The Abduction of Julia (33 page)

Edmund shook his head.
“Just a card.
Nothing special.”

“Read it.”

A slow flush lifted in Edmund’s cheeks. “I already did. No need to read it again. I remember exactly what it says.”

Alec glared.
“Edmund.”

The harassed young man cast a wild glance at Lucien.

Lucien shrugged. “Read it. He’ll pummel it out of you if you don’t.”

Edmund wiped a hand across his damp face and slowly pulled the card free. He cleared his throat and read aloud.
“S.W.W. Servant Referral Service.
All experienced and highly trained. References provided.”

At first, Alec hoped it was a joke, but Nick’s satisfied smile told him otherwise.

“Cousin Julia is always a delightful surprise, isn’t she?” purred Nick.

Alec glared, relieved to find an object for his anger. “Just what do you mean by that?”

“Merely that I find your wife fascinating.”

Lord Blackmore blew out his cheeks.
“Easy, Bridgeton.
Careful what you say about someone else’s wife.”

Nick’s gaze narrowed on the chubby man. “Oh, but Julia is so much more to me than my cousin’s wife.”

“Good God, man!” Blackmore shot a startled look at Alec.

But Nick was not finished. His smile heavy with meaning, he leaned across the table. “Tell me, Alec. Is there fire beneath that prim exterior? I have been dying to discover for myself.”

Seeing nothing but a haze of red, Alec leapt across the table. Cards, coins, and markers scattered across the floor. The room erupted into a cacophony of shouts and yells as men began placing bets on the outcome of the fight.

Though Nick was ready for the attack, Alec’s fury was unstoppable. His charge carried Nick backward, across a table, and toppled them both to the floor. When Lucien and Edmund finally managed to pull Alec away, Nick lay on the floor, blood dripping from his mouth and nose.

Shaking off Lucien’s grasp, Alec looked down at him.
“Never,
never
speak my wife’s name again.”

He turned sharply on his heel and left. Inwardly seething, Nick wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand and slowly got to his feet.

Blackmore huffed. “Demmed shame who they let in the club nowadays.” He shot a dark look at Nick from under heavy, black brows.
“Demmed shame.”

One by one, the spectators returned to their game as servants scurried about, resetting tables and bringing out fresh cards and drinks. Nick placed a handkerchief to his nose and winced. He should never have goaded Alec, but the idea of causing dissention in the Hunterston household was too sweet a thought to be ignored. He’d known Julia would not mention her business venture to her strict husband and he’d been right. Alec had been shocked.

Unfortunately, Nick had been caught off guard by the strength of Alec’s reaction. It was beginning to appear that Therese was right. Alec did indeed have feelings for his wife. Nick scowled and tucked his handkerchief into his pocket.

Once again, it seemed as if his cousin would win everything. The thought infuriated Nick. He was through wanting just the money. Now, he wanted it all.

He replaced his hat and bowed to the room, but no one acknowledged him. Nick set his teeth in a smile at the snub, inwardly seething like a bed of embers. It was one more indignity he could lay at Alec’s door.

Fortunately for Nick, there were more subtle and infinitely more gratifying ways of reckoning vengeance than fisticuffs. Alec would pay dearly for this little incident—and it would take more than money, now. It might even take the attentions of the fascinating Julia.

The thought calmed him. Alec’s wife was unlike any woman he’d ever known, and Nick had known hundreds. They loved his face and craved his affection, but none had ever touched his heart, if he indeed possessed one. Yet there was something about Julia that made him wonder if she could wake his hardened soul back to life.

Chuckling a little at
his own
folly, Nick waved down a hackney and climbed in. It was nonsense, of course. His soul was as dead as his heart.

Within a remarkably short time, the hackney deposited him at No. 10 Laura Street. Nick hated this part of the city. Full of cits and lawyers, it reminded him too much of the ease with which he himself could fall into obscurity. He climbed a set of rickety stairs and knocked on a faded door.

Thirty minutes later he emerged, a smile once again on his face, his steps jaunty. He located another hackney and ordered it to drive past Hunterston House. As the conveyance creaked up the road, he lifted a corner of the ragged curtain and watched as it came into view.

It wasn’t as impressive as Bridgeton Manor, yet Hunterston House held its own charm. For now, it was dark with the exception of one solitary upstairs window. Nick wondered if the irrepressible Julia awaited her husband’s return.

He smiled and dropped the curtain. Soon, it would all belong to him. Satisfied with his work, he thumped his cane on the roof and ordered the hackney toward Mayfair, where his palatial residence awaited him in solitary splendor.

Dawn was just breaking when Alec let himself into Hunterston House. Without waiting to divest himself of his gloves and hat, he took the stairs two at a time and threw open the door to Julia’s bedchamber.

Julia sat upright as the door banged against the wall. Hair mussed and cheeks flushed, she clutched the sheet to her and blinked sleepily. “Alec?”

Irritation flared. “Who else would be coming to your room at this time of the morning?”

She frowned and pushed the thick, honey-colored braid over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He made an impatient noise and strode to the bed and threw the card onto the counterpane. “What is
this
, madam?”

Julia picked it up and squinted. “Looks like a card. I can’t quite make it out, but it looks like 8-4-4 something.”

“It says ‘S.W.W.’ to be correct.”

She opened her eyes absurdly wide. “Is that a haberdasher?”

“No, it is not.”

“What a pity. Edmund was just telling me the other day that he needed a good—”

“You know very well whose card that is.”

Julia sighed, the innocent expression disappearing. “Of course I know whose it is.” She held the card at arm’s length. “We should have gotten the cream ones, but Aunt Maddie wouldn’t have it.”

“Lady Birlington was with you when you ordered those?”

“Oh, yes. She argued about the color, the size, and what to write on them.
A very helpful woman, Lady Birlington.”

Alec raked a hand through his hair. “Good God.”

“What’s the matter?”

“How can you ask that?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!”
Julia threw back the counterpane and slipped her legs over the edge of the bed. “You are the most absurd man, coming in here ranting and raving about a simple card. You have become more of a prude than Vicar Ashton.”

Alec barely heard the words. Julia’s nightrail gleamed in the early morning light, the rosy pink satin as luscious as the flesh it covered. Low cut, the scanty bodice hinted at the gentle swell of her breasts while the skirt hugged her body like a second skin, molding to her narrow waist, the delightful curve of her hip, and the long line of her leg.

Alec’s heart lodged against his third rib. It was the most disreputable nightrail he had ever seen. “Where in hell did you get that?”

She smoothed her hands over the silk, the thin material tightening across her breasts until the peaks of her nipples were plainly visible. “This? I bought it yesterday.” She regarded him through her lashes, a faint smile curving her mouth. “Do you like it?”

He hated it. He hated it for casting such intriguing shadows between her breasts, for caressing the line of her thigh, for making his body ache with frustration and desire.

God help him, but he wanted to rip that pink silk away and… he ground his teeth and forced his attention back to the card now covered by the counterpane. “I came to speak to you about that card, not your shameless attire.”

A flush rose along her shoulders and neck until they exactly matched her gown. “I don’t think it’s shameless.
Quite comfortable, really.
Except when 1 turn over, then it slips up and gets all tangled around my waist and between my—”

“For God’s sake!” he burst out. If it had been anyone else but Julia, he would have thought she deliberately taunted him.

“You look angry.”

Alec raked an impatient hand through his hair. “1
suppose
I should not be shocked by your choice of night-wear. Any woman who would hand out cards like a common tradesman would think nothing of going naked.”

Julia’s wide mouth flattened into a frown. “I don’t know why you’d care. According to you, we’re ruined already.”

“There is still a chance, however slim.”

“Not with you carousing all over town, drinking and gambling and God knows what.”

Alec said stiffly, “Unlike you, my behavior is not outside the realm of acceptable society.”

She sniffed and put her slim nose in the air. “That is only because men are not held to such standards as women. If I were to behave in such a manner, I would be cut forthwith.”

“How many of those damned cards have you handed out?”

Julia turned a cool, unimpressed stare on him. “As many as I could.”

“Good God!”

She ignored his outburst and rose from the bed. Without sparing him so much as a glance, she crossed to the washstand and raised her hands to the fastenings on her gown. The silk pulled across her breasts and outlined every curve and shadow with mouth-watering detail.

Alec tried to swallow, his cravat suddenly much too tight. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.
Thanks to you I’m wide awake now, so I might as well get up.” As if it were the most natural thing in the world, she began to unlace her nightrail.

Eerily fascinated, Alec watched her slim hands loosen first one and then another ice-pink tie. The ties slithered through the silk with a breathy sigh and dropped to the floor.

For one mad instant, he thought of throwing his pride to the wind, taking her in his arms, and bearing her back to the bed they had once shared. As passionate as she was, he knew he could win her over.

But winning her body wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. But that was all she had to give. Her heart belonged to Nick.

Furious and hurt, Alec stuffed his hands in his pockets and wished he had the strength to look away from the enticing display before him.

The nightrail slithered to the floor, a puddle of rose pink exposing a body that made the beauty of the gown pale in comparison. He closed his eyes against that creamy expanse of flesh, those long, lush legs and impudent breasts. His breeches inevitably tightened. “One day, madam,” he managed to grit out through clenched teeth, “you will be the death of me.”

With a decidedly shaky hand, he slammed the door behind him and went to lock himself in the solitary splendor of his study.

“Lord Edmund Valmont,” intoned Burroughs from the door of the breakfast room.

Julia looked up from her pile of correspondence and raised her brows as Edmund rushed past the butler, a rolled newspaper clutched in his hands.

Not only was it unfashionably early, but the young man appeared to have dressed in the dark. His fair curls tangled beneath a hat that looked as if it belonged to one of his servants, and his cravat was but half tied, one long end dangling over his shoulder like a scarf. The buttons of his coat had been thrust through the incorrect holes, and his shoes did not match.

“Heavens, Edmund. What has happened?”

He slid to a stop in the center of the room and cast a wild glance around. “Where’s Alec?”

She sniffed and returned to the pile of invitations.
“In his study.”

Edmund turned to the door. “I have to see him immediately.”

“It won’t do you any good,” she said calmly just as he reached the door. She pushed the salver of invitations and notes aside to put a slice of toast on her plate. “He has locked the door to his study and won’t come out. Burroughs said he’s in no mood to be bothered.”

Julia couldn’t help but feel a small amount of satisfaction at that. Maddie had been right. To attract a rake, one had to appeal to him on his own level. It really had been quite exhilarating. For the first time in days, hope buoyed her spirits.

Edmund heaved a defeated sigh and removed his hat, tossing it onto the table. “I’d better wait until he’s in a better frame of mind. I should have known it would be bellows to mend after Nick accosted him last night.”

Julia stabbed her spoon into the marmalade jar. So that was how Alec had discovered the cards. She had no doubt that the despicable Nick had put the whole incident in the worst light possible.

She slathered marmalade on her toast and decided she was beginning to develop a healthy dislike for that man.

Edmund threw himself in a chair, twisting the paper in his hands.

“Come and have some breakfast, Edmund. Whatever it is, there’s no sense in getting in a dither
.“

“I can’t. I have to see Alec. Perhaps after he’s eaten he’ll feel more the thing.”

Julia doubted it, but didn’t reply. As far as she could tell, Alec had been in a bad mood since he’d married her.

Burroughs entered the room with a tray, the steam curling from the silver salvers.

Edmund leapt from his chair.
“Bacon!
Just the thing.
Burroughs, could you take some to Alec? It would make him feel immensely better. Whenever I’m a bit out to let, I find that bacon will set me to rights in a trice.”

“Oh?” replied the butler, eyeing Edmund with much the same expression he would have bestowed on a plate of bad meat.

Impervious to slights, Edmund nodded. “I just hold my nose and eat as much of it as I can stand. The next thing you know, I’m out kicking up a lark again. Works like a charm every time.”

“How marvelous.
Unfortunately, his lordship has decided against breakfast this morning.” The butler cast a repressive glance at Julia.
“Again.”