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“Sit down.”
“There’s no need to grump, Alec. I am perfectly willing to discuss this with you.” Julia glanced at the clock as she slipped into a chair near the door. “But you will have to hurry. The guests will arrive any minute.”
“They can wait.” He crossed his arms and faced her sternly. “I thought you agreed to give up this preposterous idea of employing the Society’s Haymarket ware as respectable servants.”
“I did not ‘agree’ to anything. We simply ceased discussing it. Besides, Desiree is not from the Society.” Her smile was plainly condescending. “So you needn’t sulk.”
“Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes, Julia. That woman is a prostitute and little else.”
Julia’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “Desiree is not a prostitute. She is a young girl, hardly more than seventeen, and in the worst fix. I had to do something.”
It galled that she would risk everything, including his wrath, for a woman ripe from the gutters. The injustice rankled like a hot coal. “That does it: there will be no more visits to Whitechapel. You are entirely out of hand.”
“Nonsense,” she returned, adjusting the blue silk so that it pooled about her feet. “Mrs. Winston and I have complete faith that everything will go smoothly. You’ll see.”
“I’ve seen enough.” He glared. “I thought you said she was homely?”
Julia raised her brows. “I said that she had been persecuted for her appearance. It’s not my fault if you assumed that meant she had missing teeth and a sad tendency to freckle.”
The fact that he’d pictured just that made him even angrier. “If she was in such a fix, why didn’t you just pack her up and send her to the country?”
“She won’t accept charity. She wants to make enough money to buy her own cottage—a very commendable goal, I might add. Besides, there was precious little time. Someone was casting out very strong lures to the child and I had to remove her as quickly as possible.”
“Who could blame them? Your protégée couldn’t wait to thrust those bangles under my nose.”
“Exactly my point,” she replied, all cool hauteur. “All it would take is one gentleman with a modicum of address and a pretty bauble and Desiree would have been lost before she even knew what happened. She hasn’t the sense to open up an umbrella in the rain. And that, dear sir, is why I was forced to take action.”
“Damn it, Julia,” he burst out, raking a hand through his hair. “You cannot single-handedly help every urchin and guileless child in London!”
“I can try,” she returned, pressing her hands together so he would not see them shake. She would not apologize for helping others. Her heart had ached to see the shabby room Desiree had occupied, reminding Julia all too well of her own damp lodgings the year after her father had died. “I did what I must and there is no more to be said.”
A different type of heat warmed his eyes as he placed his hands on the arms of her chair and bent to face her, his mouth within inches of hers. “If anything goes awry, you will pay the price. And this time, I will not settle for mere kisses.”
Julia swallowed hard and stared at the winking sapphire nestled in his cravat. How could he call those incredible, drugging, sensual onslaughts “mere” anything?
He leaned closer until his breath warmed her cheek. “If our distinguished guests suspect your protégée of being anything other than an innocent kitchen maid, you will pay dearly indeed.”
Unable to answer, she gave a jerky nod.
“You will resign from the Society and come willingly to my bed. I want it all, Julia.” His voice softened into a husky invitation. “Every delectable inch.”
She would not have thought it possible, but he was even more handsome up close, his dark hair falling across his brow, begging to be straightened, his eyes shimmering with passion and anger. Julia’s instinct was to retreat, but she was already leaning as far back in her chair as she could.
There was nothing for it but to pretend she wasn’t in the least affected by his nearness. Yet her smile trembled. “Desiree will do well. Mrs. Winston and I have worked with her extensively these past two days. No one will suspect a thing.”
Alec ran a finger down her cheek, sending a ball of fire along her spine and through her lower limbs. “You had better hope they don’t, love.”
God save her from unprincipled rakes. Her insides had long since melted, her hands were damp, her heart fluttered like a caged butterfly. At any moment she would burst into flames, consumed by the fires of her own passion until nothing was left but a pile of ashes.
The thought of that lonely pile of ashes made her unaccountably angry, and she managed an admirable glare. “You have no right to make such demands.”
“Don’t I?” A muscle in his jaw clenched and he spoke in the stiff, cold tones of a stranger. “The only request my grandfather ever made of me was to protect the fortune from Nick’s clutches. We set a bargain, you and I. If I am to abide by your rules, then you will abide by mine.”
A lump rose to stick in Julia’s throat. “Your grandfather would have understood my intentions. Lady Birlington said he was quite generous and sponsored many charity efforts.”
Alec straightened abruptly, pushing himself away from the chair to tower over her. “Is that all you ever think about, your blasted charity work?”
“It was my parents’ dream.”
“And you? What do you dream about, Julia?”
If only he knew. “It is my dream, too.”
“My dreams are not so noble as yours.” He spoke more quietly now, his voice sifting through the silence like the brush of velvet on bared skin. “But each of us must fight his inclinations. I have relinquished my mistress; what have you given up?”
A hot flood of jealousy made her stiffen. Was that what he wanted? The right to return to his mistress? Before she could form her answer, a soft knock sounded at the door.
Cursing under his breath, Alec turned away as Burroughs entered the room. “Pardon me, my lord, but the Dowager Duchess of Roth and her niece have just arrived and are waiting in the front parlor.”
“We will be there immediately,” Alec answered shortly. Burroughs bowed and retreated, shutting the door behind him.
Julia struggled with a welter of emotions—fury at Alec’s arrogance, hurt at his lack of faith, and a strange thrill of excitement. She told herself she didn’t want his attentions, that she didn’t crave his touch, but the truth was, she had dreamed of nothing else since the first time she’d seen him almost four years ago. Dangerously handsome and forbidden, he had strolled into the Seftons’ ballroom and stolen her heart before she’d realized it. But that did not alter the cold, unpleasant truth: Alec did not love her.
Pride made her stand and meet his gaze with a stubborn scowl. “You needn’t worry that I will jeopardize anything. After all, half the money is mine and I would be a fool to let it slip away.”
His smile sliced her heart with its coldness. “Ah, yes, the money. Perhaps that is what you dream of as you lie in your cold, lonely bed.” His mouth curled unpleasantly. “If you are desperate, there are other ways to secure the fortune. The executors have made it clear that they will immediately award the funds if I get you with child. The thought is very tempting.” His gaze slid over her possessively. “Very tempting indeed.”
A child? She hadn’t even considered that. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have a little boy with Alec’s gray eyes…. What was she thinking? Her husband was telling her he had decided to bed her, not for love, but to meet the approval of a group of men he freely castigated as doddering old fools! Well, he could just find another wife. “I will not bring a child into this world without love.”
“What do you know of love?”
Before she could stop herself, she answered, “I’ve known it these past four years.”
A blaze of fury raged across his face. “Who?”
Afraid he’d read the answer on her face, Julia spun on her heel and walked to the door. �
��Our guests are waiting.”
His hand closed about her arm and he yanked her against him. “Who is it?”
Julia pulled free and met him stare for stare. “Does it matter?”
For a long second he glowered, then he dropped his hold and turned away as if the sight of her disgusted him. Without a word, he crossed to the window and stood with one arm against the frame, his back to her, his head lowered.
Julia struggled to hold back the tears of anger that threatened to spill. Why did she let him affect her so? He was proud, arrogant, and selfish beyond thought. She no longer worshipped Alec from afar. She knew his weaknesses and faults, yet despite them all, she loved him even more than she’d ever thought possible. For his sake as well as her own, she could not allow him to get any closer to her heart than he was now.
Stiffening her resolve, Julia swept from the room. Come heaven or hell, she would see to it that everything went perfectly this evening. The entire house gleamed—the woodwork polished to a new luster, the china ornaments well dusted, and the carpets beaten until they looked new. Already the mouth-watering smell of dinner wafted through the house, evidence of Mrs. Winston’s culinary mastery. Buoyed by the scent, Julia gathered her scattered emotions and went to greet their guests.
Everything rested on Desiree’s small rounded shoulders. Somehow the thought did not bring Julia any comfort.
Chapter 21
At Lady Birlington’s instigation, Julia had invited as many couples as she could squeeze into the small dining room at Hunterston House. The dinner began well enough, with the guests thoroughly impressed with each other, and satisfied to have been included in such a select gathering. Mrs. Winston conjured up a meal of unsurpassing quality which Burroughs served with an implacable dignity that added an air of formality rarely found outside Buckingham Palace.
While Burroughs served the soup, Desiree lightly tripped in and deposited the first course on the sideboard. Julia watched as the maid left to assist Mrs. Winston in the kitchen. Alec would eat his words before the night was through; Julia was becoming more convinced of it by the minute.
The first course proceeded well, the conversation flowing freely, Desiree performing her duties with flawless grace.
Baron Hewlett put down his spoon and sighed. “Best turtle soup I’ve ever had.”
“I must get the recipe,” Lady Chambers said.
“Of course.” Julia had always liked the quiet woman, though she thought Lord Chambers something of a simpleton.
Burroughs collected the soup bowls as the aging Duke of Devonshire nodded. “Excellent fare, my lady. Reminds of a dish I was served at the Pavilion, and….” He trailed into silence as Desiree reentered the room holding a steaming china bowl.
Julia frowned. “You were saying, Your Grace?”
He did not answer, merely stared at Desiree as she set down the dish and slipped from the room.
It was quite rude of the man, but Julia supposed she didn’t blame him. Desiree’s beauty was phenomenal.
The duchess leaned toward Julia. “You’ll have to forgive Devonshire. He was up past ten last night. Devastating to a man his age.” She cast a cold glare at her husband.
The duke caught her minatory gaze and started, tugging on his collar. “Ah, no. Yes, I mean, yes. Very tired today. Hardly hold my eyes open.” He leaned toward his wife and said urgently, “Perhaps we should leave.”
She lifted thin brows. “But we just arrived. You can sleep in the carriage on the way home.” As if that settled everything, the duchess returned to her meal. Left with a very red face, the duke began casting wild glances toward the door where Desiree had disappeared.
Julia watched him for a moment before sneaking a glance at Alec. He was staring at Devonshire with drawn brows, as if trying to figure out an especially confusing puzzle.
Desiree entered holding a large platter with a steaming goose. The fragrance wafted through the room, making Julia’s mouth water.
Lady Birlington’s fork clanked against her plate. “Good God! It looks like he’s having an apoplexy.”
Edmund turned to look at the duke, who was forking food into his mouth as fast as he could, his eyed fixed on his plate as if fearful someone would steal it.
“No, he don’t,” Edmund said. “Hungry, is all.”
“Not him, ninny.” Maddie gestured with her spoon. “Chambers over there.”
All eyes turned to Lord Chambers. Mouth open, fork suspended in midair, he stared at Desiree. His face shone a pasty white, his thin moustache standing out in dark relief against his pallor.
“Are you well, your lordship?” asked Julia, feeling her first real hint of alarm.
Lady Chambers leaned over and placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “Chambers, what on earth is the matter?”
He blinked, color flooding his pale face. “Nothing. Never better. Just…thinking, you know. Yes, thinking about the crimped cod.” He took a rapid mouthful and gulped. “Best I’ve ever had. What is this sauce, Lady Hunterston?”
“Rhenish Cream,” Julia replied, watching him uneasily. What was happening? Though she had known Desiree’s beauty would affect her guests, she had never expected anything like this.
Lady Birlington set down her wineglass. “Well, you may like it, but I think it is much too salty.”
A huge clatter arose from the sideboard as a large serving fork clanged to the floor. Desiree’s face turned beet red and she hurriedly bobbed a curtsey, casting an anguished glance at Julia. “Pardon, Your Gr—ladyship. It just slipped off the tray.”
“Oh…my…God.”
Everyone turned to Edmund. His face flushed, his eyes bulged, his mouth opened and closed. “You…she…good God, it can’t be…I mean, how could it be?”
The maid clapped her hands together. “Lord Valmont!” She held up her wrist and fingered a silver bangle. “Look, I still have the bracelet you gave me.”
Edmund’s gaze widened. “By Jove!”
Desiree looked at the bracelet and a slight frown marred her white brow. “It isn’t one of my favorites. I have to wear it over my sleeve so it won’t turn my arm green.” Her mouth pursed into an enchanting pout. “I was not happy you were trying to cheat me.”
If possible, Edmund’s face reddened even more. “Nonsense! Don’t know what you’re talking about! Never saw you before in my life.”
Lucien raised his quizzing glass to regard his friend. “Nip farthing to the end, eh, Edmund?”
“Demme, Luce!” Edmund whispered loudly. “I was cheated! I paid a guinea for that trinket.”
“What were you doing buying the gel a bracelet?” Lady Birlington’s brows arched in astonishment. “I’ve never heard of buying gifts for other people’s servants.”
Edmund gulped, casting a wild glance around the table. “Ahm, didn’t. Mean to say, wasn’t me. Just someone who looked like me.”
“With the same name? Impossible!” Lady Birlington scoffed.
Julia gave a breathless laugh. “Amazing, the people who look similar. I met a woman the other day who looked exactly like Princess Caroline.”
“Perhaps it was Princess Caroline,” Lucien suggested. He polished his quizzing glass with his napkin before turning it on Desiree. “She has the most annoying habit of showing up where she is least wanted.”
Lady Birlington frowned. “I don’t know about you, Edmund, but I would be very uncomfortable to think there was a person who looked like me. Especially if they were using my name and giving away shabby bracelets to people’s servants. There ought to be a law against such chicanery.”
“Oh, but your ladyship,” interjected Desiree, oblivious to Julia’s frantic signals, “I’m certain it was Lord Valmont.” She turned to Edmund. “I still have the poem you wrote, too.”
Lucien dropped his quizzing glass, letting it dangle on a ribbon from his waistcoat. “Edmund! Such unexpected depths.”
“Stop it, Luce,” hissed Edmund.
Julia wanted to crawl under the table. Nick’s evil
intentions in placing Desiree in her path were suddenly painfully clear. Tossing caution to the winds, Julia cast an uncertain glance at Alec.
He met her gaze, his face dark and inscrutable. For one instant, she thought she saw a glint of triumph in his smoke gray eyes. The thought infuriated her.
Turning to Burroughs, she said with as much hauteur as she dared, “We are ready for the next course.”
The butler bowed. “Yes, my lady.” Without giving the maid time to do more than murmur a protest, he firmly led her from the room, leaving the guests in an uncomfortable silence.
Lady Chambers look a sip of wine. “I do so love a well-cooked goose.” She regarded her husband over the rim of her glass, a dangerous gleam in her eye. “Don’t you, Alfred?”
Color bloomed in his cheeks. “Ah, yes, m’dear,” he replied, setting his wineglass down so hard Julia was surprised it didn’t shatter.
Lady Birlington nodded. “You are to be commended on the meal, Julia. It’s a wonder Mrs. Winston can even cook in the tiny kitchen you have here.” She leaned toward Lady Hewlett. “I have tried to convince them to get a larger house, but they will not listen.”
“We are quite comfortable where we are,” Alec said, though he did not remove his gaze from Julia.
Julia fixed her attention on her plate and refused to look up. How was she to have known every man in the ton had such an appreciation for the theatre?
“It might be a comfortable house, but the rooms are not appropriately situated,” Lady Birlington said loudly, as if to cow Alec into submission by sheer zeal. “Lord Bentham wanted to paint Julia’s portrait here, but there’s no room. I finally told him to come to my house and do it there.”
Lady Chambers raised her brows. “Bentham is painting your portrait? How lovely.”
“He’s offered to donate it to the dowager’s charity ball next month,” Julia said brightly, hoping everyone had forgotten Desiree.
Alec offered no comment. Sitting at the end of the table, he appeared at his ease and relaxed. Too relaxed, as if he were already anticipating his victory. She remembered his words during their argument and heat flooded her cheeks. That he should make such demands was unconscionable. Worse, she had the distinct impression he expected her to fulfill them without protest.