Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (231 page)

Lucien's hard gaze followed St Just into the last turn of the waltz. He'd ordered murder done before to get what he wanted. He wouldn't hesitate to see it done again.

Four

H e

made

look the whore last night,' Lucien

bit out crisply over

late the next morning

in the library.

Well, there it was.

had expected as much

when she'd received the note requesting they privately break their fast together, away from the other guests. Lucien was a stickler for propriety. Not one of his more desirable traits. Apparently, he was covetous too. She'd not had reason to notice that before. But no one had ever posed a threat to his claims on her time.

buttered her toast calmly, unbothered by Lucien's pique. 'You can hardly be jealous because I danced with an old friend.' That wasn't to say she was pleased with her behaviour the night before. She had indeed let her guard down

a behaviour

she did not indulge in with anyone. But Valerian's enthusiasm had been contagious and in his arms she'd felt the responsibilities of her world lift for a moment.

62

The Viscount
Claims
His Bride

'Old friend? The word is too tame,' Lucien scoffed, reaching for his coffee. 'I've never danced with the sister of an old friend the way he waltzed with you. He desires you, Philippa. One cannot
not
notice. He makes no effort to hide it. Such behaviour is better suited for a brothel than a ballroom.'

Lucien set his cup down and looked at her squarely.

'St Just needs to understand in specific terms that his attentions are not welcome, even if they were encouraged in the past.'

met his stern gaze evenly, bridling at his insinuations about her virtue. She was the Dowager Duchess of Cambourne. She would not be commanded in such a high-handed fashion. She chose to ignore Lucien's subtle probe into her past. Whatever had transpired between she and Valerian was their business alone. Lucien could speculate all he wanted. She hadn't even told Beldon.

'Are you suggesting I am forbidden to see him?'

This possessiveness was exactly the kind of behaviour she'd been trying to avoid in a relationship with any male acquaintance of her circle since Cambourne's death. She didn't need to take direction from well-meaning men who thought she couldn't manage the reins of her estate or social life on her own. In Lucien, she'd thought she'd found a liberated man who would tolerate her independence.

It had been the basis of her attraction to him.

Lucien had been a welcome friend during a difficult transition period for her. He'd been a loyal escort and adviser when she'd begun rebuilding her social circle after Cambourne's death. She'd believed they

Scott

plemented one another well and had a comfortable companionship between matched intellects and interests.

She'd helped him too in a myriad of ways, like acting the hostess when his busy sister wasn't available. It had been the least she could do in return for the assistance he'd given her throughout the years.

'What right do you have to make such a demand of me?'

flicked him a tight glance.

Lucien's eyes flashed. 'What right? We have been together for years.'

'We are hardly

Lucien,'

warned.

They'd not explicitly talked in such terms before, although it would be unfair to say the issue had not arisen in other ways in the last year.

'Perhaps we should be. Married, that is,' Lucien said coldly.

'Is that a proposal? Your lack of enthusiasm makes it rather hard to tell,'

shot back.

Damn Valerian for this,

thought hotly.

Lucien's proposal, if one could call it that, was all his doing. He had to come rushing in and wreck everything with hot

and knowing caresses,

making her remember the possibilities.

put down her napkin and rose, leaving her toast untouched, but it didn't matter. Her stomach couldn't tolerate a bite of food now. 'I regret to inform you that I have no intention of accepting a proposal articulated with such lacklustre ardour. It bodes ill for the marriage.' She tinged her voice with exaggerated ennui. The sooner she was out of the

64

The Viscount Claims His Bride

room the better. She hoped she made the door before she gave full vent to her temper.

Lucien rose, the glacial calm that usually accompanied his demeanour, melting at her comment. 'My displays of "ardor" have been quite acceptable to you right up until St Just began stealing on the

balcony right under my nose.'

stiffened. How could he have known?

But to accuse him of spying on her would mean admitting he had the right of it. She turned to face Lucien before sweeping into the hallway. 'You've shown yourself in a poor light this morning, Lucien.

Jealousy does not become you.'

Wrapped in a heavy wool cloak against the damp weather,

stormed out to the gardens. No

one else was about in such inclement weather. She was glad for it. She would make terrible company.

She would be hard pressed to behave politely when all her thoughts were focused on less than polite behaviour.

Valerian and Lucien were worse than two stallions in season fighting over a mare and now Lucien had proposed, no doubt prompted by his sense of honour and apparently the belief that she needed protection from the likes of Valerian. In the three years of their association, Lucien had never once pressed her for a discreet affair. There had been nothing beyond a few private, dry