Duke of Decadence (Lords of Hedonism Book 1)

by Violetta Rand

  “Has she done something to offend you?” he asked, looking truly concerned.

  Julia tugged at her friend’s sleeve to keep her quiet, but Willa often spoke freely to whoever would listen.

  “She insulted the two of us quite severely if you must know.”

  The earl blew out a long stream of smoke and gazed at them. “Let me be the first to apologize on behalf of my cousin the duke. Lady Amelia is prickly sometimes.”

  “For lack of a better description,” Willa mumbled.

  The earl chuckled. “You are spirited, aren’t you?”

  “I am many things, my lord,” Willa admitted.

  “We did not mean to bother you, my lord.” Julia took her friend’s hand. “I wish you a good night.”

  “No trouble at all,” he said. “Any friend of Alonzo’s is a friend of mine, remember that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alonzo had enjoyed the last two days with Julia—they had gone riding and taken several walks together—including with Lady Willa and her mother. The ladies provided the kind of company he had missed while away from England—engaging conversation with the right amount of humor to keep him genuinely entertained.

  Today he had invited Julia and her friends on a picnic on the south lawn, a place with a pond and blossoming trees. Ducks and swans graced the lake, and there was even a rowboat if the women wanted to go out on the water. Graham had joined them, happy to provide a diversion for Willa and her mother so Alonzo could speak to Julia alone.

  After eating their fill of fresh ham, cheese, bread, fruit, and lemon cake, the duke escorted her around the lake.

  “Am I to understand that Lady Amelia has been unfriendly toward you?”

  Julia looked away, obviously embarrassed. “I wish the earl hadn’t said anything.”

  “He didn’t, Lady Willa did.”

  That stole her breath. “I apologize for my friend, she is…”

  “Delightful and a loyal friend. The same as you are to her. I told you before, I admire such traits in a person.”

  “Yes, you did indeed. I believe the Earl of Ganes is your Lady Willa.”

  He chuckled. “I would hate to see him in a gown.”

  Julia laughed and playfully swatted his arm. “I did not mean it that way, Your Grace.”

  “As well I know.”

  She stopped walking and gazed up at him. “May I ask you a personal question?”

  “Of course.”

  “The name Alonzo is not common—not English.”

  “My mother was from Spain. Alonzo is an old family name. She fought with my father tirelessly to get his approval for it.”

  “I like your name very much.”

  He hoped she liked more than just his name.

  “And what about your singing? You said your father disapproved of such things.”

  “Yes, he was a traditional English duke. It was my duty to study hard at Eaton and learn how to manage our estates, not to play an instrument or sing. Those type of activities were for women, not heirs to a dukedom. But once again my dear mother prevailed, and a master teacher was sent for from Italy when I was five years old. He taught me to play the piano and sing.” Alonzo closed his eyes for a moment, pleasant memories rushing back to him. “I studied under Alexi for five years.”

  “Oh? What happened to him?”

  “He died unexpectedly on a trip home to Italy.”

  “I am truly sorry.”

  “Do not be—it taught me something very important at a young age.”

  “What is that, Your Grace?”

  “To appreciate every moment in life.” He stepped toward her and tilted her chin up, meeting her gaze. “To treasure something as precious as you.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Not the right words for light conversation. She looked like she wanted to run away but didn’t.

  “You cannot mean it.”

  “Whyever not?” He gently touched her hair, loving the soft, spun gold.

  She gave him a small smile. “You flatter women all the time, Your Grace. I do not wish to be one of them. I would rather discuss things of common interest, intelligent things instead of foolish words to entice me.”

  “I would never lie to you.” He meant it. She deserved the best of him. Even in friendship, truth would only do for Julia. “Now tell me something about yourself. Something your dear Mama imparted to you.”

  “My favorite thing?”

  “Of course.”

  “She taught me to help those less fortunate than us. How to sew and mend their clothes, even to bake bread for them. My mother disapproved of women who were afraid to work alongside servants in times of crisis.”

  He took her words in, noted the depth of her conviction. A duke’s daughter that could cook, a marvel in her own right. What other surprises did she have? “Can you make scones?”

  “I can.”

  “That is the way to my heart.”

  “I shall endeavor to remember that.”

  “Someday I will call upon your service, Lady Julia, and ask you to make me some scones.”

  “In your most desperate hour?”

  “Of course.”

  The sound of her laughter warmed his heart. He liked to see her smile, to enjoy herself so freely. Unable to resist, he took her face in his hands, admiring the way the afternoon sun highlighted the rich colors in her hair—the streaks of coppery red fascinated him. “You are beautiful.”

  “Your Grace…”

  “Alonzo.”

  “The Duke of Pridegate.”

  “Alonzo,” he said again, wanting to hear her utter his name.

  “Alonzo,” she finally whispered.

  “Yes.” He closed his eyes; one of his fantasies now fulfilled.

  “Are you unwell?”

  He opened his eyes and grinned at her. “Better than you’d ever know.” Still holding her face, he caressed her cheek, then leaned in, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. How would she react if he kissed her cheek? Did she like the feel of his hands on her? Did she want him to kiss her on the lips?

  “Do you want to kiss me?” she asked.

  “I just did.”

  “A real kiss.”

  He considered her, the way she was breathing, her wide eyes. Lady Julia had never been kissed before… and it excited him—thrilled him—lit a fire inside him. He wanted her, naked and writhing underneath him. Oh, how sweet she would taste and feel—so tight—so perfect. The thought made his body jolt.

  “Your Grace?”

  He growled and pulled her into his arms, devouring her mouth, enjoying the feel of her soft lips against his. More, he must have more. His tongue traced the shape of her lower lip, then begged entrance into her divine mouth. She gasped in surprise and opened up for him, their tongues touched, and she went stiff in his hands, but he soothed her by running his hand up her back, guiding her, kissing her with tenderness and hunger.

  Yes. She was perfect. Innocent but curious. Fire and water. Everything he had imagined.

  He played with a curl in her hair, slowly withdrawing from the kiss—not wanting to push her too far.

  “Alonzo,” she said breathlessly.

  “Did you enjoy your first kiss?”

  She stared up at him unblinking. “How do you know I have never been kissed?”

  “A man knows such things.”

  “How?”

  “I could never explain it to you.”

  “Why not?”

  “You are a woman.”

  “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

  “Is it?” he asked playfully.

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Maybe one day I will tell you the secret. Until then, you must trust me to know such things about you.”

  She sighed but seemed agreeable to letting him have his way for now.

  “Shall we return to Lady Willa and her mother?”

  “I am sure the earl would appreciate your company,” she said.

 
Alonzo knew better. “He enjoys Lady Willa’s view of the world, I think.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “There seems to be a friendship blossoming between them.”

  “Like us.”

  She accepted his arm and walked with him back to where their friends waited.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After an informal dinner and once the men joined the ladies in the drawing room, Mr. Garland sought out Julia. Though she had enjoyed his company at dinner the first night and had held several friendly conversations with him since then, tonight he seemed more keen on staying close to her—watching her, even. Perhaps he had taken her interest in him as more than friendship, but it was not in her to be rude to anyone, especially a foreigner who only seemed enthusiastic about learning more about her country.

  “Are you enjoying your time here?” she asked.

  “I am,” he said, looking rather comfortable leaning against the drawing room wall near one of the large windows. “All of the duke’s guests are unique—intelligent and refined—especially the Duke of Pridegate.”

  “He is a favorite in London Society,” Julia said.

  “Yes, I have gotten that impression after several days here. I also think he is a personal favorite of yours.”

  She could not deny it. The duke had indeed gained her respect, and if asked, she would admit she actually was starting to grow rather fond of him. “He is a friend.”

  “Friend?”

  “Yes, just that, I assure you. Why do you take such an interest in him?”

  “I believe he and I have mutual acquaintances.”

  “Oh?”

  “In fact, I wished to speak with you privately about it. To give you fair warning.”

  “Of what, exactly?” There was a touch of snobbery in his tone, as if he thought himself above reproach when it came to Alonzo, and it worried her.

  “Two unplanned guests will be making an appearance tonight,” he said quietly. “Women of influence—one with a long history with your duke.”

  Julia did not appreciate what he was implying. “Mr. Garland…”

  “You may call me Karl.”

  “No,” she refused adamantly. “I hardly know you, sir.”

  He grinned. “I had hoped to change that, Lady Julia.”

  She should excuse herself and go find Willa, but her friend had wandered off with her mother and the earl. As for Alonzo, he was nowhere to be seen at the moment, so that left Julia at the mercy of Mr. Garland. “I am not the sort of woman looking for an assignation.”

  He looked truly scandalized at first, but then a wicked smile crept across his features and he stared at her with heat in his eyes, making her feel uncomfortable, like she needed a long, hot bath.

  “I would have never assumed a lady such as yourself—an innocent—would even know of such things.”

  “I am no child, Mr. Garland.”

  “But you are not a full-fledged woman, either.”

  He reached for her hand, which she subtly avoided by shifting to her left. “Whatever I am, we should not be discussing such matters. Though I am curious who will be joining us.”

  “I thought you would be,” he said snidely.

  “Will you enlighten me?”

  “I would rather wait and see how you react naturally to her presence.”

  “I take it you revere this woman?”

  “I do.” He gazed toward the drawing room doors that opened into a hall and the curved staircase leading upstairs to the guest chambers. “She is an American.”

  “Did you not say two women would be joining us?” How she wished Hamlin, her lady’s maid, had been able to get that guest list! Apparently, the duke kept his important papers locked in his study with a servant constantly watching the door. There had been no chance of procuring it.

  “Yes. The lady’s mother will be joining us, too.”

  “Can you not name this mystery woman?” As practiced in good manners as Julia was, he had piqued her interest. Even she appreciated the occasional morsel of news.

  “There is no need to wait any longer,” he said, moving toward the door. “I will be happy to introduce you to my half-sister, Madeline Hershey.”

  She followed in his wake, admiring the slim blonde who ascended the stairs, her gown the same shade of blue as her eyes, icy blue, with strings of silver beads decorating the hemline and bustline. Two white feathers adorned her hair, and a fine, gold choker with a blood-red stone drew Julia’s attention to her throat. There was something treacherous about the woman—perhaps the unseemly gleam in her eyes or the way she gazed at her brother and then at Julia.

  A cold beauty, that’s what she considered Mr. Garland’s sister, but a beauty nonetheless. And what history did she have with the duke? Should she be worried? Of course, why else would Mr. Garland plant such a seed in her mind? He wanted to start trouble between herself and Alonzo. Out of jealousy? Rivalry? Perhaps Willa had been correct—the American had indeed taken an interest in her.

  “Lady Julia, I am honored to introduce my sister, Miss Madeline Hershey.”

  Julia curtsied. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Hershey.”

  “It is a delight to finally meet you,” the woman said, not returning the curtsey but simply inclining her head. “I have heard so much about you.”

  “Oh? From who?”

  Mr. Garland gave his sister a severe look, then his smile returned.

  “I must apologize,” Miss Hershey said. “There has been a flourish of activity since I arrived from America last week. I have mistaken you for someone else, I believe.”

  Even if Julia did not believe her, she would never say so. However, it didn’t mean she had to spend more time with her. “I wish you a comfortable visit,” she said. “I am needed elsewhere.”

  “Until later.” Mr. Garland caught Julia’s gloved hand and kissed her knuckles. “I look forward to finishing our conversation.”

  *

  “Is that Madeline Hershey?” Alonzo had seen the carriage arrive and watched as his former lover, her mother, and servants were escorted inside. Yes, as he had feared, not only were her letters following him across the Continent and now to England, the woman herself was bloody well trailing him, too.

  “I’m afraid it is,” the Earl of Ganes said. “She is a romp of the first order, is she not?”

  “Her sudden appearance here is most disturbing.” He cursed under his breath, damning the night he had met and seduced her two years ago. The affair had been brief and wild. From the beginning, Madeline had grown possessive and jealous, questioning his every move, making inappropriate demands—like canceling his performances across France.

  The day he informed her that their relationship was over, she had sliced her wrist in protest, threatening to do it again if he left her.

  “I am sorry, old friend. We had to know—you especially—that one of us would eventually have to pay for our sins.”

  “What sins exactly?” He flashed a look of irritation at his friend. Being held prisoner by Madeline’s threat to kill herself had surely changed Alonzo’s mind about the kind of women he sought out. He refused to be put in that position again.

  “Pleasure.”

  “What a man and woman share together in the bedchamber should never be considered a sin.” Alonzo crossed his legs, reclined in the comfortable, leather chair in the library, and sipped his brandy. He might require drinking a full bottle in order to deal with Maddie.

  “That’s wishful thinking, old chap.” Ganes tossed back his brandy. “Miss Hershey is determined to see you in the parson’s noose.”

  The duke chuckled mirthlessly, remembering how the scheming woman had started a scandal once she realized her threats of physical harm had failed to keep him around. That scandal had sent him out of England for over a year. His reputation had recovered, but hers… what was the blasted hoyden up to?

  “Her mama caught you in a compromising situation with her daughter, if I remember correctly,” Ganes said wryly.


  “More like a compromising position.” Madeline had been completely naked and on top of him in his bed.

  “Do you want me to do what I do best?” his friend asked.

  Alonzo scratched his head, seriously considering it. How could he justify asking him to do the very thing he offered to pay him not to do a few days ago? Yet, the duke did not believe in coincidences, so he could only assume that Maddie was here for all the wrong reasons.

  “Yes,” he finally accepted Ganes’s offer. “Do whatever you must to keep her away from Lady Julia.”

  The earl set his glass down on the nearby desk. “How do things stand between you and the lady?”

  “I have enjoyed her company immensely.”

  “That is it?”

  “Have I not told you before, I do not kiss and tell, Ganes. I will leave that to you.”

  The earl laughed. “You care for her.”

  Alonzo gazed at him. “I do.”

  “You are considering an offer of marriage.”

  He rolled his eyes and his lips hitched up in a grin. “If things continue to progress between us, I might consider such an arrangement.”

  “You should have placed a bet on the book at White’s.”

  “On myself?”

  “Whyever not?”

  “It seems rather presumptive, don’t you think?”

  The earl thought about it for a brief moment. “Not for the scourge of London.”

  “Now I am a scourge?”

  “Where debutantes are concerned.”

  “You have a twisted opinion of me, Ganes, why?”

  “You set the precedence for all of us. Taught us to aim high and not allow anyone to get in our way.”

  “By us, you mean yourself, Ramsey, Colt, and Jessie?”

  “I do.”

  He had never intended to be the leader of their club. Never intended to lower their moral resolve and turn them into lords of debauchery. But he had by acting the way he did. And now he was being praised for it. “Graham,” he said seriously. “I am tired of not having a home—nothing to protect and believe in. I will be thirty years old next year. It is time to make a commitment to my family and title.”

  “Do not allow me to dissuade you, Your Grace,” the earl said. “As I see it, we’re both going to hell no matter what we do. So whatever we can do to make things right now, we should. And I intend to help you.”