All Night With A Rogue

by Alexandra Hawkins

  Alexius had heard talk of the elder Lord Duncombe and his luck at the gaming tables. However, Alexius had never encountered the gentleman.

  Lady Lucilla leaned forward. “Maman is rather skillful at the tables, too.”

  “Until Lord Gomfrey,” Lady Cordelia amended.

  The marchioness sighed heavily. “Yes. Gomfrey bested me. I confess, I have never seen such luck. Not since your dear father.”

  Alexius held his tongue. He glanced at all three women in amazement. He was surrounded by a family of sharpers. “Does Juliana gamble, too?”

  Lady Cordelia wrinkled her nose. “Papa taught all of us the basics. Nevertheless, for Juliana, it was her music. She played so beautifully and composed the loveliest musical compositions, so our father was happy to indulge her.”

  “And then, my husband died and in an act of desperation I brought my girls to London in hopes of them finding suitable husbands. When I heard that you were sniffing after my Juliana I was so pleased. She seemed to like you, too. It was a shame that you turned out to be a heartless rogue,” the marchioness lamented.

  So Lady Duncombe was back to blaming him again.

  “If you had asked any member of the ton, they would have warned you to keep your daughters away from me and my friends,” Alexius said gruffly before he could stop himself. Somehow the marchioness had twisted the conversation around so that he was insulting himself. “I was not looking for a bride,” he said defensively.

  “Indeed,” Lady Cordelia crisply replied. “After your impromptu performance at the theater, now everyone knows that you were simply doing Lady Gredell’s bidding.”

  Lady Lucilla shuddered. “I met her once. A dreadful woman.” Belatedly she recalled that Alexius was the countess’s half brother. “No offense.”

  Lady Duncombe tilted her head so that she could look down her nose. “You claim that you were not seeking a bride. How odd, since you had no misgivings about treating my Juliana as a man does his wife.”

  It was difficult not to cringe at the accusation. Agitated, he covered his mouth with his hand and stroked his chin. He did not care how open-minded these women were, he was not about to discuss the intimate details of his affair with Juliana.

  The marchioness retrieved her discarded cloth and carefully refolded the damp fabric. “Well, there is no point castigating you for my mistakes.”

  Precisely.

  “I should have studied you more thoroughly, and learned of your connection to Lady Gredell. If I had, I would have discouraged my daughter from seeing you and picked another gentleman to marry my Juliana.” She placed the cloth over her eyes and sagged against the sofa.

  Alexius snatched the cloth away. “You did not choose me for Juliana,” he said flatly.

  “If you say so.” She held out her hand in anticipation of him returning her cloth.

  He clutched the cloth tightly in his fist. “What was the plan? That I would marry Juliana and rescue her family from their impoverished circumstances?”

  Lady Cordelia and Lady Lucilla would not meet his questioning gaze. The marchioness simply shrugged.

  “Gomfrey muddled your plans with his demands. However, you were assuming Juliana would come to me for the money. You knew I would never allow her to become Gomfrey’s mistress. It was not far-fetched to guess that I would pay off your debt and punish Gomfrey for his insulting bargain.”

  Lady Duncombe leaned back against the sofa and looked expectantly at him. “You confronted Lord Gomfrey this afternoon. What did you do?”

  Alexius had wanted to kill the man for touching and frightening Juliana. “I ruined his pretty face by breaking his nose and jaw, and perhaps cracked a few of his ribs as well. I have also challenged him to a duel.”

  “Excellent,” the marchioness said, her face softening with pride and smug satisfaction. “I knew I could count on you! Of course, Juliana has vowed never to forgive you over this business with your sister. However, I am older and rather practical when it comes to my daughters. I knew you would come to Juliana’s aid if she needed you.”

  He had to credit the woman for her cleverness. He had been neatly outmaneuvered by an expert. Odder still, he did not seem to mind as long as he could see Juliana again.

  “Where is she, Lady Duncombe?”

  The marchioness smiled coyly at him. “Juliana is currently residing with her future husband.”

  Alexius lunged for the older woman, causing her daughters to shriek. He caged the marchioness with his arms and glowered at her. “When did you find the time to dig up another husband for her?” he raged.

  Alexius could not believe it. Just when he had ripped Juliana out of the greedy grasp of one man, some other gent had absconded with her.

  Lady Duncombe gave Alexius’s arm a sympathetic pat. The woman was positively fearless. “It was our cousin’s price for paying my gambling debts to Lord Gomfrey.” She straightened her spine and matched his ire with a quelling glare. “I told you, my dear boy, that you were to blame for this mess. I had given up on you, and there was little I could do but accept Lord Duncombe’s dreadful conditions.”

  “He will not let us see her,” Lady Cordelia said, her eyes misting with tears. “Not until the wedding.”

  “Naturally the young marquess believes I cannot be trusted with his bride.”

  If Alexius had not caught onto the older woman’s games, he might have believed that she was truly hurt and bewildered by her cousin’s decree. What Lady Duncombe wanted was revenge, and she had already guessed Alexius would be her willing messenger to atone for what he had done to Juliana.

  The marchioness was correct.

  Alexius grinned at her. He was beginning to like this devious woman.

  “What say you, Lord Sinclair?” she said, tossing her head back while her eyes twinkled challengingly. “Are you willing to assist me in meddling in my daughter’s life just one more time?”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “YOU ARE SO incredibly beautiful.”

  Juliana sat at the dressing table that once had belonged to her mother and studied her reflection in the small oval mirror. She was still attired in the white satin dress she had worn when she sat beside Lord Gomfrey in his private box. It was the same dress she had been wearing when she learned Sin had been conspiring against her with his half sister, Lady Gredell.

  Juliana idly touched the glass beads decorating the bodice. This dress had witnessed humiliation, greed, violence, deceit, and hatred. All she wanted to do was tear the evening dress from her body and burn the ragged remnants.

  “I do not feel beautiful, Cousin.” She glanced away from the mirror and stared at Lord Duncombe. “I feel like your prisoner.”

  Hours earlier, she had been Lord Gomfrey’s prize before her cousin had paid off her mother’s debt of honor and had stolen Juliana away. Days earlier, she had thought of herself as Sin’s woman. Now all she craved was to be left alone.

  She did not want any man.

  “You are still upset about that business with Lord Gomfrey,” the marquess said, his hands trembling as they hovered over the transparent gauze and lace that made up her puffed sleeves. He dug his fingers into his palms, resisting the urge to soothe her with his touch. “It was cruel of me to send you away, letting you believe that I would not assist your family. I beg your forgiveness.”

  The air behind her stirred as her cousin abruptly stepped away from her, his body as restless as his thoughts. “For many years, your mother has abused my benevolence. Once I had learned that she had once again ignored my dictates and harried you and your sisters to London, it seemed fitting to teach her a lesson. I needed someone to lure your mother into deep play, and Lord Gomfrey seemed the ideal opponent. My greatest mistake was underestimating the man’s flexible morality and his hatred of Sinclair. If I had deduced that he would have been so brazen as to bring you to his town house, I would never have trusted the gentleman.”

  A lesson.

  Juliana felt a bubble of laughter rise in her th
roat. She covered her mouth, muffling the misplaced amusement. Lord Duncombe had been attempting to teach her mother a lesson. Why was she the one paying the price?

  To defend her mother was as natural to Juliana as breathing. “My lord, Maman means well. I realize that she oftentimes seems reckless to you. Nevertheless, she thinks only to protect her family.”

  The marquess’s face hardened. Juliana had always thought him quite rigid and cold. If the gentleman felt mercy, he spared none for her mother.

  “Well, what matters most is that you are unharmed from your ordeal. Lord Gomfrey has been dealt with and Sinclair is no longer a problem. Furthermore, I am prepared to assume my duties toward you and your family.”

  He laid his hand on the nape of her neck. “I will be a good husband, Juliana. I swear it.”

  That was the problem, she thought despairingly. She did not want to marry her cousin. Whether she was Lord Gomfrey’s mistress or the marquess’s wife, both gentlemen had essentially bought her as if she were a possession to be bartered.

  “My lord, this arrangement is impractical.” Juliana gestured helplessly at the bedchamber that was once inhabited by her mother. “I do not even have a clean dress.” She turned toward him, placing her hand on his wrist. “You do not have to fulfill your duty to our family by marrying me. I would make a dreadful wife. I belong with my mother and sisters. I beg of you, please take me home.”

  The marquess stepped back, and Juliana allowed her hand to fall into her lap. “I have been inconsiderate,” he said brusquely. “You need food, a warm bath, and clean dresses. That dress is a hideous reminder of the ugly business with Lord Gomfrey. Remove it at once.”

  “You are not leaving without us, Sinclair!”

  Alexius grimaced. He had escaped as far as the front hall before the marchioness’s resounding declaration had him pivoting and striding back to the ladies, who were determined to vex him.

  “You will only get in my way,” he replied tersely.

  Alexius suspected that the ladies would not approve of his method for returning Juliana. His plan was simple. He would kick in Duncombe’s front door, trounce the self-righteous bastard for bullying his cousin into marriage, and then, whether she liked it or not, Juliana would have to deal with Alexius.

  Something in his expression must have tipped the marchioness off about his violent intentions. She uttered a mild wordless sound of disapproval. “The young marquess has acted rather brashly, but I highly doubt he will hurt Juliana. After all, the man has offered her marriage.”

  Alexius muttered a vulgar oath.

  “Need I remind you, Lady Duncombe that your cousin is blackmailing your daughter into marriage? Does that seem very honorable to you?”

  The butler entered the hall, his arms laden with the ladies’ cloaks.

  “Thank you, Gilbert,” Lady Cordelia said as she selected a dark gray cloak from the pile. She slipped the garment over her shoulders and looked Alexius in the eye. “You must be reasonable about this, my lord. The servants will open the door to us.”

  On any other occasion, he would have found their naïveté charming. “And if Duncombe has given them strict orders to turn you away?”

  “We could always sneak into the house from the servants’ entrance at the back,” Lady Lucilla chimed in, behaving as if they were embarking on some grand adventure.

  He was half-tempted to lock them in the cellar and have Gilbert guard the key. “You are all remaining here,” Alexius said in an uncompromising tone. “Let me handle your blackmailing cousin.”

  Lady Duncombe bowed her head so a maid could adjust her bonnet. “And how do you plan to handle my daughter?”

  Alexius hesitated. He had not considered that Juliana might be a problem. If she had any sense, she should be grateful that someone was preparing to rescue her. However, this was Juliana. Stubbornness had been bred into her very bones.

  He shrugged carelessly. “If the occasion calls for it, by tossing her over my shoulder.”

  All three ladies railed at him for his brutish response.

  “Unacceptable!”

  “Absurd.”

  “Insensitive swine!”

  Gilbert, who stood off to the side, rolled his eyes upward.

  “Perhaps we should send a note to Lord Fisken,” Lady Cordelia said to her mother. “I realize you did not want to involve him in our private affairs until I had some assurance of his feelings. However, I think—”

  “No.”

  Fortunately, the marchioness was not enthusiastic about her daughter’s suggestion either. “I fear, Cordelia, that Lord Fisken may not be as sympathetic to our plight as you might hope. There is no reason why we should risk any misunderstanding.”

  Although he had no personal grievances toward the gentleman, Alexius thought Fisken’s delicate nature would suffer greatly if thoroughly tested by the Ivers family. It took a sturdy constitution to engage these ladies. “Forget Lord Fisken. It would take too long to find him.”

  “I agree with Lord Sinclair.”

  Alexius rewarded Lady Lucilla with a dazzling smile. She sweetly preened under his perusal.

  “Then it is agreed, all of you will remain here.”

  Lady Duncombe brushed past him and headed for the door. “Nonsense. You need us, Sinclair.”

  Gilbert rushed forward and opened the door.

  She raised her finger to illustrate her position. “Lest you forget, my Juliana has not forgiven you as I have. With her family around her, my daughter will be more amenable to your presence. You have your work cut out for you, my boy. Indeed, you do.”

  With her daughters behind her, the marchioness walked out the front door.

  Alexius had only one option. He surrendered gracefully.

  “Stand up and give me your back,” Lord Duncombe ordered. “The dress is wrinkled and filthy. You will feel better once it is removed.”

  Earlier, Juliana had had similar thoughts. She straightened her knees, rising from the small padded bench. “If you send in a maid, I will undress.”

  Impatience flashed in the marquess’s stern gaze. “Your mother’s defiance was what brought me to London. I had no plans to enjoy the season, and thus the house has not been properly staffed and prepared. I will remedy that on the morrow. For now, you will have to be satisfied with my clumsy attempts to play lady’s maid.”

  Juliana edged away from the dressing table toward the door. “I have already slept in this dress. Another night will not matter.”

  “Rubbish! I only wish to see to your comfort.” He moved in closer. “Since I shall be your husband soon, there is nothing improper about me seeing to the task.”

  She cringed at his first tentative touch. “My lord, truly—”

  “Hold still.” he commanded, setting to work on the neat line of glass buttons securing her dress. “Do you find the touch of all males offensive, or is your dislike reserved exclusively for me?”

  Her reply would displease him, so she ignored the question. She had always felt awkward in his presence. Since he and her mother had collected her from Lord Gomfrey’s, the marquess had taken charge of the situation. Heedless of the marchioness’s protests, Lord Duncombe had ordered her from the family’s coach with the stunning announcement that he would marry his errant distant cousin.

  Juliana’s reunion with her mother had been tearful and unacceptably brief.

  The back of her dress parted. Without asking her permission, Lord Duncombe stripped the puffed sleeves from her bare arms and shoved the skirts to the floor. In spite of her corset, chemise, and petticoat covering her almost as sufficiently as her evening dress, Juliana felt exposed.

  She had not thought her cousin capable of it, but his eyes softened and heated as he stared at her in her undergarments.

  “Guileless and enchanting.” He circled around her, his gaze devouring her. “That was my impression of you when I visited your family six years ago. It was summer. You were thirteen years old and you strolled about the gardens as if you w
ere a queen.”

  He came up from behind and buried his nose in her hair. Juliana danced away when she felt his left hand on her hip. “I recall you visiting us on several occasions,” she said, moving to the end of the bed. “You were heir to the title, and by then Maman had given up her dreams of delivering a son. Papa had once told me that it was important for you to be acquainted with the lands, to appreciate their beauty.”

  “And to understand my duty to the family.”

  Juliana sighed. “That, too.” Her father loved his family. He would have wanted to gain the future marquess’s promise that his family would be looked after.

  She grasped the end post of the bed and pivoted so that she faced her cousin as something he had said prompted her curiosity. “Why does that particular summer linger in your mind? I do not recall anything unusual occurring.”

  The marquess leaned against the opposite post and crossed his arms. He seemed bemused by her question. “Your father did not tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  Lord Duncombe made a soft scoffing sound. “Of course he did not tell you. Why would he?” He lifted his head so their gazes met. “That summer, I declared myself to your father and asked for your hand in marriage.”

  “I-I did not know.”

  He did not seem to hear her. “At first, he laughed. Your father thought it was a jest.”

  “I was thirteen.”

  He became incensed at the gentle reminder. “I would have waited until you were older. You saw me only as an annoying distant relation. There was enough time for you to grow and to learn to love me. I assured your father that I would be a good husband to you.” He staggered backward as he threaded his fingers through his hair. “Your father rejected my offer. He had the audacity to tell me that I was a good man, but that I was not good enough for his precious daughter.”

  “You must have misunderstood.” She licked her dry lips. “My father would have never been so cruel.”

  The marquess thumped his chest with his fist. His eyes burned with old frustration and rage. “Oh, there was no possible way to misconstrue your father’s refusal. While you, my sweet Juliana, were off chasing butterflies in the pasture and composing silly songs to amuse your family, your father was in the library lecturing me about my unyielding character and how it conflicted with the temperament of his creative, vivacious youngest daughter. He proclaimed that such a marriage would be disastrous.”