Julius's Passion (Regency Club Venus 4) Read online

  She moistened lips that had become dryer the longer she stared at him. “Thank you.”

  “Did you hurt yourself, child?” Her uncle rushed to her other side to gently pull her wrist out of the other man’s grasp and inspect the skin for burns.

  She lowered her lashes. “I did not, thank you, Uncle. But I fear the rug did not fare as well.” She released herself to pick up one of the napkins before falling to her knees to begin mopping up the tea before it stained the carpet.

  Julius drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the young lady, whom he could only assume was Lady Bethany Metford and James’s sister, dropping to her knees mere inches in front of him.

  Dear God, if she lifted her head only fractionally, her mouth would be on a level with his rapidly rising cock.

  Her coloring and height were both different to that of her brother, James. She was barely over five feet tall, her fashionably styled hair a pale gold, and her eyes were the same bluish-green as her high-waisted gown. Her figure was slender where her brother was wide and muscular. Her complexion was creamy, her nose small and pert, with rosy cheeks beneath high cheekbones, where James’s countenance was rugged and tanned from years of coping with the outside elements. Her mouth—dear God, Bethany had a mouth that was surely meant for sin. Plump red lips which Julius could easily imagine stretched about his cock as it was sucked down her long and slender throat.

  Family likeness or not, there was no denying this was James’s sister, Julius recalled, disgusted with himself for having such lascivious thoughts about her. He had known James for only a week or so, but their new friendship meant he could not lust after the other man’s sister. It simply was not done.

  Except…

  James himself had fallen in love with their friend Benedict’s sister. That love was the very reason for them being here to reclaim James’s title.

  Which did not make it acceptable for Julius to fall in lust with James’s beautiful younger sister. His friend’s very young sister, Julius reminded himself sternly, knowing himself to be fully thirteen years her senior.

  The same difference in age as Bastian is to his wife, Abigail.

  The same difference in age as Gabriel is to his wife, Victory.

  The same difference in age Benedict is to his soon-to-be wife, Chloe.

  Perhaps, Julius acknowledged stiffly, but that did not make his own instant feelings of lust toward Bethany Metford any more acceptable.

  He was here on a mission, and whilst part of that mission was to now reunite James with his sister, it was not an invitation for Julius to feel an instant desire for her and want to devour every delicious inch of that young lady.

  Which Julius would be telling his cock most sternly once the two of them were alone.

  He held back a smile at how ridiculous his thoughts had become. He did not talk to his cock, sternly or otherwise. It was utterly preposterous of him to—

  “—bit out of your way in Suffolk?”

  Julius was jolted back to an awareness that his host was speaking and he hadn’t been listening. Hopefully, his reply would be a fitting one. “I paid a belated duty Christmas call on a maiden great-aunt who lives in Lowestoft. But as we drove through Lavenham, my carriage hit a rut in the road, and we broke the back axle. The smithy in the village assures me he can fix it, but that it will take several days.”

  Metford nodded. “Johnson is very good.”

  “Rather than sit about the inn all day with nothing to do but converse with my valet, I decided to go for a ride,” Julius continued lightly. “Then I remembered you live in the area and decided to call upon you. I hope I am not intruding?” The last was said only as a nod to politeness. As the wealthy and powerful Earl of Andover, Julius’s actions might not always have Society’s approval, but as a close friend of the Prince Regent, his company would never be openly shunned either. Certainly, a social whore like Adrian Metford would never refuse him.

  “Not at all.” The older man, very tall and thin, with iron-gray hair, and a marked similarity to his nephew James in facial features, had returned to the comfort of his armchair now that his niece had resumed pouring his tea. “The inn, you say?” He wrinkled his nose with distaste. “I think you would be far more comfortable staying here whilst you are waiting for the repair to your carriage.”

  Julius feigned surprise. “I could not possibly intrude to that degree.”

  “I would deem it an honor,” the other man assured.

  “Indeed?”

  “Absolutely.” Metford—Julius really could not think of the older man as anything other than his surname when he had wrenched the Ipswich title from what he had believed to be the dead hands of the nephew he had paid to have killed—was barely able to contain his pleasure at the thought of this social coup. Society, ignorant of Julius’s years of spying for the Crown, might view Julius with a somewhat jaundiced eye, but he was still one of the Prince Regent’s closest friends.

  “I am sure my uncle would welcome the male company, my lord,” Bethany interjected shyly.

  “Forgive my bad manners,” Metford scolded himself as he once again rose to his feet. “Andover, this is my niece, Lady Bethany Metford,” he introduced proudly. “Bethany, this is Lord Julius Soames, the Earl of Andover, and a very close friend of our Prince Regent.”

  Confirming Metford was indeed as much of a social whore in the country as he was in London!

  Julius bit back his contempt for the other man as he turned to give James’s sister a formal bow. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Bethany.”

  She curtseyed prettily. “My lord.”

  “Correct me if I am wrong, but I do not recall the two of us ever meeting in London.” At nineteen, Bethany was several years past the usual age of Coming Out.

  “I never go to London, much preferring to reside in the country all year round.”

  Julius controlled his surprise. “Oh?”

  “I believe London to be a violent and lawless place,” she dismissed before turning to her uncle. “Shall I ring for Lacey and ask him to bring another cup and also instruct him to prepare a bedchamber for His Lordship?”

  “And my valet, if you please,” Julius put in softly. “My grooms shall remain at the inn to take care of the horses, but I cannot do without the services of my valet.” He could, as it happened, having spent many times, often for months, taking care of himself during his many covert visits to France during the war years. Besides, he was a grown man and perfectly capable of dressing and shaving himself. But he knew this foppishness was what Metford would expect from him, and Julius also required a way of ensuring James’s presence on the estate.

  Bethany smiled warmly. “Of course.”

  “What a wonderful hostess you are,” Metford complimented.

  There was, as James had told him, a visible affection between uncle and niece, even if it was a tad overly sweet for his taste. Certainly, Metford showed none of his usual pomposity when it came to his niece.

  Julius assumed Bethany’s aversion to London as being a violent and lawless place was connected to the fact she believed her brother to have been murdered whilst visiting there with their uncle ten years ago.

  How would she feel once she learned that the uncle, who appeared to dote on her, was responsible for having paid several thugs to murder her brother?

  All questions, now that Metford had predictably made the invitation for Julius to stay at Ipswich Park, which could be adequately addressed once he and James were safely ensconced in the household.

  Julius observed the butler as Bethany gave him suitable instructions for their guest’s comfort and that of his manservant. Lacey was possibly aged in his early forties, so probably far too young to have been butler here ten years ago. Which no doubt numbered him as being amongst the new household servants engaged after Adrian Metford assumed the title.

  James hadn’t recognized the landlord at the inn, nor had the landlord known him. Possibly because James had been too young to frequent the
place when he lived in the area, or because the landlord was also new.

  Metford had, it seemed, covered his tracks well when he ensured there was no one left on the estate who would be able to remember and identify the nephew who had been murdered.

  Except Bethany, of course.

  Would she recognize Julius’s valet as being her long-dead brother?

  Or would those intervening years convince her that, even if she should see a similarity, she had to be imagining things because her brother was dead?

  It was to be hoped it would be the latter until James and Julius had the evidence to expose Metford for the charlatan and murderer he was.

  Chapter Three

  “I believe I shall wear the cream lace gown for dinner this evening,” Bethany requested of her maid after looking through the many gowns hanging in her wardrobe. She might choose not to visit London or enter Society, but a seamstress in the village was able to make the fashionable clothes Bethany saw in the magazines her uncle had delivered to her here. “And the pearl earbobs and matching hair combs.” The deep luster of the pearls would perfectly complement the cream lace.

  “The Earl of Andover is a very handsome gentleman,” her maid commented eagerly as she helped Bethany disrobe for her bath. “His valet arrived from the village a short time ago, and he’s very handsome too.”

  “Really, Jane,” she chided ruefully. “The earl would think we are nothing but two country yokels if he were to overhear us waxing lyrical about his looks and that of his valet.” Bethany had a feeling the arrogant and haughty earl—and yes, very handsome!—was well aware of his own striking features and the muscular grace of a body shown to advantage in expertly tailored clothing.

  Of his social superiority too, if her uncle’s deference toward him, despite the two of them having the same title of earl, was an indication.

  Jane giggled. “There ain’t much likelihood of his overhearing us when the two of us are in your bedchamber!”

  Bethany lowered her lashes but couldn’t prevent the warmth which now entered her cheeks merely from thinking of the possibility of Julius Soames ever being in her bedchamber.

  Or rather, the reason he might be in here.

  There were several young gentlemen living in the area who vied for Bethany’s attention whenever her uncle accompanied her to local assemblies and balls, but not one of them had ever fired her imagination the way that Julius Soames now did.

  Possibly because they all seemed very young in comparison to the earl, who was possibly aged in his early thirties.

  Whatever the reason, Bethany felt her breasts swell, her nipples engorge, and between her thighs become warm whenever she thought of what Julius might look like beneath those beautifully tailored clothes.

  She would call him Julius in her thoughts, she decided defiantly, and no one could stop her from doing so. Not the earl. Or her uncle.

  A frown of frustration creased her brow at the thought of her uncle’s sometimes overbearing protection toward her. When they attended the local dances, she was allowed to stand up only once with each of the young gentlemen there. None of them were allowed to call upon her here unless her uncle was free to also be present. She had several female friends amongst the local gentry, but her uncle would only allow them to visit her at Ipswich Park and not the other way about.

  After the manner in which her beloved brother had been set upon and killed in London, and his murderer never apprehended despite exhaustive searches by her uncle and the authorities, her uncle’s zealous overprotection of her was perhaps understandable.

  Nevertheless, Bethany wished she could be allowed a little more freedom socially so that she might explore the power of her burgeoning womanhood.

  Privately, she left the estate under cover of darkness whenever she wished to and without her uncle’s knowledge. Not to meet up with a lover, but to assist the local smugglers. She would be doing so again later this evening, the cloudy sky obscuring the moon making it perfect for a ship to enter one of the coves near the coast. Men in small boats and with packhorses would deftly and quickly ensure that plunder was disbursed to various locations about the countryside. The village of Haleigh, not too distant from here, was one of those places.

  Bethany inwardly chuckled at how shocked the superior and very proper Julius Soames would be by her behavior.

  She had stumbled upon the smugglers quite by accident three years ago when, unable to sleep one hot summer night, she had quickly dressed in her riding clothes before taking her horse down to the river that meandered its way through the estate. She had intended to go in for a swim, and it had been pure chance that she had instead happened to see, and be seen by, several raggedly dressed gentlemen rowing laden boats.

  She later learned they were transporting kegs of brandy, along with several bales of tobacco and chests of tea, which were easier to transport partway by river rather than putting them on the horses too soon.

  She had been aged only sixteen at the time, and feeling completely smothered by her uncle’s overprotection of her.

  Threatened with instant death by having a pistol aimed at her chest, agreeing not only to remain silent about what she had seen but also ensuring that in future no one else on the Ipswich estate ever saw them either, was an easy promise to make.

  In the years since, Bethany had ceased to be viewed as an enemy by the smugglers and now did everything she could to assist with the safe passage and distribution and selling of the smuggled goods so necessary for the local people to be able to enjoy anything resembling a decent life.

  Bethany might be overindulged by her uncle, but she wasn’t blind to the hardship of the people living in the area. Indeed, she did all she could to ensure the people living on and near the estate always had food to eat, clothes to wear, and kindling for their fires.

  The fact her uncle was the local magistrate and more likely to deport rather than spare anyone who stood in front of him charged with smuggling made it doubly important to Bethany that her clandestine nighttime occupation was never discovered.

  She considered smuggling to be a necessary practice rather than an illegal one for the local men and their families. The war with France might be over, but there were still extortionate taxes upon certain imported goods.

  “Franklyn is tall, dark and very handsome— Careful, my lady.” Jane reached out to steady her as she would have stumbled.

  Bethany stared at her maid, unsure of what conversation she had missed during her musings. Only one part of it seemed important. “The earl’s valet is named Franklyn?” she prompted hollowly.

  The maid looked taken aback by the sharpness of her tone. “I believe that’s the name he gave Lacey when he arrived, yes, miss. Why?”

  Why, indeed. Franklyn was not such an unusual surname. It was only that, although Jane could have no reason to know this, having been engaged as Bethany’s maid for only the past three years, it also happened to be the maiden name of Bethany’s mother.

  * * *

  “Have you seen Bethany?” was the first eager question out of James’s mouth after he had been sent for and now entered the elegant suite of rooms allocated to Julius for his stay at Ipswich Park.

  Julius turned from staring out of the window. Not that he could see much as it was already fully dark outside and the moon obscured by heavy clouds. “I have,” he confirmed evenly.

  “And?”

  “And she appears to be in good health and is, as you predicted, the apple of her uncle’s eye.”

  James gazed at him searchingly. “What aren’t you saying?” he finally demanded.

  Julius grimaced at the younger man’s astuteness. There was something about Metford’s behavior toward his niece which caused Julius disquiet. In any other man, he would have said Metford’s attentions were familial in nature rather than lascivious. But, considering he’d had his own nephew and Bethany’s brother murdered, Julius found it hard to believe the older man could have those feelings for Bethany.

  Nor did he w
ish to worry James with what was, after all, merely a feeling of unease.

  “Your sister has grown to be a beautiful and gracious young lady,” he assured instead.

  James expression brightened. “They only had good things to say about her below stairs.”

  “You questioned the other servants about her?” Julius prompted sharply.

  “Other servants?” James raised mocking brows. “This is only a temporary post for me, my lord, so I advise you do not become too accustomed to the attentions of your new valet.” He held out his hands to assist Julius in removing his jacket in preparation for the hot bath which awaited him in the adjoining dressing room.

  Julius chuckled as he straightened. “I apologize.” He affected a bow to accompany the apology before removing his waistcoat and unfastening his shirt. “But it would not do for you to show too much interest in a household we are believed to only be visiting by chance because our carriage was involved in an accident nearby.”

  “One of the maids, Jane, I think her name was, seemed more than happy to tell me about the household, which included her ‘lovely mistress.’”

  Julius gave the younger man a mocking glance. “And I am sure it did not occur to you that what she was really eager for was to hold the attention of the handsome young valet who has appeared so unexpectedly in their midst.”

  A blush darkened James’s cheeks. “As I am in love with and wish to marry Lady Beatrix, it most certainly did not!”

  Julius was suitably chastened. “Did Jane give an opinion on Metford?”

  James’s eyes narrowed. “What is it you are not telling me about him?”

  He feigned a look of innocence, knowing he had nothing but his inner feelings of disquiet to explain his unease. “As I have witnessed the man’s disdain toward people he considers less than himself—which appears to be the majority—I merely wondered if the servants consider him a good employer.”