“And now you have a dozen boys who are your own, a dozen boys who are unlikely ever to be taken away.”
She nodded, relieved that he finally seemed to understand. “And I don’t want to lose a single one.” Not ever again.
To her surprise, he reached over and cupped her cheek. She wanted to lean into his touch, to rub her cheek along the rough pads of his fingers. She wanted him to kiss her again until she forgot all about the leaking roof and the woman with the knife and the image of Davy’s scared face when he was torn away from her.
“Listen to me, Juliana. I want what you want, but I know something about boys. In particular, I know something about orphaned boys. I wasn’t an orphan, but I know what it is to wonder where you belong and to search for your place.”
She tried to draw back, uncertain what he would say and whether she wished to hear it. He took her shoulders and held her so he could look into her face. “These boys want to belong. Even if it means belonging to a gang of thieves. Even if it means taking orders from a man like Slag.”
“But they can belong here. I’ve made a home for them.”
He nodded. “Yes, you have, but all you can do is offer that home. You cannot force them to accept it. Some of these boys have never known what you are offering—warmth, security, and love. They only know fear and intimidation and following a man who would as soon kill them as pat them on the back. You may need to give up some of these boys to save the rest.”
“No!” She stood and backed away from him. Why had she thought he understood? He didn’t understand anything at all. “I won’t give up on Billy or Walter or any of them. I love them.” And though she hated him at the moment, she wouldn’t give up on Neil either. Because he had found a way into her heart, and she loved him enough to know that she would be devastated when he left.
Neil stood. “And would you allow Billy to stay and corrupt James and Chester and little Charlie?”
Julia’s heart thumped quickly. He knew the boys’ names. He pretended he did not, but he knew them. He knew all of them.
“Because that’s what he will do. Slag is gone, but another will take his place. Men like him are as abundant as fleas in the rookeries. Billy will find another upright man, and one of his first tasks will be to recruit other boys. Because if there’s one thing a gang needs, it’s a steady stream of thieves to replace the ones who are sent to prison.”
Julia wanted to argue again, but she knew he was right. And still she wasn’t ready to let Billy go so easily. “What do you want me to do?” she asked quietly.
Neil crossed to her and took her arms in his hands. His touch was so warm, so warm that she wanted to walk forward and put her arms around his waist and just let him hold her, wrap her in that warmth. Instead, she stood completely still. Finally, when the silence had dragged on for some time, she lifted her eyes to his.
“I want you to trust me.”
*
Neil saw the conflict in her face. She wanted to trust him, but she had not trusted anyone in so long that she rebelled against the idea of putting her faith in him. In many ways, she was like a new soldier—still learning to trust the commanding officer. Unlike a soldier, she had a choice. She was no meek, biddable female who would jump to follow his commands. She had her own mind and her own plans. He could only offer advice and hope she would take it.
At least that was the attitude he should have had. But for whatever reason, gaining her trust meant more to him than he wanted to admit. He’d been trying to gain it since the first day he met her.
And now, they were alone, and all the boys she loved so much were asleep. And he wanted her trust in an entirely different way.
“Do you trust me?” he murmured.
Her eyes widened at the low timbre of his voice. He hadn’t bothered to hide his desire in the way he looked at her or in the way he spoke.
“I want to,” she whispered.
“Then perhaps all you need is more practice.” He slowly lowered his mouth toward her soft, plump lips, giving her ample time to turn her face away. She didn’t, and when he brushed his lips over hers, he felt the same charge of heat he’d felt the first time he kissed her. Neil had to resist grasping the back of her neck and taking her mouth the way he wanted. Instead, he kept the kiss slow and light, moving his hands up and down her arms until she stepped closer and wrapped them around his neck.
And still he teased her mouth with his, nipping and licking and suckling her lips. She had such delectable lips and she had cleaned her teeth with tooth powder that tasted faintly of mint. She pushed closer to him, and he needed to touch her skin and to see her in the flimsy night rail he had been fantasizing about since he’d first laid eyes on it.
He ran his hands up her back, then up into her loose hair, brushed until it fairly crackled. His hands stroked down her neck and then pushed into the robe, easing it back and over her shoulders. He was prepared to pause and unknot the sash, but she had not tied it tightly, and the silky garment slid from her shoulders like a cascade of water.
And then his hands were on the bare skin of her shoulders and her neck, and he wanted the soft weight of her breasts in his hands.
But first he wanted a look at her body in the lacy night rail. Reluctantly, he lifted his fingers from her skin and took a step back. Her face was flushed, her hair falling over her shoulders, and her eyes closed. He could have admired that picture of her all day, especially the pinkness of her swollen lips. Those lips needed to be kissed daily.
She opened her eyes, and they were darker than he’d ever seen them, filled with desire for him.
“I want to see you,” he said, voice low and husky.
She blinked, slow and uncomprehending.
“Step back. I’ve been imagining you in that for days. I want to see the real thing.”
Her cheeks turned even pinker, red spots staining the centers. “You have seen it.”
“Bits and pieces,” he said. When she still didn’t move back, he ran a hand down her hair. “You are beautiful, Juliana. I only want to see you in all your glory.”
“I don’t know why I should feel so shy,” she said, ducking her head. “You’ve already seen… That is to say, I’ve never been overly modest before. You should have seen some of the ball gowns I’ve worn.”
He wished he had seen them and her in them. Though he would never be the sort of man who accompanied her to a Society ball, he wished he had known that part of her. Still, it would be no hardship to content himself with the woman she had become. Neil had known many soldiers who wore fancy dress and gleaming brass buttons. But when all the finery was stripped away and the cannons were firing and the men charging, it was the man underneath who mattered.
“Silks and flounces don’t impress me,” he told her. “I’ve already seen what lies beneath them. What is at the heart of who you are.”
Her head notched up.
“And I know you are as beautiful inside as you are on the outside.”
Her gaze met his, and though her color was still high, she stepped back and twirled around. The garment was made of expensive lace at the bodice. Neil supposed the lace had some sort of name, but he didn’t know it. Her sister must have been slightly smaller than she, for the bodice fit her tightly, her breasts swelling over the low neckline. The sides of the garment were held together by pink ribbons—three of them—that had been tied in pretty bows. More ribbons donned the lacy sleeves and the waistline. The skirt of the night rail was not lace, but it had been made of thin, almost-translucent silk. He could see the coppery curls of her womanhood and the outline of her buttocks when she turned.
It was the sort of garment that would make a new husband lose his breath, and Neil felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. He swallowed and attempted to tamp down the lust threatening to overwhelm his judgment, but then she faced him again, and his eyes were drawn to the dark pink of her nipples and aureoles against the white of the lace.