Scandalous Liaisons (20 page)

He was extremely disappointed when it came time for Julienne to bid farewell. Lucien escorted her to her mount and watched her until she rode out of sight, accompanied by her maid and two of his mother’s groomsmen.

When he reentered the parlor, he saw his parents, arms around each other, looking out the window. Amanda turned her head to look at him. “We really like her, Lucien.”

He smiled. “Everyone does.”

She walked over to her escritoire and returned with a letter. “Look at her acceptance of my invitation to tea. So gracious and sweet. The king could not have received a more respectful response.”

Lucien glanced down at the missive and nodded. “She has a way of making people feel worthy.”

“She adores you. She’s too innocent to hide it.”

His grin widened. “She’s looked at me in that fashion since the moment I laid eyes on her.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And I’ve been a complete idiot where she’s concerned from the very beginning. I’ve said and done things I deeply regret.”

“You’re in love, son,” commiserated Magnus. “It makes fools of all men.”

You’re in love
.

“I’m not—” Lucien began, and then he fell silent, frowning.

His father arched a brow. His mother smiled.

Damn it, was he in love? A man would know if such a thing happened to him, wouldn’t he?

But . . . perhaps . . . Perhaps what he felt wasn’t lust at all. Though that had to be part of it, or maybe it was because of it. Who could tell? He certainly couldn’t—he’d never been in love before.

Still, love would explain his odd behavior—his strange and unaccountable anger, his jealousy, and his inability to be aroused by any other woman. Love could be the reason why he thought of her all the time, why he missed her unbearably, why he dreamed of her every night.

He
loved
Lady Julienne La Coeur.

Lucien’s hand gripped the back of a nearby chair for support.

“Goodness, Glass,” his mother scolded as she took in his condition. “You have no tact. You don’t just thrust a revelation like that on someone. Can’t you see Lucien’s in shock?”

“How in hell can a man not know when he’s in love?” Magnus complained.

Amanda shook her head.

Lucien laughed, an odd, slightly wondering chuckle. “I
do
love her,” he breathed. “All these weeks of torture, and we could have been together.”

“Why don’t you simply tell her how you feel?” Amanda asked.

“I will.” He firmed his resolve. “And I’ll prove it to her.”

“You don’t have a lot of time,” Magnus pointed out. “Fontaine is champing at the bit.”

Lucien grit his teeth. “I know. But Julienne promised me she would keep him waiting until the end of the Season.”

“That’s only a few weeks away,” his mother reminded. “You mustn’t lose her, Lucien. You’ll regret it forever.”

“Don’t worry, Mother.” He hadn’t achieved his success through good fortune. He’d worked hard for it, and he would work hard for Julienne. “I won’t.”

“You must be bored stiff.”

Julienne looked up from her book and hid a smile. Curled up in a settee in Lucien’s office, she watched him surreptitiously while he worked. “What gave you that impression?” she asked.

He was in the middle of purchasing a mill, which would be the cornerstone of several new ventures, and the acquisition was taking up all of his time. She hadn’t seen him in two days and finally decided to simply show up unannounced at Remington’s. By bringing her abigail with her, she’d deflected any suspicion on Aunt Eugenia and Hugh’s parts, and she’d snuck in through the kitchens to avoid being seen. Lucien came for her immediately, dispatching her maid for a tour of the establishment before taking Julienne to his office. She had insisted he work, apologizing profusely for disturbing him, despite his assurances that her interruption was welcome.

“You’re too quiet,” he said. “And I’m certain you didn’t come here to watch me work.”

Lucien had removed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Something about his casualness and absorption in his task made her hot. The sight of his bare forearms and strong hands made her ache. The way he muttered over contracts filled her with contentment. After years of watching Hugh struggle with money, she admired Lucien’s easy handling of it. A “domesticated pirate” is what Fontaine had called him. Julienne agreed and found it thrilling.

“I quite enjoy watching you work,” she murmured.

“Is that so?” Lucien grinned and set aside his quill. “I quite enjoy having you here. I wasn’t certain I could accomplish much with you so close at hand, but actually I find your presence quite stimulating.”

“That’s because you’re a scoundrel.”

Leaning back in his chair, he asked, “How are things progressing with Fontaine?”

Julienne shrugged. “Yesterday he took me to the Royal Academy of Art. He wishes to ask Montrose permission to pay his addresses and asked if I was open to his interest.”

Lucien stiffened.
Not yet.
“What did you say, my love?”

She picked restlessly at her skirt. “I asked him if he loved me.”

Lucien swallowed hard. “And how did he reply?”

“He believes he can grow to love me, given the time.”

“Did you tell him you would accept his suit?”

Julienne met his gaze with a reproving frown. “You know I would not be here with you if I had. I asked him to wait until the end of the Season, as you and I discussed.”

“He must have been curious as to your reasons.”

“Of course. I told him there was the possibility that someone I cared for could grow to love me as well, and I wanted to allow the other man sufficient opportunity to do so.”

“Bloody hell,” Lucien muttered, with a rueful laugh. “I’ve always loved your honesty, but for Christ’s sake, did you have to be so blunt with him? No man wants to hear he’s running in second place.” He grinned suddenly. “But finding out he’s first is very pleasant.”

“I told him he shouldn’t settle for anything less than love either. He admired my honesty and agreed to respect my wishes.” She bit her bottom lip. “He did say he would put up a fight.”

Lucien was tempted to reveal his feelings, but feared Julienne would think he was only trying to outmaneuver Fontaine. So instead he rose from his desk and locked the door. He moved to sit beside her and took her hands in his. “Sweetheart, any man would fight for you.
I
intend to fight for you.”

She gave him an arch look. “It’s extremely disheartening to know that the two men who wish to marry me find falling in love with me such a chore.”

“Sometimes it takes a man a while to realize he’s found what he didn’t even know he was looking for.”

“Ha,” she scoffed. “Pretty it up all you like. It will not change the cold, hard facts.”

Lucien pulled her hand to his throbbing erection. “It’s definitely hard, love.” He grinned. “But it’s not cold.”

Julienne’s eyes widened just before she laughed with delight. “Lucien Remington, you are without a doubt the most lascivious man I have ever met.”

He pressed his lips to her throat. “That’s partly your fault. You tempt me constantly, and it’s been a while since I last found any relief.”

“Shall I relieve you, darling?” she asked in a breathless whisper. “I would love to.” She gave his cock a firm squeeze.

“Jesus.” Lucien buried his face in her neck with a tortured groan. “You are perfect for me. Surely you see that.”

“I’m not the one you have to convince.” She placed her hands against his chest and pressed him backward, crawling over him with a playful glint in her dark eyes. “But allow me to give you some added things to consider.”

“Such as?”

“Such as how the sight of you at your desk makes my heart race.”

He arched a brow.

“And the way you look with your shirtsleeves rolled up.” She licked her bottom lip. “Why, it inspires positively carnal feelings in me.”

“Carnal feelings?” His eyes widened, even as his cock swelled further. Lord above, how he loved this woman.

“Yes.” Cool fingertips brushed his hair back from his face. “And your hair. I just love it. It’s thick and soft like spun silk.”

Just as she stretched her body along his, someone tried the knob and then knocked on the door. “Mr. Remington?”

“Go away!” he growled, “if you’d like to remain employed.” Lucien raised his head to capture Julienne’s lips, slipping his tongue between them to taste her sweetness.

There was a weighted pause. “Yes, sir, but Lord Fontaine respectfully requests a moment of your time.”

Julienne slid off of him in an instant. Lucien glanced at the door and saw the dark outline of his secretary through the oval-shaped watered glass.

“Good heavens! What does he want?” She glanced down at him. “And what horrid timing.”

“Fontaine is a damned nuisance,” he complained.

“Hush, or he’ll hear you.” She bent over and picked up her book. Before she could turn away, he grabbed her wrist and drew her to him, kissing her with deep possessiveness.

“Umm . . . Mr. Remington . . . sir?” inquired the secretary hesitantly.

“Give me one damned bloody minute!” he yelled.

“Of course, sir,” came the obviously shaken voice.

“What a horrid temper you have, Lucien Remington,” Julienne teased as she opened the hidden panel in the wall. She stopped before she made her way upstairs. “You know, one of these days I would like to see your home. Your taste is excellent, I would wager it’s one of the finest in London.”

Lucien ran a hand through his hair to restore some order to the disheveled locks. “Marry me, and my home will be yours.” He gestured around him. “Everything I have can be yours.”

“It’s your heart I want.” She blew him a kiss before she shut the panel behind her.

Taking a deep breath, Lucien unlocked the door and returned to his desk. The flushed secretary came in bearing Fontaine’s card, and a moment later returned with Lord Fontaine.

As the marquess entered, Lucien reluctantly admitted that the peer was a formidable opponent for Julienne’s hand. Fontaine radiated aristocratic privilege from every pore. Tall, with the light-footed grace of a predatory cat, he had an austere, golden beauty. Dressed in light taupe trousers, with matching striped silk waistcoat and brown jacket, he was an impressive sight.

Fontaine settled into a chair and glanced around Lucien’s office. “Impressive, Mr. Remington.”

“What can I do for you, my lord? I was”—he paused a moment in delicious remembrance—“wrapped up in something important.”

“So I gathered,” the marquess drawled, with caustic amusement. “I shall get to the point straight away.”

“I wish you would.”

Fontaine crossed his ankle over his knee, settling into the chair with casual arrogance. “I’m here to pay Lord Montrose’s debt to your club.”

Lucien kept his face impassive as he rose and went to the sideboard. “Care for a brandy?”

“Thank you,” Fontaine said. “I would.”

Lucien poured two rations. “Did Montrose send you?”

Fontaine took the offered snifter before answering. “No, but I will have to settle the debt eventually. I would rather see to it now.”

Lucien resumed his seat and spun his snifter slowly between his hands. “It is not your responsibility.”

“You’ve never quibbled before, Remington. I have it on good authority that you will take a payment on a debt from anyone.” Fontaine’s voice turned derisive. “Just so long as you get paid.”

Lucien tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment. He wasn’t a fool. Money was money, and he never turned it down, especially when it was his own being returned to him. “This situation is different. I’ve already made arrangements with Montrose. Your assistance is not required, nor is it welcome.”

Fontaine’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you so eager to hold his debt?”

“Why are you so eager to pay it?”

“I’m marrying his sister, Lady Julienne. I want Montrose’s finances to be in order so Julienne feels free to marry without worrying about her brother’s affairs.”

“Ah,” Lucien murmured, with a tight smile. “Shall we be honest? You
hope
to marry Lady Julienne, and you wish to pay off Montrose’s debt so she feels
obligated
to marry you.”

Fontaine stiffened the instant before he downed his brandy in one swallow. He set his empty glass on the edge of Lucien’s desk. “You are the other gentleman she referred to, are you not?”

“I am.”

“Are you attempting to buy a highborn bride with a gentleman’s debt?”

“I’m not buying anything. I have no hold on Julienne other than her affection for me.”

The marquess snorted. “If you had any care for her at all, you would want her to marry someone of her station. Her feelings for you will ruin her life, and you know it.”

“Spare me your aristocratic entitlement,” Lucien bit out. “I can give her everything you can except for your blasted title. I can assure you, my love for her will more than make up for that.”

Fontaine’s crossed ankle began to flex rhythmically in agitation. “Well, well. I have always acknowledged your excellent taste, Remington. I see it extends to all areas of your life. But you fail to see that with my title come privileges like social acceptance and respect. Doors will slam shut in her face if she weds you. Will your love be enough to soothe her pride when that happens?”

“Will your title soothe her loneliness when you’re warming another woman’s bed?” he retorted.

Fontaine flushed.

The two men eyed each other carefully before Fontaine spoke. “I’ll make taking her away from me as difficult as possible, Remington.”

“I would expect nothing less. But don’t forget, Lady Julienne is a very intelligent woman. She will decide what is best for her without any help from either of us.” Lucien gestured toward the door. “I think we’re done here.”

Fontaine stood. “She deserves to be a marchioness, with all the power that comes with that station.”

“She deserves to be loved. Good day, my lord.”

“Good day, Remington.”

Lucien released a deep breath as soon as the door closed behind his nemesis. His entire body was taut with the primitive instinct to protect what was his. Julienne was his. She loved
him
. And at this very moment, she waited for him upstairs. He wanted to go to her and claim her in the most basic way possible. To brand her as his so that no other man could ever have her.

With a sudden ferocious movement, Lucien pushed away from his desk and strode to the door. “I’ll be unavailable for the rest of the day,” he informed his secretary, then he closed the portal and took the hidden hallway to his suite of rooms upstairs.

As he entered the Sapphire Room, most of his tension fled. Julienne was there, in his element. A small fire lit the chamber. Although it wasn’t cold, it added a cheery atmosphere and bathed her in a soft glow. He wanted this welcoming scene greeting him every day for the rest of his life. He wanted to take her to his home, to make love to her in his bed, to wake up with the scent of her on his skin and her hair spread across his chest. His very soul ached for her.

“The colors of this room suit you,” she said softly, her gaze soft and adoring, just as it always was when she looked at him. “Your beautiful eyes glow.”

His mouth curved in a warm smile. “That’s because I’m looking at you.”

Her answering smile was fleeting. “What did Lord Fontaine want?”

“He wanted to pay off your brother’s debt. When I refused his money, he guessed my involvement with you.”

Julienne took a deep breath. “I see.”

“Don’t worry. He still wants you.”

“I’m not worried,” she denied, and then she dropped her head. “Well, perhaps that’s not entirely true. He’s been kind. I think, had I not met you first, I would have been content to spend my life at his side. It’s not his fault my affections are engaged elsewhere.”

Lucien leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms. “I want to pay off all of your brother’s markers. No strings attached.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I want you to decide between Fontaine and me with your heart, not with your brother’s welfare in mind. I’ll have my solicitor draw up documents stating all the debts are paid, regardless of which one of us you wed.” His voice lowered and throbbed with emotion. “I would give up everything I have, Julienne, to give you a choice.”

“No.” Julienne rose from her chair. “I don’t want you to do that. It isn’t money that will decide my mind.”

Lucien remained by the door with the greatest of effort. “If I told you I loved you, would you believe me?”

“Lucien . . .”

“Haven’t you wondered why your brother has allowed me to see you?”

“Well, yes . . .”

“Extortion.”

Julienne blinked.