Chapter 1

London 1811

She closed the study door behind her and stood in the hall, a picture of mortified shock. A maid dusting gave her no notice. For several minutes she stood there, her mind blank, the sound of the duster only vaguely registering. Something smelled too that she supposed must be some cleaning mixture and, suddenly coming from her daze, she picked up her skirts and ran across the large hall, up the staircase, through a hallway and into her room. She shut the door and walked, slowly, up to her bed. She did not sit on it, it was too soon and the memory alone burned. She held herself up by one of the bed’s posts and took several halting breaths. But the room was stifling and she quitted in determined strides. The dowager duchess was taking her morning tea when Judith entered her chambers but noted her presence with only very mild surprise. Nodding to her abigail who was in the process of pouring another cup of the dark liquid, she patted a spot on her bed. The maid left before Judith acquiesced and she sat there for some time before speaking in a choked voice.

“You knew?”

The dowager, putting her arm around the girl, said nothing. March had not announced his intentions to her – it was not his style – but she had suspected after that last time that he would act. The young duchess’s latest imbroglio would not reach the gossip mills but it had certainly cost his lordship many a guinea to ensure it. And Judith had undoubtedly paid for it as well this morning. Amelia had expected this for two weeks; since the dinner ‘incident’ which had had Judith regarding her son balefully and Julian returning her glares with cold indifference. They had quarreled dreadfully that night; in actuality, Julian had dictated in his usual manner and Judith had, after strained attempts at civility, burst into furious exclamation. And March, who could never countenance raised voices, had said, in that chilly way that was sure to incense, that his wife had better mind herself or he would ensure that she did. She muttered something of his being inhuman and far from enraging my lord it seemed to affect him; he had said in a much warmer tone that he wished that she would not return to Madam Wellings. Now the Madam was the widow of the recently deceased Earl of Winchurch and had, since her husband’s departure of two years, turned what once a respectable household into a ground for every sort of debauchery. The memory of her well respected husband was in fact all that allowed her entrance into some households and even that could not shield her from the combined snub of the elite of London’s ton. And Judith had somehow become associated with the woman. It was an event whose occurrence Amelia must blame on Judith’s brother, the Viscount Everly – a rake if there ever was one – and could she have seen the boy now she would certainly not have scrupled to give him a piece of her mind.

But even March’s request could not sway his impetuous wife and she told him that under no circumstances would she allow him to dictate to her. Something had entered my lords eyes then that looked close to fury – but March never indulged in such so it must have been something else – and he rose, threw his napkin upon the table, and moved to Judith’s chair. Pulling it out he requested in clipped accents that she stand. She, very much in her own ire, refused. “I wish to discuss some things with you, my lady, which would be best said in private.” Amelia recalled his words perfectly and had only just held her tongue which threatened to protest such high-handed behavior. The duchess, flushed with fury, acquiesced and they quit the room in silence.

The dowager was unaware of the particulars of the couple’s discussion but the silence that reigned between them for more than a week after was telling enough. Judith did not leave the house unattended and attendance was only with her stiff husband. And then, only at the beginning of this week, there was a change. Something had occurred between the two that had seemed to erase the past seven days. After one particularly short evening, – the duchess had informed her of her determination to disturb his lordship’s pleasure as he had hers by insisting on leaving every party before even the unfashionably late had made an appearance – several doors were heard slammed and then a marked silence.

The following morning was one of such solicitude between the two, such affection, such telling smiles and looks that the dowager was hard put to recognize her son or her daughter-in-law as the combatants of before. This good feeling had lasted until last evening when the duchess had joined her brother – she had done so without his realization it was certain for it was he who had brought her, much against her will back to the Grosvenor – on one of his frequent haunts to the Madam’s. It had perhaps been a desire for the fast company – her ladyship hoped fervently that it was not – that had drawn her there or some innate need to defy or, as gossips had speculated and Amelia had refused to acknowledge, that she was just doing as blood compelled her. March was informed, by Everly of all people – Amelia almost wished to have been witness to that conversation - and then this.

The duchess stirred beneath her arm and looked up at her with such a wounded expression that it tore at her to nod slowly in accent. Yes, she had as good as known the outcome of such recklessness. Violet eyes turned away from her and stared hard at some point on the blanket. Minutes passed in silence before Judith moved gently but firmly from the dowager’s hold and stood. She gave a barely civil ghost of a curtsey and left the chamber in quick steps. The dowager heard her steps lengthen into strides and knew when such dignity turned into a run. A door was heard and then silence.

--

The duchess was curled in her large bed, several covers about her, several pillows behind her, and one hugged tightly to her. The door opened quietly so she did not notice March’s entrance until he stood before her.

“Do you realize how endearing a picture you present now?” His words were softly said and did not match his angry expression. Judith frowned in reply and her eyes told him to vacate the room. The look somehow amused him and he chuckled slightly before saying, “Yes, even now that you doubtless wish me to perdition, you look too much the angel.” His words were far from being off the mark; Judith was unquestionably a beauty. Fashionably black curls fell unfashionably down her shoulders framing exquisite patrician features, and complementing compelling eyes. Eyes that glowed with intelligence and mischief and now held a wealth of bruised emotion.

“But I have not come to compliment, Judith,” he continued. “Nor I have I come to scold. I have merely come to talk so please remove that petulant expression from your face which only inspires in me a strong desire to beat you.” The last was with a great degree of impatience and Judith with much reluctance lost her pout.

“Thank you. Now, if you will continue to be so good, will please explain to me the events of yesterday?”

The question was surprisingly unexpected and the duchess hesitated many moments before stammering something to the effect of her having already explained this.

“Not to my satisfaction, m’dear and I wish for a full account including what precipitated what can be called both reckless and callous. No, you see, I did not forget your promise.” Judith colored at that last and let her eyes drop from his gray ones. In dark breeches, a frothy white shirt covered by a russet colored jacket and Hessians that could have been mirrors, he was his valet’s pride and joy. Early years in the service showed in an excellent physique as did a predisposition to exercise. What was well known in London – and the other informed parts of England – as the March features were his to claim; a straight, arrogant nose; square, determined chin; dark brown hair with a tint of auburn and those piercing eyes. His handsome yet almost stern features were now deceptively relaxed. It was a deception given away by his unconscious tapping of his crop against his hip.

“Judith.” It was with a warning tone and she responded with much muttering which was all directed at the blankets.

“Look at me.” It was uncompromising and she obeyed. “You gave me your word and I took you for it. I trust you understand how that can no longer be the case. As you will not answer me, now, I will assume your actions came from an indifference to my words and a lack of respect for my wishes and I will treat them as such. You --

“Wait!” Her interruption was somewhat strangled by an up-well of tears which were accompanied by a choking lump in her throat. “I do respect your wish…I mean that I do respect you and oh I wish you wouldn’t say such things when…”

“They are exactly the things you do not wish to hear.” He finished for her. “You have an odd habit of saying you want to please me, Judith, and then doing that which you know I should dislike.”

“I’m sorry –

“No, that will not do today as you have already seen; I will have an explanation, Judith or nothing.” The tapping grew speedier and his eyes had begun to look quite glacial. A minute passed and with a marked stiffness he turned from her and headed for the door.

“No!” The word hung in the silence and the duke halted. He did not turn however but waited.

“I have treated you miserably and you have shown me a side of you I didn’t know. And I am sorry, once more I know, but will it not suffice? I do love –

Julian’s strides where long and there was a savagery in his face that almost frightened my lady but she did not flinch as he joined her on the bed and grasped her forearms in crushing grip. She stared as did he.

“My dove, you have stolen my heart and I feel that you mean to keep it.”

“I feel that I do.” She said slowly.

His mouth was on hers a breath later and he drew her to him in an unbreakable union. She joined eagerly but he would do the kissing, he would be the master here, at least.

It was furious assault and they both emerged breathless and their eyes loathed the separation.

“And I would too well.”

His words were bitter but she would take them.

A/N: Yeah well this is a one shot unless otherwise requested. grin It’s based on a true story (mine) so it borders on the emotional more times than not. Like March? I always wanted a couple called Julian and Judith. By the way, anyone going to Binghamton U this year? I wanna talk to ppl going there. Lol. Alright…I’m leaving. “I’m hot cause I’m fly, you aint cause you’re not. This is why, this is why, this is why I’m hot.” grin

Cheers!

Starox.