and with a wanton wife crawling over him.
‘Will! Amorous sounds better.’
‘Both of them sound good to me,’ he growled as he kicked his legs free and sent the breeches flying. Julia gave a soft huff of laughter as he rolled over on top of her, but as she lay looking up at him the laughter ebbed away, leaving her serious. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what was wrong when she pulled his head down and lifted herself to kiss him.
It was the first time she had ever taken the initiative in their lovemaking. Before she had been responsive and willing to follow wherever he led, but he sensed that this exploration with soft lips and delicate strokes of her tongue was different.
Her hands drifted down his rib-cage, down his flanks, stroking in fluttering caresses that made him want to purr like a big cat and then to plunge into her to assuage the ache that gripped him. He was almost impossibly hard, aroused, simply by a sweet kiss and gentle hands. This was some enchantment she was weaving, it had to be.
Without freeing his mouth she wriggled, almost tipping him over the edge beyond control, then wrapped her legs around his hips so he was cradled against the hot, wet centre of her. Will tried counting backwards, then doing it in Arabic. He was going to lose his grip any moment and behave like an animal and it was obvious from Julia’s gentle, languid movements that was not what she wanted.
It was also obvious she had no idea whatsoever that she was driving him to the brink, he thought in despair as she fastened her teeth on his earlobe with a delicate nip.
Then she wriggled again, and tilted her pelvis and he realised through the fog of desire that she knew exactly what she was doing. They were positioned perfectly for her to arch up and take him into her in a smooth, seductive glide that had him gasping for mercy until, somehow, he wrenched some self-control back.
And then he found that he could slow down, be as gentle as she was, make this exquisite pleasure last and last until there was nothing in the world except for their ragged breathing and the scent of arousal and the sound of their bodies moving against each other.
‘Will.’ She shuddered under him, around him, the force of her orgasm caressing him until he was falling with her. He knew he called her name, knew he found her mouth and stifled both their cries with his kisses, and then the world was still again.
‘Will.’ Seconds later, hours later? He had no idea. All he knew was that was the most perfect physical experience he had ever had in his life and that, somehow, it went beyond the physical into emotion. He opened his eyes and raised his head from the softness of Julia’s breast and saw her eyes were wide and dark as her mouth trembled into a smile. ‘I love you.’
It took a long moment before her words sank in. ‘Julia—’ He did not know what to say, what to feel.
‘It is all right,’ she murmured, lifting one hand to brush his hair back from his face. ‘You don’t have to say it too. I know you don’t love me, but I had to tell you. How could I keep that a secret from you?’
He was squashing her, Will thought distractedly. But if he rolled off her she would think he was avoiding meeting her eyes. Those painfully clear, honest eyes. Will took more weight on his elbows and sought for the truth. ‘I don’t know about love,’ he