For Lady Julia was not silly.
She could play a pianoforte, speak French, likely paint, and do all the other things finished young ladies were expected to do. What she cared about was what interested him the most. Her accomplishments were found in her father’s library, not through a governess or tutor.
He had ridiculed her indirectly for being a bluestocking, but in all honesty, it made her more attractive—made his manhood painfully hard even thinking about her reciting some political theory while he pumped into her sweet body.
It went against everything he had been brought up to believe.
Whipped into believing by his father.
“Your Grace?” Julia looked increasingly concerned. “Are you unwell?”
“No,” he said. “I have never felt better, Lady Julia. And if I have my way, I will soon be able to demonstrate to you just how fit I am.”
She swallowed, her gaze flitting downward momentarily, then back to him. “Is that a threat, Your Grace?”
Before he could answer, the Duke of Stanhope rose from his seat at the head of the table, signaling for the men to follow him to his library for brandy and cigars. Alonzo closed his eyes and sighed. Could his host’s timing be any worse?
“Understand this,” he said ty to Julia with sincerity. “When I am able, we will finish our discussion from the garden.”
She didn’t deny him or give him a set down of any kind, simply nodded and watched as he departed the dining room with Mr. Garland following closely.
*
“You cannot deny it, Julia,” Willa said with some urgency once they were safely ensconced in Julia’s chamber. “The duke is a scapegrace.”
“Is this why you dragged me away from the drawing room, to discuss his reputation?”
“Most assuredly not. I feigned a headache so you would not be exposed to the very women you often denounce when we are in private. Besides, I did not like the way Lady Amelia was staring at you once she learned the Duke of Pridegate has taken a personal interest in you. Anyone with half a brain could see it.”
“Oh, dear,” Julia said, pacing nervously. “That is the last thing I wished. We have only been here a day, and already we are providing the sort of scandal the gossipmongers thrive on.”
“No, nothing as untoward as that. It’s just… the two of you have an undeniable attraction—something to be envied. And that American, Mr. Garland, seems to have taken a quick interest in you, too.”
Julia shook her head. “Nonsense. He’s an inexperienced traveler who wishes to know anything of import about our country, nothing more.”
“Julia.”
“Yes?”
Julia tried to rally her confidence, to find a way to convincingly explain away the feelings she had for the duke. He lived a life of utter debauchery, indulgent and arrogant, unrepentant and privileged. But so handsome and kind—there was much more to him—layers of complicated feelings and traditions he followed. The most important thing, though, he silently gave to charities, helping those most in need, which made him irresistible to her.
“Tell me again what he said to you in the gardens,” Willa whispered romantically.
“Which part?”
“The anything part…”
She rolled her eyes at her best friend’s amorous notions. “He said I need only ask, that he would give me anything I wanted.”
“I think the duke is in very grave danger.”
Julia threw herself on the palatial bed—the mattress thicker than anything she had ever slept on before. “Of what sort?”
“Do you really not know?” Willa sat next to her and turned so she could look Julia in the eyes.
“Maybe I prefer not knowing at all.”
“What way is that to go along in life? Not knowing what you should.”
“Is it not better for a man to be blissfully ignorant of his fate?”
Willa crossed her arms over her chest. “You are a woman.”
“Who wishes with all her heart that she had been born a son to her father.”
Willa cradled her hand affectionately. “But you weren’t, so you must make the best of it. Hope for a match with the Duke of Pridegate.”
Julia held her breath and looked away. Could she allow herself to marry such a man? Oh, bedding him would be easy enough—he had everything necessary to recommend himself for bed sport. Those eyes—his full lips, his thick, curly hair, broad shoulders, the smirk he regularly wore… She felt so powerless next to him sometimes, intimidated by his superior height and enigmatic character. Would he woo her with songs? She smiled at that thought.
“What is it?” Willa asked.
“Some thoughts are better left unshared, Willa.” Her cheeks heated.
“Ah! You are imagining what it would be like to become his wife in every way, aren’t you?”
“Willa! You are incorrigible, a wanton, I think.”
Just as Willa giggled like a girl, someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Julia said, standing.
Willa’s mother opened the door and stepped inside the chamber. “I can see my daughter’s headache has gone.”
“Mama, I only needed a moment away from the rush of guests. It has been so long since I, we, have been invited to this sort of gathering.”
The dowager countess nodded sympathetically as she closed the door and sat in one of the chairs near the hearth. “I understand, my dear.” She gazed at Julia. “We are here for two important reasons. The first, to find you a suitable husband. I promised your father…”
“Yes,” Julia said. “I am grateful for your help.”
“If I could change your circumstances, all of our unfortunate circumstances, dear child, I would.” She pulled a square of lace from her long sleeve and dabbed at her watery eyes. “We women must stand together and not let these powerful men decide our futures without us having a say in it. Julia, is the Duke of Pridegate a man you could tolerate as a husband?”
Rising pressure in her chest stole her breath momentarily. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “He is the only man I have spent any time with, so I have no one to compare him to.”
“But he is a duke,” the dowager reminded her.
“Yes. His title has not escaped me.” She was not being impertinent, just glum.
“It is by his special request that I have come to get you,” she said.
“Really, Mama?” Willa asked.
“Yes. The duke wishes you to accompany him on the pianoforte while he sings.”
“What?” Julia could not believe it. What was he up to? Did he wish to disgrace her in front of all those people? Though she could play the instrument with confidence, she lacked the passion his voice possessed. They would be ill matched for such a public performance. “I cannot.”
The dowager sighed. “Cannot, or will not?”
Julia dragged herself to the French doors that opened onto the balcony. She pushed them ajar and slipped outside, hugging herself around her middle. The dowager coughed as she joined her, resting a calming hand on her shoulder.
“Julia, you are like a second daughter to me.”
“Yes,” she acknowledged, heart heavy with memories of her mother.
“Do not be afraid of accepting your responsibility as a member of the peerage and becoming a wife. Even if your husband leaves much to be desired, children will be your reward.”
“I never wished to marry.”
“I do not believe that, my dear. You were always a compassionate girl, and I think once your mother died, you clung to anything you could find to cover up your grief. Look at me, Julia.”
She reluctantly turned around.
“You are not a bluestocking or any of these other rebellious things you wish to be called. They are carefully constructed masks to hide behind. It is time to set these childish things aside and embrace your future. Let us go belowstairs and graciously accept the duke’s favor by you playing the pianoforte for him.”
Julia would neve
r disrespect her. She nodded and curtsied. “You are right, we should go down.”
Chapter Sixteen
The Duke of Pridegate had nearly lost his patience as he glanced a last time at the entryway to the drawing room. He’d sensed something was wrong with Julia over dinner, but the fact that she had disappeared upstairs with Lady Willa gave him greater cause for concern. Had he said or done something to offend her, or worse yet, had someone else? If that rude American had, Alonzo would call him out and give him a true taste of English tradition! Just as he was about to go abovestairs to find out, the ladies in question arrived.
Relieved to see her, Alonzo sank back into the crowd, moving toward the pianoforte. His request had been simple, asking the dowager countess to bring Julia down to accompany him on the instrument while he sang. Admittedly, he intended to force Julia out of her shyness and to interact with her peers. She needed to be challenged—to showcase her talents as an accomplished lady—a responsibility she had ignored for too long.
Once she had greeted the Duke of Stanhope and his sister, Julia ambled over to him and curtsied. “I am here to do as you asked, Your Grace.”
He wanted to tip her chin up and have her look him in the eyes. “It is not meant to make you uncomfortable.”
“No?” she asked. “Then why did you not simply ask me to play for you?”
“Because I know what your answer would be. As much as I seek the adulation of my peers, you run from attention at every turn.”
“Is that not a desirable quality in a young lady?”
“If it was for the right reasons, Lady Julia.”
“And what would those be?” She finally met his gaze, her head held at a defiant angle, her brown eyes as alive as ever.
“There is the woman I have come to admire.”
She pursed her lips. “Are you toying with me, Your Grace?”
“Alonzo,” he said scandalously. “Or Farrington, if you must.”
She raised her hand as if to touch him, but quickly corrected herself. “Why do you encourage me to be scandalous?”
He leaned as close to her as was acceptable, noticing the American and Lady Amelia standing together nearby. “Anything I do is meant good-naturedly, Lady Julia. Perhaps to tease you a bit and to see how you react to temptation. For any woman that is going to keep company with me, must not only have her wits about her, she must also have an open mind, for I am a man of uncommon tastes.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“I am not sure if I should be frightened or flattered that you wish to know me better.”
“That is a subject better saved for when we are not under the scrutiny of so many people.” He greeted several admirers who waited to speak with him, naturally drifting away from Julia and next to the pianoforte to wait for her to take her seat at the instrument.
“Are you ready, Farrington?” the Duke of Stanhope asked.
“I believe my debt is paid in full after this, Stanhope,” he said.
“Indeed.” The duke smiled and slapped Alonzo’s back. “I hope she was worth it—the invitations.”
Alonzo cast an admiring look at Julia. Yes, she was worth the trouble of singing when he’d had no intention of doing so before.
Stanhope raised his hands to quiet his guests. “As so many of us hoped, the Duke of Pridegate has chosen to honor us with an impromptu performance, with Lady Julia accompanying him on the pianoforte.”
A round of applause brought Julia to the bench, and Alonzo opened the sheet music for her.
She stared at his selection of song in shock. “You wish to sing a Scottish air over something more refined?”
“Does that surprise you?”
“O Waly, Waly, is not something I would have chosen for you.”
“I did not choose it for myself, Julia, I chose it for you. Now, if you please…”
She positioned her elegant fingers on the keys and began to play the lively tune. Alonzo’s throat tightened with tenderness at her earnest style. How much sweeter the notes sounded being played by her. His voice sounded perfect paired with her music, and when he sang the words, The water is wide, I cannot get o’er, And neither have I wings to fly.
Give me a boat that will carry two, And both shall row, my love and I… the fantasy of sharing such moments with her became rather real to him.
The need for it as important as taking a breath.
An expensive brandy wasn’t the only thing that could intoxicate a man.
As they finished performing the first song, the small crowd erupted with enthusiastic applause. Another country tune was played, and then Alonzo was ready for a drink.
He waited for Lady Julia to stand, then encouraged the guests to recognize her contribution. With dignity, Julia accepted their praise, curtsied, and made her way to Lady Willa and her mother. The duke approved immensely of her musical abilities and her courage to do what she normally would have refused.
In essence, he must admit he had never met a woman as compelling as her.
*
“Flattery—that is all it is,” she complained to Willa.
“You are being irrational,” her friend said. “To the point of exhaustion, in fact.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me correctly. I watched how the two of you performed together. There was nothing but happiness in your eyes.”
Julia could not deny it. She acted put out by the duke in order to protect herself from the feelings growing for him inside her. “I am sorry. The more I try to find fault in him, the more I realize he’s an honorable man.”
“I am pleased to hear it,” Willa said. “Would you venture to say not all men leave something to be desired?”
“I have never condemned all men.”
Willa rolled her eyes. “Name one you have found tolerable before. Your father or anyone over fifty years of age do not count!”
Julia laughed. “There is that young man at the museum—he is kind enough.”
“He is the curator’s assistant, not someone you socialize with.”
“What about Mr. Lawrence Murphy, he is highly agreeable.”
“And shares the same political views as you. Let me amend my guidelines—you cannot name men you attend political meetings with.”
Julia looked about the drawing room. “What about Mr. Garland from America? He is an interesting man.”
“Oh?” Willa looked in his direction. “Handsome in a rugged way.”
“Perhaps.” She had not really considered his looks that way, though he was attractive enough.
“Would you marry him?”
She coughed. “No!”
“Then he doesn’t count, either.”
“Are you considering a husband?” Lady Amelia suddenly intruded on their private conversation.
“Every single woman is considering a husband,” Willa said.
“I am not,” Lady Amelia countered with a wicked smile.
“Well…” Willa began, then gazed at Julia.
“You have been married before,” Julia pointed out.
“Yes, the very reason I will never seek another husband.” She laughed at her own joke.
But Julia and Willa were not impressed.
“One of the benefits of being a widow is the ability to take a paramour.”
Willa blushed immediately, but Julia just stared at the woman with disapproval.
“We do not discuss such things,” Julia warned her.
“Why not? Were you not looking for eligible husbands when I joined you? I believe I heard you compliment Mr. Garland. And watched you stare at the Duke of Pridegate as if he were the only man left in England. Remember, if you think the thought, then you have committed the sin.”
“Admiring men is a sin?” Willa asked sarcastically.
Amelia shook her head. “Such an innocent debutante, aren’t you? Admiration is not a sin, but lust is.”
“I do not care for your tone, Lady Amelia,” Julia said. “What is it you want?”
“I am here to give some friendly advice. Alonzo is a man of the world, not the sort to marry an inexperienced girl like you. Save yourself the humiliation of wishing for a match with him. He might shower you with attention now, but once I make my intentions clear to him, you will be but a fading memory in his mind. Find another suitor to place your hopes on.”
Shocked at her audacity, Julia could only stare at her. Willa, however, quickly took her by the hand and tugged her away. “Ignore her, she is jealous.”
“Jealous of what? She is beautiful, still young, and wealthy. What have I to offer the duke or any other man?”
Willa dragged her through the hallway and to a main door leading outside. A mirror hung on the wall, and Willa stopped in front of it.
“Perhaps you need to take a long look at yourself, Julia.”
She swatted her away. “I do not require a look in the mirror to know who and what I am. It’s just… can we forget this conversation and take a walk outside?”
“Of course,” Willa said, opening the door. “This should grant us access to the gardens at some point.”
In fact, a footpath led around the side of the house to a smaller, private garden that offered a reprieve from the noise of the crowd.
“The Duke of Stanhope has successfully created another aesthetically pleasing space,” Julia observed. “Is there no end to his beautiful flowers?” She leaned over a garden bed and breathed in the sweet scent of red roses.
“You are an admirer of my cousin’s?” A man asked from the shadows.
It was only then Julia noticed the smoke coming from the cigar he held, but could still not see his face clearly in the darkness. “If we have intruded, sir…”
“Not at all.” The Earl of Ganes stepped forward. “I am happy to see you again, Lady Julia, Lady Willa.” He bowed.
“I did not know you are related to the duke,” Willa said.
“Indeed I am, though I think my cousin regrets it sometimes.”
The ladies laughed.
“We are happy to be here,” Julia offered. “I know how difficult it is to get invited to this gathering.”
The earl nodded. “I believe you have friends here, Lady Julia.”
“Not Lady Amelia,” Willa grumbled.
Duke of Decadence (Lords of Hedonism Book 1) Page 9
