Julia London 4 Book Bundle (71 page)

That usually did the trick, as funding for her school was uppermost in her thoughts these days. Unfortunately, donations promised to her before The Disaster were now, for all intents and purposes, nonexistent. What few she had received—those from Lady Violet, Ann and Eugenie, and of course, the bank draft she had received from Julian the day after her tea—were hardly enough to meet her need. Claudia had figured, based on the allowance she had negotiated from Julian, that it would take her twenty years to save the funds necessary to build a quality school—and that was assuming she never spent another farthing.

So she doggedly continued to call on old acquaintances in her quest for donations, and in the course of it, learned to accept the refusals that came with thinly veiled censure because of her scandal. She developed a humble appreciation for the few donations that were made.

Lord Dillbey didn’t help matters, either. It seemed the old goat enjoyed deriding her efforts in various public places. She knew that he had taken to calling her planned school the
Whitney School of Morals, Loose though They Are
. Apparently, Dillbey made a joke of her everywhere he went, and she feared that those who might have contributed were loath to do so now, not when they faced certain ridicule by a powerful statesman.

It was the dilemma of the lack of donations for her school that she was
trying
to contemplate one afternoon in her sitting room, but her usual attempts to fill her thoughts had failed her, and it was Julian’s fault. Punching her fists to her hips, she glared at her latest rendition of the school she had hung on the wall, then at the books spread across her desk. She tried, Lord God she
tried
to push him from her mind, put him at a safe distance, pretend he wasn’t significant. As if it were humanly possible to do that! No, it was not possible, not when he came to her as he had last night, touching her in
ways that made her shiver, lifting her into ethereal worlds where her body and his were indistinguishable from one another. And it seemed the harder she tried not to
feel
it, the more she did. Deeper and fuller and more profoundly each time.
Damn him!

She abruptly lifted her hands to her face; her fingers felt cool against her heated skin as she recalled a conversation she had overheard once in the ladies’ retiring room at some rout. Lady Crittendon, a beautiful woman married to a man as wealthy as Midas and as old as Father Time, was in conversation with a friend when Claudia entered the room, and proceeded to relate a chance encounter with Lord Kettering in a low, silky tone. Insisting that neither had intended anything to happen, she had implied rather boldly that they had exchanged more than a greeting. When her friend asked her if she was concerned that the Rogue might brag of his conquest, Lady Crittendon had laughed and confided that Kettering was a man who could hold his tongue very well indeed—and in all the right places. The two women had tittered gleefully, and Claudia had wondered what they meant.

Oh, what ignorance!
Not once had she ever imagined, not even in her wildest dreams, what a man might do to a woman with his hands and his tongue and his—She suddenly sprawled onto a chair, her legs stretched in front of her, her arms draped over the sides, and took several deep breaths.

At first she had resisted him, quite certain no self-respecting woman would allow
that
to happen. But her resistance was awfully weak and very short-lived—astounded as she was by the incredible sensation of his touch, quickly swept away by the sheer pleasure of it, she had writhed uncontrollably, shamelessly seeking more. He had held her firmly, sucking and nipping and laving her languidly, driving her to the edge of a desperation so deep that she had, at last, exploded into a thousand little pieces of herself and scattered all over the place.

Claudia closed her eyes and drew a very deep breath
in an attempt to steady her breathing, which was, all of a sudden, rather shallow.

She had always understood, of course, why women flocked to him, only now, she understood it better than ever.

But it was really the little things that made him so completely irresistible. Like the way he was constantly touching her. Affectionately, without thinking, as if it was second nature. He
touched her
hand, her waist, the wisps of hair around her forehead. Little, comforting touches that could soothe the most troubled of souls. Ooh, and there were the things he said to her at the height of passion; praising her beauty, whispering how ravenous with desire she made him.

With a moan, Claudia pressed her forehead against the palm of her hand, wincing as another swell of longing swept over her, unwelcome and uninvited.
He touched her
, and then he would leave in the company of Arthur Christian, sometimes with Adrian Spence, too, the three of them laughing at some private jest as they sauntered down the curving steps to St. James Square. No one had to tell her what they did or where they went, and certainly Julian never offered. It wasn’t necessary. She recognized the pattern because it had been the same with Phillip: Rogues leaving in the company of one another, laughing gaily, attracting the attention of men and women alike as they climbed into their expensive carriages and set off for a night of carousing with drink and women from Madame Farantino’s.

She could never seem to quite fully reconcile the Rogue who set off for an evening of carousing with the husband who treated her so tenderly. When she tried, she was filled with doubt about her perceptions of him, inevitably debating herself until she was exhausted.

Yes, well, this was the sort of uncertain marriage a woman made when she betrayed everything she had ever known and allowed herself to be seduced. Her punishment for giving in to her basest desires was her own private little hell where she was tortured by his touch,
craved
it, and wished every day of her life that he would love her,
truly
love her.

Claudia’s hands fell to her lap and she slowly opened her eyes, forced herself to swallow past the dull pain in the pit of her belly, and focus on the sketch of her school. The school was her only answer. She had to focus on something, push her feelings down, bury them, ignore them completely. It was the only way she might survive.

The rap at the door was a welcome intrusion. “Am I interrupting?” Sophie asked as she closed the door softly behind her.

“Of course not!” Claudia quickly came to her feet, smiling. She had been quite relieved when Sophie finally returned from Ann’s to live at Kettering House—another, pleasant diversion from her thoughts. “Come, I’ve something to show you,” she said, gesturing Sophie forward.

Sophie hurried across the room. “Oh, Claudia, there is something I absolutely must discuss with you.”

“Me too. Look at my sketch, would you? I think this version might be too big, do you think?” she asked, peering closely at her drawing.

Sophie looked at the sketch, then at Claudia. “But it’s exactly the same as the others.”

“They are not
exactly
the same,” Claudia muttered, and yanked the sketch down. “What is it you wanted to discuss?” she asked, tossing the sketch on a table with several others.

With a groan, Sophie fell dramatically onto a settee. “Oh, Claudia, I am quite desperate! I swore I wouldn’t burden you, but my brother is so mean-spirited, I simply cannot abide living in this house a moment longer, I swear it!”

That surprised Claudia—for all his faults, Julian doted on his sisters and always had. “Sophie!” she exclaimed, smiling. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“You must
promise
not to take his side in this! I can’t
speak of it to anyone except you,” she said, anxiously propping her weight on one elbow.

Now she had Claudia’s undivided attention. “I promise,” she said, and sat on the edge of an embroidered chair next to the settee.

Sophie pushed herself into a sitting position and looked forlornly at the carpet. “I’ve a beau,” she muttered.

Claudia laughed. “Oh, Sophie, is
that
all? Who is he?”

“Sir William Stanwood. He’s a baronet—do you know him?” she asked, a twinge of anxiousness in her voice.

The name was only vaguely familiar to Claudia and she shook her head.

“Oh, he’s
wonderful!
” exclaimed Sophie, suddenly beaming. “You will
adore
him! He’s quite handsome, and he’s very tall, and blond, and he is so very determined to make a good life, you know. He’s not at all like the dandies Aunt Violet brings around, but very conservative in his manner. A gentleman—”

Claudia squeezed Sophie’s knee. “He sounds divine! So what is the trouble?”

“Julian won’t allow me to see him,” Sophie said, sniffing indignantly.

Something rumbled in the back of her mind, and Claudia’s smile faded. “Why on earth not?”

“He believes William is not sincere in his esteem.”

As your friend, I am honor-bound to say that Phillip is not the sort of man for you, Claudia
. The old wound split open with Sophie’s words. “Is that so?” she asked icily. “And pray tell, what gives Kettering such superior insight?”

Sophie shook her head. “He doesn’t really even
know
him! William holds me in the highest regard, yet Julian forbids me to see him under any circumstances, and if I should try he has threatened to send me to Kettering Hall for good!”

“But
why
?” Claudia insisted. “What could he possibly have against Sir William?”

Sophie dropped her gaze and fidgeted with the
polished oak arm of the settee. “Well … he has said many hateful things, but I rather think he believes William is not of suitable circumstance to marry me.”

Oh, now
that
was just grand! Naturally,
he
could share his favors with just about any female who crossed his path, but dear Sophie was not allowed to follow her heart because of her bloody
situation
. “Are you quite certain? He refuses Stanwood’s suit because he is only a
baronet
?”

“Oh yes, I am certain that is the root of it! Claudia, what am I to
do
? To be without William is not to be borne!” she cried.

Claudia was at once on her feet, marching to the sideboard. “I’ll tell you what you do. You follow your heart!” she exclaimed. “You can’t allow Kettering’s lack of sentiment to guide what may be the most important decision of your life!”

“But
how
? Julian is so very stubborn in this!”

The indisputable gulf between his own behavior and what he expected of Sophie was simply intolerable. But it was so typical, so very
male
, and it infuriated Claudia. “I don’t know,” she admitted truthfully. “But I do know this: You will regret it all your days if you give up your heart’s desire for the sake of his ridiculous notion of propriety!”

“Then you’ll help me?” Sophie asked desperately.

“Of course I will, if I can. What of Eugenie and Ann? We could—”

“No!” Sophie quickly and violently shook her head. “They know nothing—William warned me that they might very well take Julian’s side in this.”

Keep it from Eugenie and Ann? They both were aware of the inequalities women faced in the course of their everyday lives—they would understand. But neither was as anxious to correct the world as Claudia, and the two of them absolutely adored their pig-headed brother. Stanwood was probably right. “Yes, well, I’ll help you if I can,” she said at last. “But I am not sure what I can do—”

“You can talk to him!”

Claudia glanced at Sophie—how could she explain that
she
had married for the sake of propriety? That she and Julian were caught in some make-believe world of marriage where they didn’t really speak to one another? Without thinking, she ruefully shook her head, and Sophie suddenly sprang to her feet and rushed to the sideboard. “Then help me
see
him,” she said, grabbing Claudia’s shoulders. “I should very much like to meet William in the park tomorrow at noon—”

“Alone?” Claudia heard herself ask.

“Claudia! I am almost one and twenty—I
must
see him! You can help me! You can tell him that we are off to call on Mary Whitehurst! Then you go round to see her, and I shall meet William!”

Lie to him
? “Oh no. No, Sophie, I am a horrid liar, really I am, and honestly, I don’t think I could actually
lie
—”

“
Not lie
,” Sophie hastily reassured her. “I
shall
pay a call to Mary Whitehurst, I shall meet you there! Only later, after I’ve seen William. You see? It’s not a lie.”

Hardly convinced, Claudia frowned skeptically. “And what of Tinley? He will ask where you go.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Tinley can’t remember his name most days!
Please
, Claudia! You are the only hope that I have! I shall
never
see William if you won’t help me and I can’t very well follow my heart if I can never see him, can I?”

But to lie! Still, Julian was being entirely unreasonable about this. Perhaps she could just avoid the subject altogether … “All
right
,” she said, shrugging out of Sophie’s grip.

“
Oh, thank
you, Claudia!” Sophie cried, throwing her arms around Claudia’s neck.

“Thank Claudia for what?”

Both women started at the sound of Julian’s voice. Sophie quickly dropped her arms from Claudia’s shoulders. “Um … for, ah, for helping me with a problem,” she muttered awkwardly, and looked anxiously to Claudia.

That only caused Julian to walk farther into the room. “A problem? Is there anything I can do?”

“No!” Sophie responded a bit too sharply, then smiled nervously. “It’s ah … it’s a female matter, really, and I—”

Julian quickly lifted his hand in supplication. “My apologies.”

“Not at all.” She cast a meaningful look at Claudia. “If you will excuse me, then,” she muttered, and hurried from the room, hardly sparing her brother a glance as she passed.

Julian sighed wearily as he watched her disappear into the corridor, but when he turned to face Claudia again, he was smiling warmly. “I’m sorry if I interrupted.”