a man and woman locked in a passionate kiss, a copy of some nameless Greek statue. It had been a gift to their father from Paul after his first visit to Greece. Having no use for the statue in the house, her father had it made into a fountain, scandalising Charles, who insisted on hiding it in this secluded corner.
Julia plunked down on the stone bench in front of the fountain, watching the water run over the naked marble bodies. The polished stone glistened in the noon sun, intensifying the urgency of the lovers’ embrace. The man’s fingers dug into the hard flesh of the woman’s thigh, his hands entwined in her hair as she pressed her naked form against his. Her long, gracefully carved fingers rested against the taut muscles of the male’s well-chiselled back. Studying the lovers’ embrace, their bodies so close not even water could separate them, Julia felt her chest constrict. What would it be like to inspire such passion in a man?
Picking up a small stone, she flung it into the pool at the base of the fountain, sending a large splash up and over the side. Reaching down for another rock, she heard the pitter-patter of paws on gravel as Charlemagne barrelled down on her. The small dog threw his front paws up on her knees, his wagging tail shaking his whole body as Julia stroked his soft fur.
‘I thought I’d find you here,’ her mother said, scooping up Charlemagne and sitting down next to her.
‘Did Emily send you here to chastise me for not being a perfect lady?’
‘Emily is a sweet girl, good for Charles and I adore her,’ her mother remarked, settling the wiggling dog on her lap. ‘But I seldom listen to her advice or Charles’s. I suggest you do the same.’
‘I’ve tried, but it only makes them more persistent.’
‘Yes, he takes after your grandfather in that regard.’ Charlemagne refused to be still and Mother put him on the ground. ‘You’re worried about Charles taking over Knollwood, aren’t you?’
Like Uncle George, Mother could be very direct and Julia found it both helpful and at times hindering. She watched Charlemagne sniff around the fountain, jumping back when an errant bead of water landed on his nose.
‘When he does, what will I do?’ Julia choked, digging the toe of her boot into the ground.
‘I think you’ll find something. You’re much more resourceful than either Charles or Paul.’
‘But what else could there possibly be for me?’
Her mother took Julia’s face in her hands, pushing a strand of hair off of her cheek. ‘That’s up to you to discover.’
She kissed Julia’s forehead, then rose, snapping her fingers at Charlemagne.
‘Do I hide from the world here?’ Julia asked before her mother could leave.
‘Who put such an idea in your head?’
‘Uncle George.’
The older woman laughed softly. ‘Since when do you take my brother seriously?’
Julia shrugged. ‘Emily and Charles are always saying it, in their own way.’
‘I think only you know the answer.’ She strolled out of the garden, Charlemagne close on her heels.
* * *
The quick click of a lady’s perturbed step drew James to the morning-room door. Miss Howard strode into the entrance hall, moving like a tempest, oblivious to everything but her own energy. Fascinated, he wanted to draw her out, but hesitated. Better to let her go than risk the blunt blow of her dark mood. However, something in the troubled frown on her pretty face prompted him to speak.
‘Miss Howard?’
The stomping girl vanished, replaced by an awkward young woman conscious of the world around her. ‘Yes?’
She stood on the bottom stair, one small hand on the oak banister, poised like a doe to flee. He wondered what had happened to make such an exuberant creature so timid. ‘I want to apologise for this morning. You took me quite by surprise.’
‘Yes, I imagine I did.’ She moved to leave, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.
‘I don’t usually meet young ladies in the forest so early in the morning.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’ she demanded with startling directness.
‘You didn’t ask,’ he laughed, his mirth evaporating under her stern glare. ‘Allow me to apologise. I should have introduced myself.’ He offered a humble bow, but it did not soften the small crease marring her smooth brow.
‘I wish you had for it might have saved us both a great deal of trouble.’
‘I shall endeavour to be more agreeable to you the next time we meet in a forest.’ The image of them alone among the trees, her hair loose about her naked shoulders, their bodies entwined came to mind. His hand itched to reach up and trace the gentle curve of her cheek, slip his fingers behind her long neck and draw her close.
‘There will be no next time,’ she corrected, ending the pleasant fantasy.
‘I think it quite possible,’ he teased. ‘Judging by this morning, I assume it is your habit to ride out alone in the mornings.’
‘Shh.’ She stepped closer, waving a silencing hand and filling the air between them with the faint scent of rosemary.
‘Your mother doesn’t approve of you riding alone?’ he asked in a low voice.
‘Mother doesn’t care, but Emily does.’ She stepped off the stair and stood in front of him, her face softening. ‘Thank you for not telling her you saw me riding without a groom. You spared me a great deal of trouble.’
‘It was my pleasure, and I’ll gladly do it again if the need arises.’
‘I hope it doesn’t come to that.’ She smiled, her face glowing with amusement.
‘You’re very pretty when you smile,’ he offered without thinking, amazed at how much her pleasure delighted him.
Her smile disappeared and she raised one disbelieving eyebrow. Something of the confident Artemis he’d seen this morning flashed in her hazel eyes, rousing his blood.
‘I know the country is lacking in diversions, but do not think to amuse yourself with me.’
James straightened, forgetting his desire. He should have been insulted, but he could hardly blame her for saying what he’d momentarily imagined. ‘You misunderstood my meaning. I have never, would never behave as you intimate.’
She fixed him with the same scrutinising look he once used on seamen when they told him a tall tale to cover their misdeeds. ‘I am not naïve, Captain. My brother and uncle tell me everything, so I know what Navy men are about.’
‘Do you?’ He struggled to keep the laughter out of his voice, still unable to believe a young woman with her hair pulled back like a dour nun could be so forward. He leaned against the wooden banister, bringing their faces much closer than intended. She did not step back. ‘I may have to change your opinion of Navy men.’
‘I’m
