Conquering a Viscount

CONQUERING A VISCOUNT

Copyrighted 2012 -Kimberly Gay Barnes

All rights reserved.  Except for use in any review, this reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission from Kindle Select Publishing.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, character, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual person living or dead is a coincidence. 

To my wonderful family, without you I would be nothing.
-Macy Ann Barnes

Chapter 1

Centre
London
,
England
1814

             
Juliet Wells stopped struggling and stared at the ground.  How in the devil was she going to get down from her window without anyone seeing her
?  The middle child of the late
Duke and
Dowager
Duchess of Norchess, Juliet had been sneaking out of the
London
town house window of her bedroom for as long as she could remember.  Of all these times, never, not once had her dress ever been caught on anything when she made her escape.

             
  Today was different.  She was dangling outside of her bedroom window; her dress ripped and hung on something in the window frame.  She could feel a cool breeze on t
he back of her legs and knew
her backside was exposed.  She tried to figure out how long she had been hanging, a half-hour?  Well, that meant she had another half hour before someone noticed her absence.

 
             
Her brother,
Clinton Wells,
the Duke of Norchess
had
recently wed Lady Emily Moncrief.  Her mother was so wrapped up in the wedding affairs it had taken her focus off Juliet for a while.  She usually snuck out for an hour at a time, and her mother was oblivious to it.  She began wiggling her body again in a back and forth motion trying to tear the fabric of her dress when she heard her mother calling her name in the bedroom.  She held her breath and ceased to move.  She let out her breath in a whoosh when she heard her mother close the door; she was safe for the moment.

             
She resumed her struggling for a few more minutes, and then paused as a scent caught her nose.  Someone was smoking.  And it smelled as if they were very close to her.  She tried to peer through the trees to discern whom the figure was standing at the end of the house.

             
Bloody hell, of all the rotten luck!  It was
Jonathan
Radcliff
e, Viscount
Cornwell, her brother’s lifelong friend, and the love of her life.  He was ignorant to the fact he had Juliet’s affection, and so far she had not been able to make him see her as anything other than a kid sister.  She was ten years old when she started having feelings for him.

             
  She loved his thick dark hair and his green eyes that always seem to have laughter in them.  He was tall, but not as tall as her brother
Clinton
was.  He was well built and his legs were splendid in the right pair of breeches.  She had imagined herself in his arms on more than one occasion.  Although she was not exactly sure of what went on between a man and woman, she knew she wanted him to be the one to teach her.

             
   If he caught her dangling with her bloomers showing he would chastise her like a child.  She went very still.  Hopefully he would finish his smoke and go back into the house so she could get herself down without
any embar
rassment.  Her eyes narrowed into slits as she watched one of the kitchen maids come from the house and wrap her arms around his waist in a familiar fashion.

             
He said something to her, to which she giggled.  He patted her on the behind and sent her scurrying off.  That despicable cur, their help was not even safe around the man.  Why did she have to be cursed with a love for this man?  She made a vow to herself at that moment.  She would not chase after him anymore.  She would suck up her feelings and allow her mother to arrange her courtships so she could make a suitable marriage. God help the poor girl who was stuck with
Jonathan
Radcliff
e
as a husband.

             
Jonathan
Radcliff
e, Viscount
Cornwell, took a long drag off of the cigarette he was enjoying and wondered how long he should let Juliet hang from her window.  He had seen her almost immediately and decided to take his time helping her.  She had been unusually hateful to him over the past week.  He told himself that he was scaring off her suitors, as any older brother should while
Clinton
had been occupied with his new wife, not because he was jealous. 

             
From the corner of his eye, he took in the creamy expanse of her legs and allowed himself to admire the curve of her buttocks.  She had really grown into a lovely woman.  He felt himself become aroused and cursed.  Damn it, he was not supposed to have an attraction to her. 

             
He had only begun to notice her as a woman at
Clinton
’s wedding.  She was st
unning in her gown of deep blue
and her dark hair styled in curls that drifted down to the creamy indention of her breasts.  He felt arms circle him from behind and turned to find a kitchen maid by the name of Annie rubbing her body seductively against him.  She cupped his arousal and purred.  “Is that for me?”

He smiled at her.  “Will you ever cease your relentless hounding of me?” 

She laughed. “Only after you give in and give me a taste.”

             
He patted her on her rear end and motioned for her to go about her business.  Was he imagining it or was he feeling daggers shot at him from the trees.  He sighed and turned towards her.  “Would you like help Button? Or are you going to hang there all day?”  He thought he heard a very un-lady like curse.

“You insufferable cad!” she seethed.  “How long have you known I was here?”

He threw his cigarette to the ground and s
tom
ped it.  “Oh, just long enough to take in the sight of your beautiful legs and wonderfully round backside.”  Why had he said that?  He cursed inwardly.  He stepped forward and tugged her dress until the fabric gave and she landed in a heap on the ground.  She stood up in a huff.  She was stunning even in her anger and torn dress. 

             
She was all of five feet tall but that did not stop her from kicking him as hard as she could in the shin.  “Ow! What the hell did you do that for Button?” he groaned as he rubbed his shin. 

“Don’t call me that!”  She struggled to fix her dress so she might make it into the house and back into her room unnoticed.   “I can’t believe you would leave me hanging there just to make sport of me!”  She was thoroughly angry.  He did not care for her feelings at all.  She straightened her shoulders and prepared to walk around him.  He stopped her and turned her around.  Her dress hung in her bloomers.  She felt his touch at the top of her waist and it was like molten fire.  She heard his intake of breath, and knew he was aware of the sexual tension vibrating from within her. 

             
He drew her closer to him and his mouth was dangerously close and hot on her neck.  His hand lingered and she thought he might caress her before she heard him curse and snatch her dress lose and cove
r her.  She spun around to face
him
;
her chest heaving.  She wanted this man.  And from the look in his eyes, she knew he was finally aware of it.

 
             
He leaned in as if to kiss her, but drew back almost as quickly.  She ran past him and flew up the side stairs into the house.  She did not stop running until she was safely behind her closed bedroom door. 
Jonathan
ran his hand threw his hair and gritted his teeth in frustration.  Damn his traitorous body, he was rock hard and throbbing with need.  He could not deny it anymore.  He wanted Juliet Wells and wanted her badly. 

             
  This was a dilemma. 
Clinton
was his best friend.  If he ravished
Clinton
’s sister he could more than likely kiss his friendship goodbye.  He wanted no wife at this time, and he would have to marry Juliet if he seduced her.  Maybe it was time he went back to his home and start handling his affairs; take reign over his responsibilities before a spunky petite brunette made him throw all caution to the wind.

             
He turned and made his way back to the house.  He would just tell
Clinton
that with him married now, it was time for him to make his departure.  He had reached the front stairs to the townhouse when a scream sounded from the second floor.  He took off running in the direction of which the sound came from.  His first thoughts flew to Juliet.  He had to make sure she was safe.  He nearly collided with her as they reached the stairwell at the same time. 

             
“What is going on? I heard screaming!” she asked him.

He pushed her to the side.  “Stay here.” He ordered. 
Clinton
came barreling down the hall.  They each took the stairs running.  They found a pale faced Emily with her hands to her mouth. She was staring in horror at the nursemaid Mary, lying in a pool of blood.

             
Clinton
rushed forward and wrapped his wife into his arms.  He checked her over from head to toe while
Jonathan
reached down to the Mary and felt to see if her chest moved with any life.  She was breathing, but it was shallow.  “We need a doctor quickly.” He told
Clinton
grimly.  Emily nodded her head and took off down the stairs.

             
Jonathan
stood up and followed
Clinton
into little Olivia’s room.  The room was in shambles.  You could tell a struggle had taken place.  In the center of the room sat one lone child size shoe. 
Clinton
walked over to it and picked it up. 
Jonathan
could tell he was in shock, and was trying to come to terms with the fact that his sister was not in her room.