Never Less Than a Lady by Mary Jo Putney

assured him. “I’m not sure I like marriage as much.”
    “Samuel Johnson said a second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience,” Kirkland said. “Where would we be without hope? Randall can be prickly, but he’s one of the most perceptive men I know, and his loyalty is absolute.”
    “So I have found. I’m fortunate.” She smiled wryly. “He is less so.”
    “Doubt is natural when contemplating such a major step, but I think you might suit rather well.” A knock on the door announced the entry of a maid, who entered with Julia’s modest bag of belongings and a pitcher of steaming water. Kirkland headed for the door. “I shall see you downstairs when you are ready.”
    After Kirkland and the maid left, Julia poured water into the basin and began to wash up. So one of Randall’s old friends thought he and Julia would suit? Perhaps hope really would triumph over experience.

Chapter 11
    By the time Randall finished writing the letter that would help release Julia from their marriage, he judged that she’d had sufficient time to freshen up. He crossed the hall and tapped on the door, identifying himself. His leg ached some from the long, hard day of travel, but he needed the cane much less today.
    He entered when Julia called permission. Even in her worn, ill-fitting gown, his bride looked thoroughly delectable. The shining chestnut hair that fell past her shoulders was a good deal better than passable, and her delicate features and flawless complexion made him want to touch.
    In fact, he wanted rather intensely to cross the room and take her in his arms, but her withdrawn expression made it clear that she was not in the mood. The fact that she had invited him into her bedroom without hesitation was progress enough for this day. “I’m just across the hall. Near, yet too far.”
    She gave a swift smile. “We really can’t sleep together here since we’re not precisely married. I hope the night isn’t too cold.”
    “Two or three more days and we’ll be legal in the eyes of the world.” Even though they’d only shared a bed for two nights, tonight he would miss having her there. He handed her the letter he had just written. “As you requested.”
    She unfolded the paper and scanned the brief lines. “Very good. Thank you.” Expression unreadable, she set the letter aside and began pinning back her hair. He hoped that after they were married, she might consider a less austere style.
    “I didn’t know Will Masterson had a brother,” she remarked.
    “Mac is the daughter of an actress, and the reason why Will ended up at Westerfield,” Randall explained.
    “I’ve wondered about that,” she said, her hands moving swiftly as she tamed her hair into severity. “It’s easy to see why the rest of your lot were sent to a school for difficult boys, but it’s hard to imagine Will as a serious troublemaker.”
    “Mac’s mother died when he was quite young, so he was sent to his father’s house where Lord Masterson could decide what to do with him,” Randall explained. “Will, who is a couple of years older, became very attached to his little brother. I think their father would have preferred to send Mac to a foster home where he could be forgotten, but Will wouldn’t allow that. He refused to go away to school unless Mac could come, too. As you say, Will isn’t a troublemaker by nature.”
    “Unlike you,” Julia said with that quick smile again.
    “Unlike me,” Randall agreed, amused. “But he can be quite remarkably stubborn. Lord Masterson wasn’t keen on sending his bastard to a fashionable school like Eton or Harrow, so the Westerfield Academy was a good alternative.”
    “Mr. Mackenzie was fortunate to have Will for a champion.” Julia ruthlessly pinned down the last dark waves. “But he seemed rather disrespectful about his brother. Flippant.”
    “That’s just Mac. He would give his life for Will without a second thought. Mocking all the way.” Randall offered his arm.