Julia placed the quill in its holder and whispered, “No.”
Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t find a way to see Mr. Stockton and encourage him. The risk was great and she had much to do. What lay before her wasn’t going to be easy. She needed to stop thinking about the rogue and kisses and be content to enjoy this time of having her son all to herself without the duke’s watchful eyes. She’d had to give up so many things concerning Chatwyn to the duke’s orders. Decisions that should be hers to make—when he could play outside, what foods he should be allowed to eat, and when he left the nursery for the governess’s teachings.
Julia always had to bow to the duke’s will because of his threat to take custody of Chatwyn. The duke prided himself on his reputation of being a devout family man even though his second wife had run away with another man. She remembered hearing that he became all the stricter about obeying his rules after that.
The past couple of days, Julia discovered neither of the servants entered the duke’s private chambers when he wasn’t in residence which was good to know. He kept a minimum staff at the London house when he was away: Mrs. Desford, the housekeeper, and Mr. Leeds, the footman.
Both of them had been with the duke a long time, and Julia had no doubt they were loyal. She wasn’t in a position to befriend either of them.
For all his virtuous standing in London and how properly he treated everyone, the duke had never accepted Julia into the family. Perhaps he had just cause for that. Julia and his youngest son, Kitson, had foiled the duke’s plans for a wealthy family merger and had eloped. The reason wasn’t that they were passionately in love with each other. It was more a defiant matter for Kitson and a desperate one for Julia. The duke had selected a young lady for Kitson to marry, and Julia’s uncle had his heart set on her marrying an older viscount who already had three children. Eloping with Kitson had been an easy decision for her to make when he’d suggested it.
She’d never regretted that impulsive act. Their union gave her Chatwyn.
For members of the ton, it appeared the duke had accepted their elopement with the dignity and fairness he showed everyone. Only Julia knew different. When they first returned from Gretna Green, he told her he’d never forgive her for coercing his son into marriage, though for a time she’d thought he had. But then Kitson died at sea, Chatwyn was born, and the duke’s true feelings for her emerged. She discovered he not only disliked her, he intended to punish her for marrying his son. He considered she had ruined Kitson’s life and now he was trying to destroy hers by his strict rules and the threat of taking her son.
After folding and sealing the missive to the duke, Julia pushed away from the secretary and walked over to the open window that looked out at the back garden. Still, tepid air met her. An uncommon and oppressive heat had gripped London for the past three days. Windows and doors were thrown wide up and down the street. Everyone was suffering from the effects and hoping for a vagrant breeze to flow through their houses and shops to cool down the rooms.
Below her in the garden, she caught sight of a butterfly flittering around the withering blooms. Mr. Stockton came to her mind again. He’d never left her thoughts for very long since she’d watched him climb on his horse and ride away. How could she forget such a rousing man?
Besides, she welcomed the memory of him. How could she not when she enjoyed and longed for the feelings thoughts of him provoked? The strength that was so evident in his quick actions and his body, the unrecognizable spice that clung to his skin and teased her senses were still so real. It had been far too long since she’d pondered so intensely about kisses and caresses. Now they came so easily to her mind. She would never forget how he looked at her, as if he desired her more than any other woman in the world. He made her want to forget where they were, who he was, what was at stake and just follow the delicious feelings and sensations that welled up inside her.
Oh, it had been exciting. It had washed her with such unbelievably wondrous feelings. She had never felt such impatient spirals of desire as when she’d realized she hadn’t fallen out of the tree but had landed against Mr. Stockton’s solid chest. His lips would have covered hers with kisses if not for the man shouting to his horses.
Even now she wished she’d forgone her fear of being caught and allowed the kiss anyway. If she had, she wouldn’t have to be daydreaming about how Mr. Stockton’s kisses felt. She would know.
Julia closed her eyes and forced the pleasant feelings away. Time to put thoughts of Mr. Stockton out of her mind. She had something much more important to think about than her feminine wishes. There would be time for that in the future. She had to focus on her goal of ridding herself of the duke’s choking control before he returned. But even that now reminded her of the rogue. He would probably be off on another voyage by the time she was free to pursue the life she wanted.
However, she’d taken his advice and searched the book room floor for a secret compartment last night after everyone went to bed. Barefoot and in her night robe, she’d slowly, carefully crawled on her hands and knees from one side of the room to the other and back again, hoping to feel a lose board, raised nail, or something to indicate the wood might have been compromised and a hidden compartment may be under the floor. She’d quietly moved chairs and lifted rugs. She’d felt a few rises in the wood in some places and had checked them carefully but could find no sign of anything amiss other than aging of the wood.
The only place in the floor she hadn’t surveyed was under the duke’s desk, and that was because it was too heavy for her to move. Tonight she’d start the painstaking job of removing each book from the shelves, one at a time and feeling for a crack, a seam, or anything in the wall that might be suspect.
“Pardon me for disturbing you, Lady Kitson?”
Julia turned toward the open doorway and smiled at the housekeeper. “You never disturb me, Mrs. Desford,” Julia responded kindly.
“Thank you, my lady.” The short, slightly robust woman with gray hair and doe-like brown eyes gave her a reserved smile of appreciation. “Mrs. Brina Feld is here and wants to know if you’ll receive her.”
“Yes, of course,” Julia whispered excitedly. She’d been anxious to talk with Brina about her plans. “There’s a letter to the duke on my desk. Would you please see it gets posted to him today?”
With that, Julia lifted her skirts, then hurried out of the room and down the stairs. She rounded the doorway that led into the drawing room where she stopped abruptly. Her dear friend stood in front of the large window that overlooked the front lawn of the house. Shards of sunshine streamed across her face and silvery blond hair. Julia’s old foxhound stood beside her, slowly wagging his tail. Brina seemed in such deep thought that Julia hesitated in calling out to her.
Brina Feld was the youngest and most wounded of the three widowed friends who had started The Seafarer’s School for Girls two years ago. Sad as it was for Julia to admit, Brina was the only one of the ladies who had deeply loved her husband. In the nearly four years since his death, her mourning hadn’t seemed to lessen. Nor had the heartbreak that losing him had caused her.
Brina was tall and slender, with a straight, graceful carriage. Everyone took notice when she walked into a room. To most of Society she was the embodiment of all a widow should be. Quiet. Proper. Staunch. Yet there was a beautiful, feminine appeal about her that any lady could envy, and some did. Most every eligible man, and many who weren’t, had tried to court her since her mourning passed. Like Julia, she always kindly, but firmly, let them know she wasn’t available. Their differences rested only in the fact that Julia wouldn’t have minded the attention of a gentleman or two, if not for her father-in-law’s promise to take her son from her if she didn’t stay a proper widow. And Julia hadn’t met the man who would tempt her to risk losing her son.