"Chalk it up to experience. I've been doing it since I was a boy." He put the trout in a basket, then picked up another rod, attached a fly to the line and held it out to Julia. "Your turn."
Together, they walked to the water's edge, then standing close behind her, his arms reached around her and, in unison, they went through the motion of casting, reeling in, and casting again.
Julia felt breathless as their bodies touched intimately. His potent male presence was almost overpowering. She glanced up over her shoulder and glimpsed a taut expression of hunger on his face.
Reluctantly, he removed his hands from her and stepped back. "You have a go."
With determined bravado, Julia cast the line into the water, but instead of reeling it in for another try, she let her hands fall. Almost immediately, she got a bite and the fish darted downstream, running out the entire line. She tried to reel it in, but the fish had the advantage. "Oh, hellfire!"
"It must be a carp-- a big one," Nick shouted. He reached for her, but he was a fraction of a second too late, and it pulled Julia into the water. "Let go."
Determined not to lose his fishing rod, she hung on and splashed through the stream until she caught up with the carp. It was flopping about between her feet and she suddenly feared it would hurt itself. She reached down with resolve and took the hook from its mouth. As she watched it swim away, she laughed with relief.
Nicholas watched her performance, helpless with laughter.
She waded back to him, and he reached out his hand to pull her up onto the bank. She gave him back his words: "To have fun fishing, you have to be prepared to get wet."
Chapter Ten
Julia looked down at her wet petticoat clinging to her legs. "The sun will soon dry me. I love summer. I always feel so cold in the wintertime."
How I'd love to wrap you in furs and roll you in the snow. Nicholas pushed away the erotic thoughts and curbed his desire. "Why don't we eat our picnic lunch? When you're dry, I'll give you another lesson if you're game."
"I'm game." For any lesson you'd like to teach me, Lord Royston. Julia sat down on the log they'd used when they'd visited the stream before, and spread the folds of her petticoat to dry, while Nicholas opened his saddle bags and took out the picnic lunch.
He unfolded two linen cloths. One held a roasted partridge and the other a braised quail. There was a pot of honey for dipping and a jar of pickled walnuts. For dessert he had brought apples and figs along with a wineskin of sweet Madeira.
Julia laughed with delight. "Food to tempt the Devil himself."
"Help yourself," he invited.
Her glance moved from his eyes, to his mouth, to his wide shoulders, and back to his mouth. "Oh, I intend to," she said suggestively. She tore a leg from the partridge, dipped it into the honey and devoured it. Then she licked her fingers.
Nicholas chose the quail.
"What does quail taste like?"
"It's quite mild and takes on the flavor of whatever it's braised in; brandy I believe. Quail is plump breasted for the size of the bird."
"And are you a breast man?" Julia teased.
His gaze roamed over her pert breasts, barely concealed by her petticoat. "Absolutely, though legs also tempt me." He broke off a thigh and held it out. "Try it."
She opened her mouth and let him feed her. "I can taste the brandy." She licked her lips.
"Let me do that," he murmured huskily. He leaned over and stole a kiss then the tip of his tongue licked her lips.
Against his mouth she whispered, "Perhaps I prefer the partridge. What do you think?" She dipped a piece in the honey and relished it.
"It will take several tastes before I can decide."
Between kisses they managed to consume the game. Then they started on the pickled walnuts. "Sweet and tart, an irresistible combination."
Julia bit into a fig. "These are reputed to be an aphrodisiac."
"Why do you think I chose them?" he teased.
She eyed the wineskin with speculation. "I'm not sure how to go about it."
"I didn't think you were. That's why I brought it. It will give me pleasure to teach you." He lifted the wineskin, and with perfect aim he directed a stream of wine into his open mouth.
She held out her hands. "Likely my aim won't be as good as yours, but I'll give it a try."
"I'll hold it. All you have to do is open your mouth."
Like a trusting baby bird, Julia did as he bid and, miraculously, his aim was perfect. She swallowed then began to laugh. "The wine is deliciously sweet."
"It's Madeira. Sweet and potent... rather like you."
She opened her mouth again, and he obliged. "You have perfect aim, Nicholas."
"There's a knack to it."
"I imagine there's a knack to everything, but someone has to teach you the secret." Her words were ripe with innuendo
He watched avidly as she licked her lips. "You're an apt pupil."
"When we finished lunch, you offered to give me another lesson."
"Are you sure you want to fish?" he asked reluctantly.
The expression on her face was one of exaggerated disappointment. "Oh, Nicholas, I didn't think you meant a fishing lesson."
They both laughed at the blatant lie. "You play the role of temptress exceedingly well."
Julia looked inordinately pleased. "I need to learn about passion. Will you teach me, Nick?"
He brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. "Sweetheart, I don't think it can be taught. Either you experience passion or you don't."
"Oh, hellfire, see how ignorant I am?"
"Innocent, not ignorant, Julia."
"Yes, that's it. I have no firsthand sexual experience whatever."
"When you do, I have no doubt that you will experience passion, since you feel passionate about most things like food, riding, nature, and animals."
"I'm ready to find out. I need a secret lover. Will you make love to me, Nicholas?"
He knelt in the lush grass and pulled her down to him. "You don't need a lover, what you need is a husband."
"I told you I'm not interested in marriage!"
"Such nonsense. Of course you'll marry. I won't become your lover, but I will woo you. I think you're ready to be awakened and learn something about foreplay."
"That sounds perfect," she said breathlessly.
He laid her back in the grass and unfastened the ribbons on the bodice of her shift. "The sun has dried your petticoat."
"Yes, but my feet are still wet."
"Why didn't you remove your stockings?"
"I was hoping you would take them off," she whispered.
She drew in a swift breath as his hands reached up inside her petticoat. His palms stroked up her legs and when his fingers reached the bare flesh where her stockings ended, she moaned softly. He removed her garters then gently peeled the wet stockings from her legs. He lifted her bare foot to his mouth and kissed her instep.
Her violet eyes shone with excitement. "A very pretty gesture. Is that part of foreplay?"
"It's part of my foreplay. Every part of you from head to foot deserves my special attention." His hands moved up to her hair, and he threaded his fingers through her dark curls. "The unusual color of your eyes fascinates me." He kissed her temple, his lips brushed along her cheekbone then he took possession of her mouth and kissed her deeply.
He traced her delicate collarbone with his fingertips then his hand delved inside her petticoat and he cupped her soft, full breast with his palm. He brushed his thumb across her nipple until it became erect then he bent his head and took the tiny jewel into his mouth. When he tongued and sucked on it, he felt her shiver with silken torment.
Julia reached out and unfastened the buttons on his fine linen shirt then she caressed his muscled chest that was covered by a dark pelt of hair. When his nipples spiked, she laughed and knew he was becoming aroused, just as she was. "Take off your shirt; I want to experience what it feels like to have my breasts pressed against your
chest."
Nick removed his shirt and came over her in the dominant position, he pulled down her petticoat, baring her breasts then pressed her close against him in an intimate embrace. "You are so lovely, you take my breath away."
She closed her eyes so that her other senses became heightened. His male scent enveloped her, his touch and taste intoxicated her. As he molded his mouth to hers, she clung to him, responding with fire.
He knew he could arouse her to the point where she would willingly lie naked in the grass with him, but Nicholas did not want a quick tumble. He realized he wanted her on a more permanent basis. He rolled with her so that her breasts were cushioned on his broad chest. They spent the next hour kissing, whispering, touching, and laughing. He kept his rampant desire under tight control.
When the heat began to go out of the sunny afternoon, Nicholas sat up, folded her petticoat above her knees and pulled on her stockings then he slid her garters up her legs. He caressed the bare flesh above her garters on the inside of her thighs, and it made her gasp with pleasure. He cupped her mons and she writhed beneath his warm hand, loving his touch and longing for more.
Nicholas stood up, pulled Julia to her feet, and handed her her riding habit. "One more minute and I would have reached the point of no return."
Reluctantly, she put on her riding dress then pulled on her boots. "I had a lovely afternoon. Learning about passion is the most exciting thing I've ever done. Now I'll be able to write about how Bess Hardwick feels when William awakens her."
Nicholas put on his shirt then pulled on his riding boots. "Bess ended up marrying William Cavendish," he reminded her.
"Not until she was ripe with child."
"Well, we must make sure that doesn't happen to you, sweetheart."
"Do you want children?"
"Yes, I do. It's time I had a son and heir, but I'd also like a daughter. I long for a family more than anything." He lifted her into the saddle then mounted and they rode together back to Ashridge Place. At the stables he asked, "What will we do tomorrow?"
"I'm in a dilemma. I feel compelled to write, but I also want to be with you. We only have one week left before we have to return to London, and the days fly past so quickly."
"I have the answer. Write through the day then come to Royston Hall for Sunday dinner tomorrow night."
"Oh, yes, that's exactly what I'll do. How lovely that we think alike. Goodbye, Nick."
Julia retired early. She wanted to be alone so she could think about Nicholas. Inevitably, once she fell asleep, she began to dream about him. She was standing before a mirror and Lord Royston was behind her. She watched mesmerized as his hands began to slowly undress her. He unbuttoned her bodice and removed it then he lifted her hair and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. His mouth trailed kisses along her shoulder then he undid the ribbons on her petticoat and let it fall to her waist.
She watched as he cupped her breasts and weighed them on his palms. She reveled in his touch and her eyes avidly followed his hands as they removed the rest of her clothes, leaving her clad in only stockings and garters.
It was extremely arousing to realize that in this position his fingers were free to caress every inch of her flesh, and as his love-play progressed she was able to see the fierce desire on his face. "I want to experience passion. Make love to me, Nicholas."
He swept her up in his arms and carried her to bed.
With a start, Julia awoke and stared into the darkness. Her breasts ached and her body was filled with longing. "Damnation, why did I have to awaken before he made love to me?"
Chapter Eleven
In London, Claire Shelborne was doing her utmost to bring young Earl Henry up to the mark. She had quite set her mind on becoming the Countess of Fauconburg for obvious reasons and was elated that she would also be related to Lady Lavinia Spencer, if only distantly.
She invited him to dinner at Berkeley Square and banished Dottie upstairs to her own apartment. Claire did not realize that her mother much preferred spending the evening in her parlor, eavesdropping on her daughter and the chinless young noble.
Their dinner conversation was so banal it almost put Dottie to sleep, but later as they sat together on a love seat her ears pricked up when the topic turned to Ashridge Place.
"Claire, my dear, Lavinia tells me that you that you have a charming country estate in Hertfordshire, not too distant from Cambridge. I have such fond memories of my university days."
Your memories can't be too distant. You can't have been out of school more than a year, by the look of you, Dottie thought.
"Yes, Ashridge Place is a delightful country retreat when London gets too hot in August."
"Ashridge? Isn't that your mother's name? I thought your late husband left you the property."
"No, it was my father's estate, but it will come to me, of course."
In a pig's eye, it will come to you. Dottie was outraged. I'm leaving it to Julia.
"Your mother's getting along in years, I believe," Henry commiserated.
Dottie almost laughed aloud. I'm in my bloody dotage, you avaricious swine!
"The hunting is quite good in Hertfordshire," he hinted.
"Henry, I have an idea," Claire suggested. "Why don't we take a drive down there tomorrow? You could take your guns, if you like."
Why not? You could blow each other's brains out, except the targets are too small.
"That sounds top of the mark, Claire, my dear. Will we take your carriage?"
'Take' is your middle name by the sound of it. I almost feel sorry for Claire. Almost!
On Sunday, Julia was ensconced in the library, her creative juices flowing and her mind focused on Bess Hardwick's tribulations. She took a light lunch on a tray at her desk, so that her ideas would not be interrupted. Lost in her work, she was surprised when the library door opened and her mother stepped into the room. Luna immediately fled under the desk.
"Don't let me interrupt your studies, Julia." Claire waved her hand in the direction of someone behind her. "Dearest Henry, Earl of Fauconburg wanted to take a look at the place and do a spot of shooting. We'll just be here for the afternoon."
"How are you, Mother?"
"Absolutely blooming." She lowered her voice. "I can confidently declare that I have expectations." Before she closed the door she warned, "Don't encourage that cat, Julia. It should be kept in the stables, not the house. You know how I detest the creatures."
Julia bit her tongue. The feeling is mutual, I'm sure. I hope you leave before it's time for me to go to dinner tonight.
Claire took Henry's arm to guide him away. "My little girl never has her nose out of a book. She uses the library as a schoolroom." She gave Fauconburg a tour of the elegantly furnished mansion and felt extremely encouraged when he took a great deal of interest in everything from the plasterwork, to the crystal chandeliers, the parquet floors, and the mullioned windows.
"My dearest lady, Ashridge Place is far more impressive than I ever imagined."
"You are very kind to say so, Henry dearest, but I am aware it is in need of a man's hand."
"I hope the estate has a plentiful supply of game. I'd like to get some shooting in this afternoon. Will you be joining me, Claire?"
"I think not. While you're off on your hunt, it will give me a chance to take an inventory of the Ashridge treasures: the paintings, the silver, the Chinese porcelain and objets d'art."
"Yes, it is vitally important to list everything so you can ascertain its value."
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Lord Royston, but there's a fellow in our woods poaching." The gamekeeper was glad his lordship was in residence so he could witness the crime firsthand.
Royston's brows drew together. "Yes, I thought I heard a couple of shots."
"He's a brazen devil, Sir. Shooting game right out in the open as if he owns the place."
"I'll go and have a word with him." Nicholas donned his tweed jacket and took a gun down from its rack. Outside, he walked through the
park toward the woods where he spotted Fauconburg taking aim at a covey of partridge.
"Hello there, are you aware you are shooting on the Royston estate?"
"Hello, old chap," Fauconburg responded. "And who might you be?"
"Well, actually, I'm Lord Royston."
"Oh, I see!" Fauconburg broke into a chuckle. He hung his gun over his arm, and held out his hand. "I'm Henry Fauconburg, visiting Ashridge this afternoon. Sorry if I inadvertently strayed onto your property."
"No harm done." Nicholas shook his hand.
"I'm escorting Lady Claire Shelborne, these days. I'll likely be your neighbor in the not too distant future. I understand Dowager Ashridge is rather ancient. On borrowed time, so to speak."
Nicholas schooled his face to mask the alarm he felt at Fauconburg's words. Apart from not wanting the young fortune hunter as a neighbor, he was concerned for Dottie's well-being. The avaricious swine makes no bones about wishing her dead.
"The Ashridge property lies to the east of these woods." Nicholas gestured with his hand. "Good thing I spotted you. My gamekeeper tends to shoot at poachers."
"My dear fellow, I assure you I am no poacher!"
"Relieved to hear it." Nick gave him a tight smile. "As I said, no harm done. Good day." He waited until Fauconburg retreated to the adjoining estate before he returned to the hall.
Julia didn't emerge from the library until six o'clock, long after her mother and Fauconburg had left. She took a leisurely bath and decided to wear a new peach-colored, silk dress, which she knew was a flattering shade for a dark-haired female.
Her thoughts were filled with Nicholas. He made her pulses race, and she went weak at his faintest touch. He made no secret of the fact that he was deeply attracted to her and she finally acknowledged to herself that she was falling in love with him. For the first time in her life she found herself fantasizing about being a bride. She looked at her image in the mirror and mocked herself. "Aren't you the one who has no interest in marriage? How often have you said you would much prefer to become a writer and take lovers?"