‘Father’s relieved to see you—you do know that, don’t you?’ Hal shrugged. ‘He is proud of you, even if he doesn’t approve of you. Do you want to talk about how it happened?’ Marcus leaned against a statue of Diana.
‘We’d been sitting on our back sides most of the day—it was a charge through the French artillery right at the end. The thing is, it was a French shell that took me off the horse and knocked me about—but an English trooper tried to kill me first. He was responsible for all the wounds.’
‘What the hell?’ His brother stood up abruptly, sending the goddess rocking on her plinth.
Hal explained. ‘…and I don’t think it was Stephen Hebden this time. Not when Harris de scribed someone who spoke like me, was older and who had cold eyes like death. But Harris had a silken rope. I’ve got it in my luggage. And Hebden was in Brussels: he bought jewellery from Julia. Snooping on me, I have no doubt.’
‘You know, that ties in with my gut feeling that there is someone else or chestrating these rumours about Father. They aren’t Hebden’s style. Nor is murder.’ Marcus began to pace up and down the flag stones. ‘You realize this is the very spot where the original murder took place? No wonder it preys on Father’s mind.
‘But we know, to some extent, why Hebden is persecuting us all: he blames the families for his father’s death. But why should anyone else? I can believe any of us individually might have made an enemy—but the Wardales, the Carlows and Imogen Hebden?’
‘If Wardale was innocent,’ Hal said slowly, ‘then the murderer and spy may still be alive, still be out there.’
‘In his last letter to his wife, Wardale denied it, said he suspected Father,’ Marcus pointed out. ‘But, if we start from the basic premise that he is innocent too—who does that leave?’
‘Perhaps you should tell all this to Stephen Hebden.’ Both men swung round to find Julia standing on the flags behind them. ‘I came to see if you wanted tea,’ she said, prosaically. ‘Then I over heard.’
‘You’d need a long spoon to sup with that devious devil,’ Marcus said harshly. ‘He almost caused my wife’s death.’
‘But not, I think, intention ally,’ Hal said, a wary eye on his brother. ‘And Hebden acts personally in his vengeance. The attack on me was planned, paid for and at one remove from the instigator.’
‘I’d like to see you being so tolerant if he kid napped Julia and threatened to ravish her. And don’t forget that he tried to ruin Honoria, almost wrecked Monty’s wedding. Do I need to go on?’
‘No. I’ll not take him into my confidence,’ Hal agreed.
But despite his words, he was still brooding on the mystery as he sat in his room by the light of a single branch of candles, staring at his bare feet protruding from the hem of his silk robe and trying to work up enough energy to get into bed.
There were sounds from the little parlour that used to be the school room he shared with Marcus. Julia, looking for a book, perhaps. He wondered how soon he could take things a little further without shocking her. Even thinking about it had his body tightening, his loins aching. She responded readily to his kisses now, although he often caught her staring at him, her cheeks pink with what had to be shyness. Patience had never been his strong suit, but he was certainly learn
ing it now.
With a faint creak, the door opened. There, on the threshold, her hair loose and waving on her shoulders, stood Julia. In the flickering light he could see her toes, bare beneath the hem of her simple white night gown.
Hal got to his feet, closing his mouth with a snap, thankful for the heavy folds of his dressing gown. He was naked beneath the robe and, suddenly, so aroused it hurt. ‘Julia? Did you want something?’
Her face was flushed, and she seemed to be holding onto the door handle for support. ‘I want to know if you are ever going to come to my room.’
‘What? Why?’ This was his shy, innocent bride who had fled when he had asked her to kiss him.
‘Because we are married and I do not feel very married!’ He took a step towards her. The pink in her cheeks, he realized incredulously, was partly indignation. ‘I know I will not be very good at first, but you can teach me, can’t you?’
‘Julia, I told you. I am not used to virgins, I do not want to shock you. I thought, perhaps, if you got used to me and realized I am trying to reform my ways, you would come to trust me and it would be easier.’
‘For whom?’ she enquired tartly. Hal found his lips were twitching, despite a feeling of near panic. How could he face the French army feeling nothing but excited anticipation and yet Julia reduced him to this state of nerves?
‘For both of us?’ he suggested. She glared at him, and perversely he felt his spirits lifting. ‘If you are sure?’ He reached out a hand to his bed and tossed back the covers. For a moment, he thought she would turn and run, then she came in, closed the door behind her and walked steadily to stand in front of him.
‘If it would not hurt you?’ she asked. ‘I wasn’t sure. If it would, then it would nice just to be held, I think.’
‘That might be rather more painful,’ Hal muttered, earning a puzzled look. Lord, she was so innocent. A least she had seen him naked, that was one less shock, he supposed. Although what she would make of the changes that happened to an aroused man…
He blew out the candles, then moved in, finding her easily despite the darkness. He took her in his arms and kissed her, sinking immediately into the now-familiar sweetness of her response, the scent of lilac soap, the softness of her body as he held her.
Now, without corsets and layers of clothing, he could feel the yielding curves, the lovely line of waist and hip. He let one hand stray to cup her buttock and she gave a little gasp against his mouth, then pressed closer.
Emboldened, he let his fingers investigate the bows at the shoulders of the night gown until, working blind, he freed them so that when he took his hands away and stepped back, the garment tumbled to the floor around her feet.
‘Oh!’