Julia London 4 Book Bundle (19 page)

She was still beaming when she entered the terrace sitting room a little later with one particularly fat puppy close on her heels. Max’s face pinched with horror. “Oh my. Oh my,” he gasped.

“Max!” Lilliana exclaimed, giggling. “Isn’t he adorable?”

“Oh milady!” Max cried as the little fellow began to dig at the edge of the expensive Aubusson carpet. “Haven’t you ever noticed there are no dogs at Longbridge?” he asked frantically.

It had never occurred to her, but oddly enough, Lilliana realized she had not seen a single dog anywhere near Longbridge. She looked at Max in confusion. “I … I don’t understand.”

Max groaned.

“Please don’t tell me someone has an aversion to
dogs
,” she said, and laughed at the absurdity of it. But Max’s wince turned into a painful grimace. “Max? Why are there no dogs at Longbridge?”

“Dear me, it’s not my place, mum … but Mrs. Dismuke told me.”

“Told you what?”

“Everything,” he muttered miserably. “One of the grooms … oh, no matter how it came up. Mrs. Dismuke, she said Lady Kealing corresponded with her once upon a time, and I suppose it goes that when his lordship was a lad, he was quite fond of the hounds Lord Kealing kept. Had a right large kennel, and there was one pup, the runt, which the earl took a shining to. His lady mother wrote Mrs. Dismuke that he coddled that pup.”

Lilliana tried to imagine a young Adrian and his dog. “I should
hope
he would like dogs!” she said, and pressed her face into the side of the fat pup she had scooped into her arms.

Max sighed sadly and shook his head. “Terrible
story, really. Lord Kealing didn’t like the earl playing with those pups. Those were hunting dogs, and he told the earl he was not to play at the kennel. But Lady Kealing wrote that the runt was too small to keep up with the rest of them—had a good nose, that was all. He wasn’t suited for the hunt.”

“Then Adrian kept him as a pet?” Lilliana asked uncertainly.

Max shook his head. “Apparently Lord Kealing didn’t allow it. But it seems his lordship continued to go to the kennels, and took to letting the little fellow out of his pen. The two of them would explore the grounds. The pup
must
have had a good nose,” Max continued, his face going red, “because he sniffed out a trap and stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. Trap came down on his leg, almost severing it clean. The poor little fellow had to be put down, naturally.”

“How horrible,” Lilliana muttered.

“It’s worse than that, milady. Mrs. Dismuke said the boy was devastated, but his papa thought to teach him a proper lesson all the same. To punish him for disobeying, the marquis dragged his lordship out to the kennels and made him watch while he shot the dog dead.”

Lilliana gasped in horror and quickly set the pup free of her arms as if he were a hot coal. What sort of monster would do that to a boy?

“To this day, Lord Albright
despises
dogs,” Max whispered. “Best you take it back, milady.”

Lilliana did not move, unable to fathom the horror Adrian must have felt. Yet it had been many years ago—
surely
he did not fault every dog for that terrible mishap. That her husband could despise dogs for that reason broke her heart. But it also intrigued her—he must have loved that hound to be so overly sensitive now, she mused. And if anything could provoke a feeling of genuine affection in a person, it was a dog. If any one thing could make that man
feel
, it just might be a dog. “That was a long time ago,” she said softly, and lifted her gaze
to Max. “It is high time he overcame that tragedy, don’t you think?”

Max started, his eyes rounding in shock. “Lady Albright! You
wouldn’t!
” he gasped, clutching his hands to his chest.

Lilliana smiled. “Wouldn’t I?” she asked sweetly.

When Adrian strolled into the gold salon, Lilliana graced him with a beguiling smile from her perch on a china silk settee in the middle of the room. “Good evening.”

The demon looked rather appealing in the gown of dark blue. “Good evening,” he intoned with a quick smile, and walked toward the sideboard, nodding politely to the footman. “What have we got?” he asked amicably, and surveyed the various decanters and bottles. The sound of growling caused him to turn sharply toward the room. Lilliana was still sitting, still smiling … but that evil little spark had appeared in her eye, the same spark he was coming to recognize as trouble. And to prove it, she suddenly leaned over her knees just as Adrian heard the growling again. A rush of uneasiness swept over him, and he walked cautiously to the collection of furniture where she sat.

The sight of the fat pup ferociously shaking a small pillow clamped firmly in his jaw caused Adrian to hastily and involuntarily step back. “What in the hell is
that
?” he asked, stupefied.

“A dog,” Lilliana responded cheerfully, and with her foot nudged the pillow the little fellow was chewing on.

Adrian flushed and took another, unconscious step backward. “I can
see
that. What is it doing in here?” he demanded.

Lilliana laughed. “Fighting a big, ugly pillow, aren’t you, boy?” she purred, and leaned down to scratch him behind the ears.

“Where …” He hesitated as the dog suddenly dropped the pillow and bounded over to a chair to sniff
the legs. “Where? Where did it come from?” he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse.

“I found him while I was riding today.” She glanced up, openly assessing his reaction.

Bloody hell, she was at it again! He frowned down at the pup, his mind whirling with ancient emotions and long-buried, sickening turmoil. Good God, the little beast had paws the size of tea saucers. Suddenly the dog came bounding over to him, and Adrian stumbled backward, fighting the urge to flee the beast. The pup sniffed his shoes before attempting to take one in his mouth. Adrian hastily shook him off.

“He is a water dog and his name is Hugo,” Lilliana announced with great amusement. Adrian hardly heard her as he tried to move away from the dog’s ardent attentions, but the pup was quite determined to have his shoe. Lilliana put a hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to keep from laughing as she slipped to her knees on the floor.

“Are you aware that this dog will grow to be the size of a horse?” Adrian demanded, and shoved at the pup. That only served to excite the little fellow, and he pounced on Adrian’s foot, chewing excitedly at the tip. “He is eating my shoe!” he exclaimed gruffly. “Call him off!”

Laughing gaily, Lilliana clapped her hands. “Come here, Hugo!” she called in a singsong voice, and waved the pillow. The puppy went loping toward her, his thick legs tangling with one another at each step.

Adrian rubbed the tension from the back of his neck as he watched her scoop the puppy up and nuzzle his fur, “Do you intend to keep him?” he asked cautiously, knowing full well how stupid
that
question was.

“Why yes, of course!” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Isn’t he precious?”

“That is not the word that comes to mind,” Adrian muttered. “I wasn’t aware you were fond of dogs.”

She stopped making those silly little cooing sounds to the enormous little monster and glanced up at him.
“Actually there are many things I am fond of that you don’t know. You like him, don’t you? Hugo, go and greet your papa,” she said, and pushed the puppy forward.

“I am most decidedly
not
his papa,” Adrian growled, but he might as well have waved a bone at the little beast. The pup eagerly waddled forward and began sniffing the leg of his trousers.

Lilliana came to her feet. “You do like him, don’t you Adrian?”

Hell no, he didn’t like him. He despised dogs, especially little ones that chewed on his foot. He glanced warily at her through the veil of his lashes. Was it possible this beast could end the onslaught of her bizarre behavior? “I don’t mind,” he forced out, and gave another mighty shove to the pup. “If a dog is what you want, then of course I don’t
mind
,” he said, and shoved the dog away again with such force the puppy yelped.

Lilliana’s bright smile quickly faded. “Hugo!” The pup, apparently unnoticing of the shoving, took a roundabout way to Lilliana’s side, stopping to smell every piece of furniture on his way. She picked him up and started quickly toward the door. “Thank you,” she said as she passed Adrian. “Because I very much want a dog.” She walked out of the room, her face buried in Hugo’s hide, and Adrian turned and strode for the sideboard, gratefully accepting the glass of whiskey the footman held out to him.

Christ Jesus, a
dog!

That evening, he considered having the dog evicted, but assumed that would earn him some form of bizarre punishment, and convinced himself that he could live with the horror of having a dog about. After all, it wasn’t as if he saw her very often. It could not be that bad.

It could be that bad.

The next afternoon he stopped dead in his tracks and blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing double. In the corridor, on the expensive carpet he had brought in from
Belgium,
two
yellow pups rolled over each other, chewing on legs and tails and ears. Lilliana suddenly appeared from the door of the library, carrying a bolt of cloth. “Oh! I didn’t know you were in,” she cheerfully remarked.

“Has Hugo multiplied already?” he asked dryly.

“Oh, Adrian,” she laughed. “That is Hugo’s sister, Maude. I have decided I should like two dogs. You know, for companionship.” She flashed him a devilish smile.

Lord help him, was there no end to his punishment? “Two,” he forced out.

“At
least
two!” she said, and cocked her head prettily to one side.

“In the house.”

“Of course in the house! They are my
companions
,” she said, as if that had not been made sufficiently clear. “Oh, you must be worried about your new carpet—well you shouldn’t, because Mr. Bottoms said it will only be a matter of a week or so before they … well, before they can control themselves.”

“Control themselves?” he asked, madly hoping that meant they would stop chewing legs of expensive walnut consoles as they were, at this very moment, doing.

Lilliana wrinkled her nose. “Before they step outside when nature calls.”

With an impatient roll of his eyes, Adrian continued to his study, desperately hoping he could cope with the invasion of the little mongrels.

He survived them well enough to brave a visit to her rooms later. It had been the first visit in several nights, as he had made himself stay away, alarmed at how much he was beginning to desire the Princess of the Grange. When he entered her room, Lilliana was sleeping, and when he slipped into bed next to her, she sleepily opened her arms to him. It was a simple but seductive gesture, and Adrian took her slowly, prolonging the experience of which he was so suddenly fearful. Their lovemaking was
explosive; they reached a pinnacle together, then drifted slowly downward in a rain of tender kisses.

And when he left her, he paused on the other side of her dressing room door, listening to the faint sound of her crying as he had so many nights before. He fought the urge to go back to her and gather her in his embrace until the pitiful sound of her tears had vanished. But as always, he backed away from the door, turned away, and entered his own suite.

As much as he wanted to deny it, something was happening to him, changing him.

He did not like it. Not at all.

He walked to the drink cart and poured a brandy, then settled in front of the fire, staring thoughtfully at the flames. What was changing was Lilliana, he realized, and it was having a profound effect on him. He might have seen it coming, but against his will and breaking every rule he lived by, their lovemaking was stirring something deep inside him, something that had lain dormant for many years. When he buried himself inside her, when her hips moved with his and she parted her lips to breathe him in, he sometimes felt as if their souls touched. The Grange Princess fulfilled him in a way he had never thought possible.

It had been easy to ignore her in the beginning. Other than the hour or so he spent in her bedroom at night, he thought little of the demure lass he had married. There was nothing about her that captured his imagination, other than the passion she showed him in her bed. But that was slowly changing. Impossible though it seemed, Lilliana was becoming vibrantly alive.

Whatever he had done to anger her had turned her around so completely, so totally, that he had felt like he was living with a different woman than the one he had married, one with moments of great charm and a unique enthusiasm for life that was contagious. Adrian smiled absently at the memory of her in those wonderful trousers, her gorgeous hair now a mop of curl. He thought of that devilish little light that appeared in her eyes when
she attempted to goad him with the neckcloths. She had pretty, expressive eyes, something he had not really noticed before, but Lord, how he noticed them now.

And there was more—such as how the tenants adored her. How many times in the course of a single week did someone ask him with breathless eagerness when Lady Albright might ride by again? Max hung on every word she said, the cook made her pudding every night, and even stiff Mrs. Dismuke gushed around her.

Adrian felt besieged in his own house. If there wasn’t some stout puppy getting underfoot, there was something else to take him by surprise. And there was laughter—constant, light, and coming from all corners of his house. Before the Grange Princess had come into his life, his servants jumped out of his way, nervously tended to him, and never uttered a word unless spoken to. They certainly never
laughed
, not until she had come and illuminated the musty old place. It was almost as if some strange light shone all around her, and drawn to it, they all lived in a pleasant state of derangement.

Yet there were times at night when he was quite certain Lilliana would never laugh again. Why did she cry herself to sleep? What was it that caused her such heartache at night? He treated her well enough—certainly better than other husbands he had witnessed through the years. She had everything she wanted, and if she did not, she had only to ask. Her life was complete as far as he could see; yet
something
made her privately miserable, despite all the gaiety she created. Despite being able to stir the deepest of longings in him.