The Abduction of Julia (11 page)

“I think… you should…” She swallowed and he watched, mesmerized by the movement of her graceful throat.

“I should what?” he asked, lifting a finger to trace the fall of a curl across her ear.

Julia closed her eyes and shivered.

Alec leaned closer so his breath fanned her cheek, her mouth. “Should what, love? Tell me.”

A moan slid from her lips and then she fixed her gaze on his. Naked desire stirred in the black velvet centers, the verdant green eclipsed by passion. “Kiss me,” she whispered unevenly.

Desire, hot and sugary, flooded his veins. Without another thought, he pulled her closer until the flowers from her bonnet halted him. He cursed, loosening the ribbons with impatient fingers. Finally freed, he dropped the offending hat to the ground and claimed her mouth with his.

Her generous mouth parted beneath his. She moaned and he took advantage of the moment to touch his tongue to hers. She gasped and would have pulled back, but he held her tight and deepened the kiss until she clung to him, breathless with desire. He slid his hands into her tousled hair.

Just as he remembered, the strands slipped through his fingers like heavy silk. He sank his hands into the honey brown curls, scattering pins and loosening tendrils. The silken strands clung to his fingers and urged him on.

She clutched him closer, her arms twined about his neck, her hands gripping urgently. He molded her lithe curves against him, savoring the feel of her firm body as he plundered the heat of her mouth. She surged against him in an unconscious motion that nearly destroyed him.

Alec ran his hands over her back, her hips, and lower. God, she was made for him, fitting against him as if some higher hand had crafted her curves to meld perfectly. A deep moan escaped her parted lips and he captured it, tasting her passion, reveling in her sweetness.

Through a barrage of uncontrolled desire, he was vaguely aware of a door opening. With heartrending clarity, Burroughs announced, “The Duke of Wexford.”

With a muffled curse, Alec broke the embrace and thrust Julia behind him. His cravat was ruined, his coat crumpled, and his desire agonizingly obvious against the smooth outline of his breeches. Damn Luce from now until eternity.

Burroughs choked and quickly removed himself from the room, his ears suspiciously red.

“Dear me,” Lucien drawled, smiling like a cat facing a barrel of cream. “It appears the viscount and
viscountess are
occupied.”

“So nice of you to stop by,” Alec ground out through clenched teeth, trying to still his racing heart. His body thrummed with heat. Behind him, he could hear Julia’s hurried breath as she attempted to put her hair to rights.

He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He was a man who took his pleasures lightly.
A man who enjoyed numerous dalliances with women who understood the ultimate goal of his flirtations.
He eschewed the company of innocents the way some men ran from sin. Yet here he was, panting after his virginal wife like a love-smitten youth.

Lucien sauntered across the room, his eyes glowing with amusement. “I came to pay my respects to the lovely bride.”

Alec risked a glance at Julia. Color stained her cheeks, and though she had retrieved most of her pins, one fat, satiny curl trailed over her shoulder. A stab of pure, hot lust ran through him at the sight of her kiss-swollen mouth. Unable to do more, he glared at Lucien.

The duke captured Julia’s hand. “Since your husband refuses to make a proper introduction, I fear it rests on me to atone for his rudeness.” He bowed, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “My Lady Hunterston, you probably don’t remember, but I met you at—”

‘The Melroses’ dinner party.
I remember it well
,“
she said, her voice still breathless. She pulled free, swallowing nervously. ”Would you care to join us for tea, Your Grace
?“

“I would be delighted.” Lucien’s hard gaze lingered with appreciation on her mouth.

Alec scowled and reached for Julia. As soon as his fingers touched the coolness of hers, she snatched her hand away and cast a glance of such longing toward the door that he heard himself say, “Perhaps you should inform Burroughs we shall need some tea.”

She nodded thankfully.
“Of course.
Pray excuse me.” Bobbing a quick curtsey, she slipped quietly from the room.

Lucien retrieved the discarded bonnet from the floor.
“My, my.
And to think I was even feeling sorry for you.”

“Shut up, Wexford. Why are you here?”

“A bit out of sorts, are you? I don’t wonder. It is difficult to pull back from the edge of passion, just as—”

“Lucien.” The warning in his tone was unmistakable.

The duke chuckled.
“Very well.
I will cease teasing you until you are in a better frame of mind. Judging from the bounty displayed in the foyer, I take it you’ve been shopping.” He sauntered to the settee and perched on the arm, setting the hat on his knee. “Did Julia purchase finery to her heart’s content?”

“If she had, we’d have been home hours ago. She didn’t see the need to purchase anything.” The ache in his groin subsided to a dull throb.

“Not an ounce of vanity to her, is there?”

“No, I had to remind her of the codicil a dozen times just to get her to buy even the most necessary items.”

“You are a fortunate man. Imagine taking Therese on just such a venture.”

Alec grimaced.

“Exactly.”
The duke flicked a careless finger at the flowers adorning the hat. “By the way, Edmund and I stopped by White’s this morning.”

“Did you?”

“Hmmm. Nick was there. He was everything affable. I mentioned how pleased I was at your wedding.”

“And was he surprised?”

“ ‘Dumbfounded’
would be a better term.” Lucien pulled his quizzing glass free and examined the fake sprig of cherries. “Of course, I embellished the story a bit.”

“Whatever for?”

“People might sneer at Julia if they thought she was anything less than your first choice as wife. I hinted…” Lucien lifted his gaze. “Just hinted, mind you, that you and Julia had a longstanding attachment.”

“Did anyone believe you?”

“Everyone but Nick.”

“I told you he was not the fop you take him for.”

Lucien opened his mouth to reply but Burroughs reentered the room. With painful dignity, the butler announced, “Lady Birlington and Lord Valmont.”

“Damnation,” said Lucien under his breath. He stood, setting the bonnet on the table. “I told that fool to wait until we had time to set Julia to rights.”

Alec swallowed his irritation and turned his attention to the lady who swept across the threshold. Angular and imposing, Lady Maddie Birlington dominated the parlor as she did every room she chose to enter. It wasn’t just her towering height, but the sheer force of a personality well used to gaining its own way.

She jabbed her gold-encrusted cane at Burroughs’ feet.
“You there!
See to my nephew. He is gathering my things from the carriage.”

The butler bowed.
“Of course, madam.”
He cast a telling glance at Alec before leaving the room.

Lady Birlington advanced. Her morning dress fluttered about her in fashionable purple and lavender folds. Her hair, an improbable shade of red, curled from beneath a startling violet-colored turban. Shrewd blue eyes narrowed on Alec.

“Well, Hunterston?” she said ungraciously. “Aren’t you going to welcome me? Not that I expect such courtesy, but it’s damned uncomfortable standing so near this drafty doorway.”

“Pray come in, Lady Birlington. It is a pleasure to see you again.” Alec was allowed to kiss her hand before she limped past him.

She settled on the settee, her back as straight as a board,
then
raised her thin brows. “Well? Why did you wish to see me?”

Before Alec could reply, Edmund trailed into the room. His arms overflowed with shawls, a tasseled pillow, lavender gloves, and a small, wheezing pug. The young man fixed Alec with a desperate gaze. “Sorry, but I couldn’t convince her—”

“Don’t be silly, Edmund!” Maddie interrupted. “I’m sure Hunterston knows what’s toward. He’s not such an idiot as you. Put Ephram by the fire.”

Edmund grimaced, but did as instructed, settling the dog on the pillow despite the fact that the animal tried to bite him several times.

Lady Birlington cooed at the dog, “There, there, precious angel. Sleep until we get to the bottom of this mystery.” Satisfied the dog was comfortable, her gimlet gaze flicked from Alec to Lucien.
“Ah, Wexford.”

The duke bowed.
“How wonderful to see you, madam.
May I say you look beyond compare, as
usual.
”

She waved a dismissive hand, though a pleased smirk curved her mouth. “Save your Canterbury tales for your lightskirts. What are you doing here?”

“I am a frequent visitor at Hunterston House.”

“Seems too respectable of a place for you.
Not a gaming hell by night, is it?”

Lucien’s mouth twitched. “No, but I intend to visit one or two before the morrow.”

“Ha! Spoken like a real man. Did you hear that, Edmund? No mealy-mouthed platitudes from him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied her nephew miserably, sinking into a chair with his burdens.

“You could learn a lot from Hunterston here, as well.” She gestured to Alec with her cane. “He reminds me of your great uncle.”

“Oh, God,” muttered Edmund, clapping a hand over his eyes.

The old woman ignored him. “Daresay you don’t remember. Uncle Timothy was before your time. But it was a cold Sunday in August that you didn’t find him without at least two incognitas perched on his knee.
Quite a man for the ladies.
At least, he was before he drank himself into a hole.”

“Thank you,” Alec said with what he hoped was a properly meek expression. “You are most gracious.”

Maddie gave a bark of laughter. “No, I’m not. But then, that’s one of the few virtues of being old.” She placed her hands on the cane’s gold knob and leaned forward. “What do you want, Hunterston? All I could get from my silly grand nephew was that you needed my help.”

Alec bowed. “I’m pleased you—”

“Poppy seeds.
You may well wish me to the devil before we’re through.” She poked Edmund’s foot with her cane. “Bring me a shawl. It’s cold enough in here to freeze the Thames.”

She waited until he scrambled to settle a startling red and gold shawl about her lavender-clad shoulders before turning back to Alec. “I’d have thought you could afford a decent fire, now that you’ve inherited that fortune everyone is gabbing about.”

“Grandfather was very generous.”

Her gaze softened ever so slightly. “John was very fond of you.”

“I know.” However misguided his grandfather’s attempts to secure his happiness, Alec never doubted the old man had cared for him in his way.

Silence reigned until Edmund blurted, “We might as well go ahead and ask her. Aunt Maddie, Alec needs your help with a problem. Not that Julia is a problem.
At least, not exactly.
She’s more of an inconvenience.” He caught Alec’s scowl and flushed. “I mean, not an inconvenience at all, but—”

“What happened, Hunterston? Get some girl in trouble? Not a serving maid, was it?” When Edmund made a choking noise, she scowled. “If it’s not that, then what is it? Spit it out, one of you. Never met such a bunch of velvet mouths in my whole life.”

Alec stepped forward. “Lady Birlington, I was hoping you could assist my wife.”

“Don’t tell me you married that gel with that ungodly French name.”

“No, I married her cousin, Julia. She is an American.”

A look of supreme distaste crossed Maddie’s face. “Good God! No wonder you need my help.
Most stubborn people in the world, Americans.
Don’t care what anyone says, they have no finesse.”

“Exactly,” interjected Lucien smoothly. “What Julia needs is polishing.” A smile curved his mouth. “In fact, Hunterston here was attempting to do just that when I arrived.”

Heat crept up Alec’s neck and spread to his ears. He cast a fulminating stare at the duke before turning to Lady Birlington. “It is a requirement of my grandfather’s will that Julia and I reside within society for a year without a scandal. We need your assistance.”

“Ask Edmund’s mother. Smart gel, Eugenia, though you’d never know it to see the lummox she married,” the old woman said ungraciously.

“No, Julia needs you. She is… unusual.”

“Unusual? She hasn’t got three heads or the like, has she?”

“Aunt Maddie,” Edmund said, scandalized. “Of course Alec’s wife doesn’t have three heads!”

Maddie looked disappointed. “Well, you never know. I saw a man at a fair once that had two heads. No use in that. Now if he’d had two p—”

“Please!” interrupted Edmund in a strangled voice. “Alec was speaking of his
wife
.”

“I know what he was saying, you empty-headed dolt!” She stared down her nose at her great nephew until he tugged uneasily at his cravat. Then she turned her gaze to Alec. “Tell me about this chit. Is she pretty?”

He hesitated before answering.
“No, but there is an undeniable quality to her.”

“Quality?
Then what’s she doing with you?”

That stung. Julia
was
far better than he deserved, but he’d freeze in hell before he’d admit that to this outspoken old woman. “Julia and I reached an agreement.”

“Didn’t compromise her, did you?”

“Of course he didn’t,” said Edmund loyally. “Julia’s a reformer.”

“Eh?”

“I said,” said Edmund, speaking more loudly, “Julia’s a reformer.”

Maddie stared at him until he turned beet red. “You know,” she said with painful clarity, “you remind me more and more of your father every day.”

Edmund opened and closed his mouth.

Alec took the opportunity to turn the topic back to Julia. “Lady Hunterston feels very strongly about helping others. She’s the most generous person I know.”