Julia couldn’t focus on any of it. Not Jasper’s visit to Mr. Piggott or her own less-than-ideal trip into Hardholme. Her thoughts were entirely consumed by the simmering tension. The thrilling shimmer of knowledge that when they finally withdrew to their chamber, Jasper was going to take her to bed and make her his own.

His confession to her in the tower had all but assured her of it. Before he’d left for York, she’d given him her conditions. And now he’d met them. He’d told her his secrets. There was no more reason to delay their being together as husband and wife.

When the children were put to bed, she accompanied Jasper to bid the boys good night and to tuck Daisy in. Then, heart thumping hard, Julia allowed him to guide her to their own room.

Once inside, he wasted no time in taking her in his arms.

She clung to him, fingers threading into his hair as his mouth covered hers. His lips were hot and seeking, tasting her as much as kissing her. A heady sensation. It made her insides melt and her knees buckle.

His arms tightened around her in a powerful embrace.

And she didn’t feel nervous any longer. She felt boneless. Breathless. Incapable of doing anything but holding him and kissing him back.

If this is what it was like to be intimate, she had nothing to be afraid of. Jasper was strong and sure of himself. Completely in command of the situation.

Or so she thought.

Only a moment later, it was he who broke the kiss, his breath coming in harsh rasps. He gazed down at her, his gray eyes brilliant with heat.

She brought her hand to cradle his jaw.

He turned his face into her palm, pressing a kiss there.

It was a small gesture. Almost courtly in comparison to the kisses they’d been sharing. The sweetness of it resonated within her, flooding her with a peculiar warmth. Everything at once felt too tight and constrictive. Her corset. Her gown. Her own skin. She was as restless as a wild bird.

He bent his head to hers, nuzzling her cheek, and pressing soft kisses to her lips to soothe her. “You said you wanted to be with me. Is that still true?”

“Yes.”

“I want it, too.” He moved one large hand over the curve of her spine. “But there’s time. We needn’t rush anything.”

“I don’t feel rushed. I feel impatient.”

His mouth tugged into a faint smile. “What would you like me to do about it?”

She flashed him a disgruntled glance. “You don’t know?”

A husky laugh rumbled in his chest. “I do,” he assured her. “Do you?”

She stiffened. Was she supposed to know something? None of the other young ladies of her acquaintance did. Not that she was aware. It was information meant to be imparted by one’s mother—at least, that’s what Mary had claimed. Julia doubted whether her own mama would have taken the trouble. Likely, she’d have left the matter to Julia’s future husband.