That Perfect Someone
Page 28

His brow formed a slight frown. “I probably shouldn"t have mentioned that, so keep it to yourself. I do not want Father to know where to find me when this is over.”
“You don"t think he"s going to ask where you"ve been all these years?”
“Certainly he will, but I wouldn"t feel obliged to answer him even if I was delightfully in love as we"re pretending to be.”
Delightfully? What an odd way to put it. It almost sounded as if he wanted to be in love.
Actually, he was in love with someone else, or had that just been a silly infatuation with a beautiful, unavailable woman? Actually, the adventure-loving, charming Richard that Gabrielle had described was the kind of man who probably fell in love easily with a lot of women. She didn"t like that thought any better.
“What about you?” Richard asked. “What are you going to do when this is over?” She raised a brow at him. “You heard me discuss it with my father. I"m going to get on with my life—finally.”
“Which means?”
“Marriage. Children. I"m going to find a man who"s perfect for me, a man like Harry Roberts.”
Richard abruptly stopped walking and frowned. “You"ve already picked out your husband?” She chuckled at him. “Harry"s my best friend"s husband. I was just making the comparison because he"s quite perfect. He adores his wife, Carol. He doesn"t treat her like a glorified housekeeper, as so many man treat their wives. It never comes down to „do it my way or else"
in their marriage. He always takes Carol"s opinions seriously. They compromise, sort of like partners in a business relationship—actually, that describes it very well. Believe it or not, he treats her like an equal partner, and she loves him all the more because of it. And that"s what I want, a man I can share my life with, not one who tries to dictate how I live it. And of course he can"t object that I"m going to continue to help manage the family businesses.”
“That"s a tall order,” Richard said, but he was grinning again as he continued their walk.
“Considering how wealthy your family is, you aren"t worried about fortune hunters telling you exactly what you want to hear, then reverting to form right after the wedding?” She stiffened. “You think my family"s wealth is the only thing a man will find attractive about me?”
“No indeed, but it"s still something you"ll need to consider.” She"d never get married if she had to take that into account, too. How many men out there were like Richard, who didn"t give a damn about her money? She was surprised he didn"t point that out, too.
How quickly a mood could turn sour. She was about to turn around and head back to the house, preferably alone, when he said, “Watch your step, Jewels. This slope has a few uneven spots.”
She gritted out, “Would you stop calling me that tacky name you gave me when we were children?”
He didn"t take note of her harsh tone, didn"t even glance down at her. He was staring reflectively at the lake as he said, “A ship I sailed on was named The Crusty Jewel. You can"t imagine how much I laughed every time that name made me think of you. No, Jewels it is and Jewels it will always be. Admit it, it"s a pretty name—at least when it"s not modified by the word crusty.”
She"d admit nothing of the sort. But she did realize she"d just got testy for no good reason.
For the sake of their joint effort, she changed the subject. “The lake is man-made, isn"t it?
The slope might be gradual on this side of it, but it"s rather steep on the other sides, making it appear unnatural.”
“Yes, the first Earl of Manford started digging the lake in the early 1700s.”
“Ah, a time that favored long hair like yours. Do you wish you"d been born back then? Your hair is as long as mine, you know.”
He chuckled at her. “No, it isn"t.”
“It is.”
“Let yours down and show me.”
She took out a few pins, shook her head, and her coiffure fell, her hair tumbling down her back. She then turned around to show him, but glanced back at him over her shoulder. “What do you think?”
“Damn” was all he said before he whipped her around and kissed her.
His kiss had no gentle persuasion, was instantaneously passionate, and she was easily swept away by it. So unexpected, and all the more potent for the suddenness of it. God, he tasted so good, he dazzled her senses to new realms of temptation. She couldn"t get near him without feeling spurts of unusual giddiness. Just the sight of him did that to her. But being pressed to his hard body magnified that tenfold, a burst of sensual pleasure that spread from her core, heightening all her senses.
Abruptly he stopped kissing her. Apparently Richard had enough presence of mind not to tumble them right there on the lawn. She didn"t. She wouldn"t have protested at all, couldn"t really think yet, could only pant and regret that those wonderful feelings were cooling down.
He was no longer pressing her tightly against him, not that that changed their position much when she was still holding on to him. But his hands came to her shoulders, his forehead touched hers, his warm breath steamed against her face.
“Don"t move for a moment,” he said in a whisper.
A laugh almost bubbled out of her. She didn"t think she could move if she tried.
“Did you do that deliberately?” he added.
She didn"t know what he was talking about, but his tone had just turned accusing, which made her stiffen. “I don"t know what you mean.”
He sighed. “No, I suppose you don"t.”
One of his hands moved down her arm so slowly it was a caress that actually made her shiver and think they weren"t quite done with kissing yet. But he was only after her bonnet, which he removed from her wrist—and set on her head rather roughly.
“You"ve got beautiful hair, Jewels. Keep it contained,” he said a little too sharply.
She gasped and tried to pull away from him, but his hands were back on her shoulders and he wasn"t letting go. “Don"t get huffy on me, we"re not done with this demonstration. The tyrant is watching us from the house. So be still and put your hand on my cheek.” She did, though she replied tartly, “Or he"s not watching a"tall.”
“I brought us to the back lawn because it can be viewed from more rooms, including his bedroom, than can the front of the house. He"s watching. I can almost feel the malevolence coming from that house.”
“You"re probably feeling what"s coming from me!”
He glanced down at her, then started to laugh. That could so easily have set off her temper to explosive levels. But she realized he wasn"t mocking her, he was genuinely amused, and it wasn"t hard to figure out why. Here he was making every effort to help her rid their lives of the marriage contract, and she was being difficult, argumentative, and defensive. When they"d been doing so well at getting along!
“Maybe we should talk about the lake again,” she offered sheepishly.
“Good God, yes! Let"s do that.”
He was chuckling as he took her arm and led her down the gentle slope to the water"s edge.
It wasn"t big enough to be considered a lake, it was really a large pond, but she knew that it was deep, even near the edges, which was probably why the Allens called it a lake.
“The aristocracy was quite frivolous back then in their clothes, their wigs, in their spending,” he told her. “They say the first Earl of Manford employed an entire village to dig this hole. When he ran out of funds, it was left unfinished for years, a great gaping hole in the backyard. Unfortunately, rain never collected there, it just seeped into the ground. Snow sometimes filled it in the winter, but once it melted, it never succeeded in leaving more"n a mud puddle come spring that would dry up by summer.”
“So who finished it?”
“The next earl married well, but his wife wasn"t a generous person. Whenever she replaced her wardrobe, which was a yearly event, of course, she wouldn"t donate her old clothes to the poor, she simply had them thrown away. And she decided her first year at Willow Woods that the huge, ugly hole in the backyard would serve very well as a place where she could discard things, including her clothes. Of course, the earl"s gardeners couldn"t allow a rubbish heap on the property. The solution was to cover the pile of clothes with dirt. But servants, being naturally efficient since the sooner they got a job done the more time they would have to themselves, spread out that enormous pile of clothes so only a few shovelfuls of dirt here and there were needed to cover them sufficiently. Come springtime that year, the muddy puddle formed as usual, but this time, it stayed there and got deeper whenever it rained.” Julia laughed. “So without figuring out how to finish that lake properly, they did it by accident?”
“Exactly. A generation later fish were brought in to spawn and the little dock was built.” They were standing on that dock now. Julia impulsively confided, “I was very jealous of your fishing prowess. My mother didn"t think it was an appropriate activity for me, so of course that made me want to try it even more. My father finally gave in and took me fishing without her knowing. It was our little secret. But seeing those poor worms stuck on hooks that day quite cured me of my infatuation with fishing.”
He chuckled. “Did you ever learn to swim?”
She glanced at him sharply. How unkind of him to mention that, and yet, no, he didn"t seem to be gloating over his adolescent attempt to drown her. He astonished her when he added,
“You scared the hell out of me that day. You were only supposed to get wet, not sink.” Her eyes flared wide. You were only supposed to get wet, not sink? How many other things had she been wrong about back then? Should she give him her interpretation of his actions that day?
She turned to him, but he"d moved behind her, rather close. She had to crane her neck to look up at him, only to find that teasing glint in his eyes, and then she was suddenly in the water.
She came up sputtering, her skirt bubbling around her waist, her loose hair covering her eyes so she couldn"t see. He"d pushed her in the lake? Again?! She shoved her hair back, but before she could glare at him, a large wave splashed over her face as Richard landed next to her.
“Looks like you can swim well enough now,” she heard him say. “So much for another valiant rescue.”
He was treading water, laughing. She splashed at him. “You call that valiant?”
“You ruined it by not being in peril,” he complained, but he was grinning widely at her. “Do I have to show you how it"s done?”
She shrieked when he dove under the water, and sure enough, he pulled her down with him.
But just as quickly he released her and she came easily to the surface again to find him still grinning at her.
“Nice legs you"ve got, Jewels.” He stuck his head in the water to ogle them.
Her skirt no longer bubbled up around her now, but she still couldn"t get it to stay down and cover her legs. Her emotions were bubbling up, though. She really couldn"t help laughing at his antics.
Richard"s head came back up. He was actually tall enough to stand in that one spot with his head out of the water. She tried it, but couldn"t quite reach the bottom, so she was completely submerged again.
“Are you in peril yet?” he asked when she bobbed back to the surface.
“No.”
“Let me try harder.”
“Don"t!” was all she got out before she went down once again.
She realized she was not going to win this game, but that didn"t bother her in the least. It didn"t stop her from trying, though, and while she was still under the water, she twisted around and used Richard"s chest as a springboard to push him back and swim away from him. And so they spent the rest of the afternoon, playing like children, frolicking in the cool, clear water, laughing with each other.
As they should have done when they were children… .
Chapter Thirty-seven
THE AFTERNOON HAD BEEN so enjoyable, even though it was just a demonstration for Richard"s father to show how well they got along now. At the time, Julia had been having too much fun to even think of that. But pretending from afar was much easier than pretending while they were in the same room with the earl, so she had been dreading going down to dinner that night.
She dressed a bit formally in a cream-colored evening gown, high-necked and adorned at the cuffs and neck with tiny white pearls. After all, she was dining with an earl, and she distinctly recalled that he had always dressed elegantly for the dinners he"d shared with her parents.
Richard walked over to a chair at one end of the long table, likely as far as he could get from the earl"s usual seat. He moved one of the side chairs even closer to his and sat her next to him.
He couldn"t have been more casually attired that evening, in his white, open-necked, flowing, long-sleeved shirt and black trousers. But his father didn"t show up to remark on it.
When the footmen began serving them, she and Richard realized he might not be joining them at all. One servant confirmed that.
“Indisposed, m"lord,” said the man who was filling Richard"s glass with wine, nodding toward the empty seat at the head of the long table.
Julia relaxed immediately. Richard didn"t, probably because the footmen didn"t actually leave the room, two of them remaining on duty just inside the doorway. This was a normal practice in most households that employed a great many servants. But in a household so short on servants? So she kept in mind that she and Richard were likely being spied upon. If that was so, they really needed to appear more relaxed with each other and not eat dinner in silence.