“Damnation,” said Lucien under his breath. He stood, setting the bonnet on the table. “I told that fool to wait until we had time to set Julia to rights.”
Alec swallowed his irritation and turned his attention to the lady who swept across the threshold. Angular and imposing, Lady Maddie Birlington dominated the parlor as she did every room she chose to enter. It wasn’t just her towering height, but the sheer force of a personality well used to gaining its own way.
She jabbed her gold-encrusted cane at Burroughs’ feet. “You there! See to my nephew. He is gathering my things from the carriage.”
The butler bowed. “Of course, madam.” He cast a telling glance at Alec before leaving the room.
Lady Birlington advanced. Her morning dress fluttered about her in fashionable purple and lavender folds. Her hair, an improbable shade of red, curled from beneath a startling violet-colored turban. Shrewd blue eyes narrowed on Alec.
“Well, Hunterston?” she said ungraciously. “Aren’t you going to welcome me? Not that I expect such courtesy, but it’s damned uncomfortable standing so near this drafty doorway.”
“Pray come in, Lady Birlington. It is a pleasure to see you again.” Alec was allowed to kiss her hand before she limped past him.
She settled on the settee, her back as straight as a board, then raised her thin brows. “Well? Why did you wish to see me?”
Before Alec could reply, Edmund trailed into the room. His arms overflowed with shawls, a tasseled pillow, lavender gloves, and a small, wheezing pug. The young man fixed Alec with a desperate gaze. “Sorry, but I couldn’t convince her—”
“Don’t be silly, Edmund!” Maddie interrupted. “I’m sure Hunterston knows what’s toward. He’s not such an idiot as you. Put Ephram by the fire.”
Edmund grimaced, but did as instructed, settling the dog on the pillow despite the fact that the animal tried to bite him several times.
Lady Birlington cooed at the dog, “There, there, precious angel. Sleep until we get to the bottom of this mystery.” Satisfied the dog was comfortable, her gimlet gaze flicked from Alec to Lucien. “Ah, Wexford.”
The duke bowed. “How wonderful to see you, madam. May I say you look beyond compare, as usual.”
She waved a dismissive hand, though a pleased smirk curved her mouth. “Save your Canterbury tales for your lightskirts. What are you doing here?”
“I am a frequent visitor at Hunterston House.”
“Seems too respectable of a place for you. Not a gaming hell by night, is it?”
Lucien’s mouth twitched. “No, but I intend to visit one or two before the morrow.”
“Ha! Spoken like a real man. Did you hear that, Edmund? No mealy-mouthed platitudes from him.”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied her nephew miserably, sinking into a chair with his burdens.
“You could learn a lot from Hunterston here, as well.” She gestured to Alec with her cane. “He reminds me of your great uncle.”
“Oh, God,” muttered Edmund, clapping a hand over his eyes.
The old woman ignored him. “Daresay you don’t remember. Uncle Timothy was before your time. But it was a cold Sunday in August that you didn’t find him without at least two incognitas perched on his knee. Quite a man for the ladies. At least, he was before he drank himself into a hole.”
“Thank you,” Alec said with what he hoped was a properly meek expression. “You are most gracious.”
Maddie gave a bark of laughter. “No, I’m not. But then, that’s one of the few virtues of being old.” She placed her hands on the cane’s gold knob and leaned forward. “What do you want, Hunterston? All I could get from my silly grand nephew was that you needed my help.”
Alec bowed. “I’m pleased you—”
“Poppy seeds. You may well wish me to the devil before we’re through.” She poked Edmund’s foot with her cane. “Bring me a shawl. It’s cold enough in here to freeze the Thames.”
She waited until he scrambled to settle a startling red and gold shawl about her lavender-clad shoulders before turning back to Alec. “I’d have thought you could afford a decent fire, now that you’ve inherited that fortune everyone is gabbing about.”
“Grandfather was very generous.”
Her gaze softened ever so slightly. “John was very fond of you.”
“I know.” However misguided his grandfather’s attempts to secure his happiness, Alec never doubted the old man had cared for him in his way.
Silence reigned until Edmund blurted, “We might as well go ahead and ask her. Aunt Maddie, Alec needs your help with a problem. Not that Julia is a problem. At least, not exactly. She’s more of an inconvenience.” He caught Alec’s scowl and flushed. “I mean, not an inconvenience at all, but—”
“What happened, Hunterston? Get some girl in trouble? Not a serving maid, was it?” When Edmund made a choking noise, she scowled. “If it’s not that, then what is it? Spit it out, one of you. Never met such a bunch of velvet mouths in my whole life.”
Alec stepped forward. “Lady Birlington, I was hoping you could assist my wife.”
“Don’t tell me you married that gel with that ungodly French name.”
“No, I married her cousin, Julia. She is an American.”
A look of supreme distaste crossed Maddie’s face. “Good God! No wonder you need my help. Most stubborn people in the world, Americans. Don’t care what anyone says, they have no finesse.”
“Exactly,” interjected Lucien smoothly. “What Julia needs is polishing.” A smile curved his mouth. “In fact, Hunterston here was attempting to do just that when I arrived.”
Heat crept up Alec’s neck and spread to his ears. He cast a fulminating stare at the duke before turning to Lady Birlington. “It is a requirement of my grandfather’s will that Julia and I reside within society for a year without a scandal. We need your assistance.”
“Ask Edmund’s mother. Smart gel, Eugenia, though you’d never know it to see the lummox she married,” the old woman said ungraciously.
“No, Julia needs you. She is…unusual.”
“Unusual? She hasn’t got three heads or the like, has she?”
“Aunt Maddie,” Edmund said, scandalized. “Of course Alec’s wife doesn’t have three heads!”
Maddie looked disappointed. “Well, you never know. I saw a man at a fair once that had two heads. No use in that. Now if he’d had two p—”
“Please!” interrupted Edmund in a strangled voice. “Alec was speaking of his wife.”
“I know what he was saying, you empty-headed dolt!” She stared down her nose at her great nephew until he tugged uneasily at his cravat. Then she turned her gaze to Alec. “Tell me about this chit. Is she pretty?”
He hesitated before answering. “No, but there is an undeniable quality to her.”
“Quality? Then what’s she doing with you?”
That stung. Julia was far better than he deserved, but he’d freeze in hell before he’d admit that to this outspoken old woman. “Julia and I reached an agreement.”
“Didn’t compromise her, did you?”
“Of course he didn’t,” said Edmund loyally. “Julia’s a reformer.”
“Eh?”
“I said,” said Edmund, speaking more loudly, “Julia’s a reformer.”
Maddie stared at him until he turned beet red. “You know,” she said with painful clarity, “you remind me more and more of your father every day.”
Edmund opened and closed his mouth.
Alec took the opportunity to turn the topic back to Julia. “Lady Hunterston feels very strongly about helping others. She’s the most generous person I know.”
“I met her father years ago,” Maddie said. “Handsome man with a nice leg. Met his wife, too. Couldn’t imagine what he saw in her. Plain little thing.”
“We need your help to launch her. She will be torn to shreds if it is not done right.”
Edmund nodded earnestly. “Aunt Maddie, you have to—”
“I don’t have to do anything.” She scowled. “Impertinent bunch of sapskulls.”
Anger tightened Alec’s jaw. To hell with it all. He would dress Julia in the finest silks, cover her with jewels, and dare anyone to treat her with less than respect. If they dared to so much as frown at her, he’d answer them with the end of his pistol at twenty paces!
Then his gaze fell on the bonnet, and an image of her impish smile rose before him. No matter how he wished it otherwise, he and Julia were committed to this path. And Julia, for all her belief that she was immune to such things, would take every cruelty to heart. As eccentric as Lady Birlington was, she was the only one who could help.
Feigning a sigh, Alec nodded. “You are right, milady.”
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Right about what?”
“It is too much to ask. At your age….” He shrugged.
“Age? What’s age got to do with it?” Her voice crackled with hostility.
Alec met Lucien’s cool gaze for the space of a second.
A faint smile passed over the duke’s face. “Hunterston is right. It would be too much for you, madam. I can only think of one or two people who could carry it off. Even then, it is bound to set all of London on its ears.”
Resolutely suppressing the urge to laugh at Maddie’s outraged expression, Alec sighed. “Yes, it would be a shocking thing. Daresay the prince will give the cut direct to anyone who tries to foist a plainspoken colonial onto society.”
Maddie stood with imposing dignity. “The prince is a mawkish idiot! Let him dare cut me.”
“Quite so, madam,” Alec agreed mildly.
A reluctant twinkle sparkled in Maddie’s blue eyes. “You’re a fool, Hunterston, but you’ve your grandfather’s charm. I never could say no to a man with a sense of humor. Very well. Bring the gel ’round tomorrow. God knows I’ve been bored lately. If she’s the quality you say, this could be just the thing to keep me from dying of ennui this season.”
Edmund jumped up and retrieved the forgotten shawl. “By Gad, that’s capital! I knew you’d come through, Aunt Maddie.”
“I haven’t decided if I will help or not. Won’t, ’til I’ve met Alec’s wife for myself. Now, quit standing there like a bumpkin and get Ephram.”
Her great nephew gathered the scattered objects, eyeing the snoring pug with distaste.
“Don’t forget his pillow,” reminded Maddie. She looked pointedly at Alec. “I expect you to come in the morning with your lady wife.”
“I look forward to it.”
Maddie snorted. “Edmund, stop loitering. I promised Admiral Hutchins I’d bring him some of my gout remedy.”
As her “remedy” included some of his late lordship’s best brandy, Alec had little doubt the admiral was anxiously waiting.
She limped to the door, stopping long enough to point her cane at Alec. “Ten in the morning. Don’t be late.”
“You may count on us.” Alec swept an elegant bow. “You are an angel.”
Maddie’s mouth twitched in a reluctant smile. “A good thing, too. From the sound of it, divine intervention is exactly what you are going to need.”
Chapter 9
Julia shut the door to her chamber and leaned against it, one hand covering her lips that still tingled from Alec’s kiss. Though her knees quivered like newly formed aspic, she managed to walk to the settee and collapse against the cushions.
“You are supposed to be reforming him, you wretch,” she muttered to herself. Pulling one of the pillows closer, she hugged it to her. It was the very pillow he had slept on the night before, when he had so chivalrously allowed her the use of his bed.
Darn the man. She wished he would just decide what he was: a hardened rake in need of reforming, or a pretender with a generous heart. He couldn’t be both.
Pressing a shaking hand to her temple, she leaned her cheek against the pillow. All this sensation from a simple kiss. No wonder the man was attracted to libertine activities. One could easily get addicted to the thrill of such sensations, wanting more and more, until thinking became an impossibility, and—
“Stop it,” she chastised herself. “He is a rake. A kiss means nothing to him and should mean nothing to you.”
She caught sight of her blurred reflection and put aside the pillow to stand in front of the beveled mirror. Confound the man for taking her spectacles. He seemed to be making a habit of it. Julia leaned across the gleaming wood surface until she could see her reflection.
Her hair was a mess, one curl drooping piteously over her shoulder. Yet for all her disheveled appearance, she looked amazingly alive. Of its own accord, her mouth, bruised-looking from the force of his kiss, curved in a tremulous smile. Even her eyes, her only good feature, gleamed with secret warmth. Tousled hair and all, she nonetheless appeared dazedly happy.
“Rakes are known for their lack of decorum as well as their determination to exceed the boundaries of polite society. What you need is to cease mooning about. Alec will not appreciate such a reaction to a simple embrace,” she scolded her reflection.
Yet she couldn’t quite banish the image of his gaze just before he kissed her. He was so incredibly handsome…so beyond her reach.
“He’s your husband, ninny,” she told the dreamy-eyed woman in the mirror. “The man is within easy reach—that’s the problem. Now, wash your face and fix your hair. You’ve work to do. If he ever saw you with such a bird-witted expression, he’d run as though his coattails were afire.”
That much was true. An unmistakable flicker of relief had crossed his face when Burroughs had announced the duke. Already regretting his impulse, he had shoved her behind him, as if embarrassed to have been caught kissing his own wife. Julia refused to admit how much that impulsive gesture had hurt. She rubbed a finger over her still tingling mouth. How could she help him if he kept her in such a muddle she couldn’t think?
Pushing the uncomfortable thoughts aside, Julia tried to repair her fallen hair with the few pins she had left. It wasn’t easy, but she managed a simple arrangement. If she hurried, she would have time to visit the vicar before dark. She couldn’t wait to see his face when she told him about their new funding.
The idea of establishing a factory gleamed before her, bright and beckoning. The Society needed to find an industry that was neither too difficult to establish nor too physically demanding. Charity was an anathema for most of the women they helped. They desired nothing more than to provide for themselves and their families in a respectable way.
As Julia imagined how many women would benefit from Alec’s fortune, her spirits lifted. “Nothing soothes an uneasy heart like a sense of accomplishment,” she said aloud.
A knock on the door startled her. Before she could reply, Mrs. Winston opened it and peered around the corner, her round face beaming pleasantly.
“Whomever were you speaking to, my lady?”
Julia turned from the mirror, hoping she had hidden the ravages of the kiss from the sharp-eyed housekeeper. “I was just, ah, humming.”
“Speaking to yourself, were you?” The housekeeper opened the door further and marched in with a tray. “It’s no wonder, what with the last few days you’ve had. I brought some tea to help calm your nerves.”
“Oh, how thoughtful. But I really should rejoin—”
“Now, don’t you fret. I told Burroughs to make your excuses to the gentlemen as you would be resting.” Mrs. Winston favored Julia with a motherly beam as she set the tray on a small table before the fireplace. “Johnston is carrying up your things. I had him put them in the guest room.”
“But…” Julia looked around the room. Unmistakably male with its dark blue carpet and draperies, naturally this chamber was Alec’s. Of course he would prefer her in the guest chamber and not here. She caught the housekeeper’s curious gaze and her cheeks heated. “I’m sure it is a lovely room.”
Mrs. Winston’s brows lowered. “Well. I wouldn’t say that; the dressing room is scarcely big enough to turn around in. I d
on’t know where we’ll put your new things as it is. La, I’ve never seen such bounty. You must have emptied the shops.”
“We spent much more than was necessary.” Her own weakness was to blame for that. Alec had taken such delight in buying things, she hadn’t had the heart to protest.
Julia noticed the conspicuous placement of two fine china cups beside the plate of pastries. Mrs. Winston was obviously hoping to stay for a chat. Julia had to tamp down a flicker of impatience. The Society waited, but her new duties as mistress called. She indicated the tray. “The pastries look lovely, Mrs. Winston. Perhaps you’d care to join me?”
The housekeeper’s rosy cheeks bloomed into a pleased pink. “La, I wouldn’t think of it.”
Julia poured tea into a cup and held it out to the housekeeper. “I would appreciate the company. It will keep me from having to talk to myself.”
Mrs. Winston’s face creased in a smile. “If you insist.” She sank onto the sofa and sighed with pleasure, stretching her tiny feet in front of her. Small and round, she reminded Julia of a hot cross bun fresh from the oven.
Julia sat down across from her and couldn’t help but return the warm smile. Alec’s adopted servants were delightful. Gruff Johnston, the groom, had made her laugh aloud with his glum predictions, earning her a grudging smile. He was not nearly as fearsome as he pretended. She had already warmed to Burroughs by the simple knowledge that he brought Alec an evening glass of milk. Such devotion earned her highest regard. And Mrs. Winston was so warm and motherly that Julia felt very comfortable indeed.
The housekeeper slid the plate of pastries toward Julia. “You need to eat something, my lady. Thin as a rail, you are.” She patted her own rounded stomach. “I’m trying to thin down, myself. Lucy Cockerel, the housekeeper at Lord Walcott’s, next door, told me to drink a half cup of vinegar every night afore I went to bed and I’d be as thin as a wisp in no time.”
Julia grimaced. “Pray tell me you don’t do such a noxious thing. It makes me ill just thinking about it.”
“I did try it, but only once. I couldn’t get more than a sip down and then I had the strangest dreams. I dreamt I was a potato floating in a sea of creamed sauce, sprinkled with rosemary and thyme.” The housekeeper blinked, her eyes wide. “What do you think that means? They say dreams tell the secrets of the soul.”