The Abduction of Julia (12 page)

“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.”

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 don’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.”

Julia chuckled. “I think it means you shouldn’t drink vinegar before bedtime. 1 certainly
hope
dreams are nothing more than simple imagination gone astray. I once dreamed I was a shoe someone had thrown away. An unpleasant dream, I assure you, and one I refuse to give any credence to whatsoever.”

“I suppose you are right.” Mrs. Winston looked longingly at the cakes. “Dreams or no, I simply could not continue drinking that vile stuff.”

“Good for you. You don’t need to thin down. Women should be proud of their figures, however they look,” Julia said bracingly.

Mrs. Winston looked down at her pudgy body with a doubtful eye. “Do you really think so?”

“Of course.”
Julia patted the housekeeper’s hand. “You look lovely.”

The housekeeper beamed. “I hope Master Alec appreciates what a gem he’s found.”

Julia placed a pastry on a plate and handed it to the housekeeper. “We had a bit of a tiff this morning.”

Mrs. Winston clicked her tongue. “Being difficult, is he? Well, give him some time. Master Alec can be a difficult man, but you’re sure to bring him ‘round.” Mrs. Winston poured tea into a cup and handed it to Julia.

“He has a way of sneaking into your heart just when you least expect it.”

As if she didn’t already know that. She sipped her tea. “Tell me, Mrs. Winston, does Alec look like his mother?”

“Oh, yes. Miss Anna was a beautiful child and the old lord doted on her. It nigh broke his heart when she ran off with her Scotsman.”

It was inappropriate to gossip with the servants. Julia also knew she should not shamelessly encourage them to tell her every nuance of Alec’s life. But some inner voice chided her for such silly, prudish thoughts. If she wished to help her wayward husband find the error of his wicked ways, she needed all the ammunition she could get. “If the old earl was fond of his daughter, you would think he’d allow her to marry wherever her heart led.”

“Ah, but the old lord thought Miss Anna’s beau was a brazen fortune-hunter, and he demanded that she have no more to do with the poor lad.” The housekeeper sighed. “Miss Anna would not listen. She declared that it was to be her Scotsman or no one.”

“Now I see where Alec gets his stubbornness.”

“All of them, as stubborn as they can hold together. The old lord was livid when Miss Anna refused to heed him and he threatened to lock her in her room.”

“What a silly thing to do! I’ve often noted that men, when faced with a situation they cannot control, overreact and thunder orders as if they were field marshals in some huge battle.”

“That is exactly what happened. The old lord ranted and raved like a madman.” Mrs. Winston took a sip of tea. “To give him credit, he had Miss Anna’s best interests at heart. He was just a bit overprotective.”

“Sole parents usually are.”

“La, yes. He alternately coddled and bullied her. As a result, Miss Anna was more given to her feelings than most.”

Julia refilled the housekeeper’s empty cup. “I’ve no sensibilities at all. One of my failings, I’ve been told.”

“That’s a whisker and no doubt about it,” declared Mrs. Winston stoutly. “I think you possess a very sensitive nature.”