Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (40 page)

Julian wore a strange expression as he gazed upon his sister. "That is probably the last gown I will ever pay for her to wear."

Sophia would have laughed if he hadn't looked so crestfallen. Julian was holding up tolerably well, but she could see just how hard this was for him. He was setting Letitia free to make her own mistakes and solve her own problems. To say he didn't like it would be an understatement, but he knew it had to be done.

The ceremony was small— only the four of them and the vicar, as Gabriel had returned to London the day before— afterward they went back outside, where they said goodbye to the vicar, who was unable to join them at the house for breakfast due to another appointment. Letitia, as radiant as any bride ever was, whispered something to her husband and then took her brother by the arm.

"Come with me," she said, and steered him toward the garden of headstones and monuments surrounded by a small stone wall.

They stood before three newer-looking markers, their backs to Sophia and Marcus. Sophia couldn't help but wonder what they were saying.

Feeling like an interloper, she tore her gaze away from her husband's back and turned to Marcus, who was watching Letitia with so much love in his gaze that Sophia didn't know which made her more uncomfortable— watching the private scene at the graves, or this.

He was a lovely man, Letitia's husband. Handsome and strong, yet kind and gentle. He would be good to Letitia, very good. But he would not allow her to run roughshod over him. It was a good match.

And Sophia knew for a fact the two of them would never have to worry about money. Julian would never allow his sister to suffer, and she could only hope that Mr. Wesley's pride wouldn't allow it either.

Letitia rejoined them a few moments later, but Julian remained at the graves. A few moments later, Letitia and Marcus left to return to the house. Reluctant to intrude upon Julian's privacy, Sophia waited for him to finish whatever it was he was doing. Her heart in her throat, she watched as he straightened the flowers— Letitia's bouquet— on one of the graves.

When he finally joined her, his eyes were red and his lashes wet, but he smiled when she looked at him in open concern.

"Thank you," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders as they began walking back to the house.

"For what?" She hadn't done a thing that she knew of.

"Everything."

She waited for him to elaborate. He didn't.

"You're welcome."

Letitia and Marcus left for London again late that afternoon. Everyone agreed that it would be better for them to return quickly as man and wife to staunch any gossip. Plus, they would be able to spend their wedding night alone— without the bride's overprotective elder brother in the house.

After the newlyweds left, Sophia went upstairs to nap and then bathe. She half expected Julian to join her, but he didn't. When she came downstairs, hours later, she asked Mrs. Berry if she had seen her husband.

"He was in the library for a while, my lady," the housekeeper replied, "going through his father's books, but he went outside about half an hour ago. I am not sure where he went."

But Sophia was. Over the last few days she had witnessed Julian facing his past in many ways. This house, which he had begun to associate with many tragedies in his life, was suddenly a place of happiness again. He and Sophia had reconciled there. Letitia had been married in it. It did not seem so painful for him to be there anymore, but there was one place he hadn't visited yet— not with her— and Sophia knew that's where he was now.

She didn't bother with a bonnet or gloves, but wrapped a light shawl around her shoulders and went out to look for him. Even though the sun was setting low in the west, the day was still uncommonly warm. She really didn't need the shawl, but she took it anyway.

Grass rustled against her slippers and gown as she walked around the side of the house, down the low sloping lawn toward the pond that nestled like a sparkling gem on a bed of green velvet. As she rounded the copse of trees that hid most of the water from view, the sunset seemed to set the water on fire, and the sky danced with flames.

She did not find him standing on the shore as she expected. All she found there was a pile of clothes. Julian was in the water, his long arms glistening in the sinking sun as they cut through the water with powerful strokes.

Sophia's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. When Julian decided to face his demons, he certainly didn't do it halfway. She'd wager he hadn't swam in that pond since Miranda's death and now there he was, alone in it.

There was no reason for him to be alone anymore. Glancing over her shoulder to ensure they were indeed out of view of the house, Sophia struggled with the buttons on the back of her gown. She pulled the garment over her head and laid it on top of Julian's clothes so it wouldn't get stained. Then she stripped off everything else until she stood on the grassy shore in nothing but her hairpins and the skin God gave her.

The water was cool as she stepped in, but not as cold as she feared. It wouldn't have mattered even if it was frozen. Julian was in it and she was going to join him.

"I wondered when you might find me," he said with a smile once she was directly in front of him, the water lapping around her shoulders.

Suddenly Sophia wondered if she might have made a mistake. "I am sorry. Did you want to be alone?"

His smile grew. There was something boyish about it. He looked…happy. "I do not think I will ever be alone so long as you are around."

"I am your wife, not your nursemaid," she replied a little more defensively than she intended. "You can be alone all you want."

He came closer, so close that their chests were almost touching. "No matter where I am you will be in my heart. You are my always."

Any other man, and Sophia would have rolled her eyes— but she knew Julian meant it. He wouldn't say it if he didn't. Her own heart thrilled to hear it, and echoed in reply.

He tilted his head to one side. "Tell me why you love me." He sounded like a little boy asking why the sky was blue.

It just is.

"I do not know if I can attribute it to one thing. I only know in my heart that you are everything I want and need. You are what my life has been missing."

It sounded very lame and senseless to Sophia. Julian made his declaration sound so poetic, so simple and real. Hers sounded idiotic.

Julian didn't seem to agree. In fact, he seemed rather pleased by her words.

"Swim with me," he said. "Make this pond a happy place again like you have done with the rest of the estate."

Sophia watched him as he slipped beneath the surface, propelling himself effortlessly through the water. He thought
she
had brought joy back to Heatherington? Perhaps she had helped, but he and Letitia…

Oh bother. If he wanted to give her the credit then she would just shut up and take it. It was time she stopped doubting herself and her own worth. Julian loved her. She could do anything she set her mind to.

Laughing as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Sophia swam after him, launching herself onto his back when she finally caught him. They swam until the last vestiges of daylight were almost lost before climbing up onto the low wooden dock to dry off.

Warm in the circle of Julian's arms, despite the cooling air, Sophia smiled in contentment.

"I wish we could stay here forever." She sighed, resting her shoulder against his chest. She was sitting in the hollow of his legs as he sat cross-legged on the dock, the springy hair of his left thigh tickling the backs of her calves.

He kissed her shoulder, sliding a hand down to cup her breast. "We can if you want."

Sophia's breath caught as his thumb brushed the tightened flesh of her nipple. "We cannot, and you know it."

His teeth nipped gently at her neck. She shivered. "Why not?"

Turning in his arms, she squirmed on his lap until she sat with her legs wrapped around his waist and her breasts pressed against the warm wall of his chest. The evidence of his growing arousal nudged against the curls between her thighs.

Would he always want her like this? Would she always be so ready to receive him? God, she hoped so.

"You have an adoring public," she teased, flicking her tongue along the velvety edge of his earlobe. "Your publisher will expect more poems from you."

Hands going back to her breasts, Julian muttered just what he thought his publisher could do with his poems.

A familiar throbbing began low in Sophia's abdomen as his long nimble fingers worked their magic.

Dear heaven, but she loved him.

"Promise me you will never leave me again," she demanded when he tried to slide inside her.

He lifted his hips. "I promise."

Sophia shifted, and he growled in frustration. "Promise me you will finish the poem you have been writing for me."

His eyes widened. She hadn't told him she had read the poem. "They have all been for you."

She shifted again, narrowly avoiding his insistent erection once more. "You know what one I mean. I want you to finish it."

"That poem is a work in progress," he informed her with a mixture of levity and seriousness. "Every time I discover something new about you I write it down. I expect to be working on it for the next forty or fifty years at least."

He knew exactly what to say to make her chest ache.

He also knew just how to distract her so he could slide the entire length of him inside her with one deft stroke.

Gasping, Sophia wrapped her arms around his neck. Her body barely had time to adust to his exquisite intrusion before he began to move.

"But you plan to finish it one day?"

He gripped her hips. "Yes."

"Oh! I…you promise?"

Chuckling, he caught the back of her head in his hand and brought her mouth down to his.

"You will just have to trust me," he whispered against her lips.

And she did.

Fourteen months later

I
t was the perfect day for a party.

The summer sun was warm, the breeze pleasant and gentle. Alexander Wycherley, the future Earl of Braven, sat on his father's lap, his face dotted with cake crumbs and smeared with icing, some of which had found its way into his fine blond hair as well as onto his father's trousers. The present earl didn't seem to mind.

Countess Braven watched her husband and son with a gentle smile. She had the serene glow of a woman still early enough in a pregnancy that she could sit comfortably in the shade, unbothered by the heat, her hand resting protectively on the gentle swell of her stomach.

Beside her, the Countess Angelwood passed her sleeping daughter to the child's father. She had her mother's red hair and stormy eyes and her father's temperament— something which her father was often heard to profess extreme gratitude for.

"You had her all to yourself for nine months," Lord Angelwood said as he took little Imogen into his arms. "Now it is my turn."

Lady Angelwood rolled her eyes. "You can carry the next one, then."

Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Wesley came up beside Lord Angelwood to admire the child in his arms. They hadn't been blessed with a child of their own yet— not for lack of trying, Mr. Wesley joked, much to his wife's embarrassment.

Mrs. Wesley wore a simple gown of yellow muslin, stylish but hardly the cutting edge of style. She didn't seem to mind. There was a quiet, content maturity to her that hadn't been there prior to her marriage. She was completely in love with her husband and it was obvious that he felt the same way about her. They lived comfortably thanks to her dowry and his business investments, several of which he was expecting a large return on shortly.

The Earl of Wolfram watched them all with an overwhelming sense of joy and fulfillment. They were his friends, his family. It felt right to have them all together here on the terrace at Heatherington. The only thing missing was his wife.

As if on cue, she appeared at his side, linking her arm through his with a bright smile. He smiled back, knowing full well all the love he felt for her was revealed in his gaze. He didn't care who saw it. He was not ashamed to love her as much as he did.

That morning Sophia had told him she suspected she might be with child. Julian had experienced a peculiar pinching in his chest at her announcement. For the first time he thought he might be ready to be a father. Whatever happened, whether they had a child or not, he was thankful for what he had.

And what he had was family and friends who loved him. To think at one time it had just been him, Brave and Gabe— the three of them against the world.

Julian grinned at the two of them— at Brave, who had sworn to never love again and found a love too strong to resist in Rachel, and at Gabe, who had been given a second chance at happiness with Lilith, his first and only love.

And then there was Julian himself. If asked, he would have to say he was the most fortunate of them all. After all, he had been given everything he needed, everything he had ever wanted, when fate brought Sophia back into his life.

"I love you," he murmured for her ears alone.

She smiled up at him, filling his heart with so much joy it hurt. "I love you too."

He kissed her then, heedless of their audience, laughing when Brave and Gabe began to tease him.

They were lucky men indeed.