All Night with a Rogue: Lords of Vice

by Alexandra Hawkins

  “And the second?”

  “You must end your friendship with Sinclair.” The marchioness’s eyes softened at Juliana’s soft gasp. “Forgive me, Daughter, if this causes you pain. Nevertheless, Lord Gomfrey was most specific.”

  Two hours later, Juliana arrived by carriage at her cousin’s town house. She had been unaware of her final destination when she had left her mother. With their argument ringing in Juliana’s ears, she had ordered her coachman to drive through London. The carriage ambled up and down the streets for a good part of an hour before she noticed where she was. When the refined façade of Nox came into view, she almost begged the coachman to halt.

  Since most gentlemen spent more time within their clubs than their own private residences, Juliana suspected Sin was behind those exclusive doors, laughing with his friends and discussing matters that were best not pondered by her.

  In the end, she held her breath as her carriage slowly rumbled past the club, desperately wishing she had had the courage to tell him that she needed him. However, it was unfair to involve him, and more to the point, she was ashamed of the trouble her mother’s gambling had wrought.

  After all, a lady had her pride.

  No, whether Juliana liked it or not, her cousin was the gentleman in the position to assist her. Besides, it was in his best interest to keep the matter within the family.

  Juliana approached the front door of the town house with a dispassionate expression on her face. The residence had once belonged to her family. Whenever her parents had traveled to London, Juliana and her sisters had remained at Ivers Hall. The grand residence did not hold a place in her heart as Ivers Hall once had. It belonged to her cousin now, and he was entitled to it.

  “Wait here,” she told the footman as he helped her step down from the carriage. “I will not be long.”

  The servant had already knocked on her cousin’s door to inquire if the marquess was at home. The butler had told him that Lord Duncombe would be receiving callers in the afternoon. Her calling card assured her an early audience.

  As she stepped into the dim entrance hall, her cousin was descending the stairs. Juliana did not take this informality as a good sign. Why would he go to the trouble of greeting her when all he had to do was simply wait for his butler to announce her in the drawing room?

  “Cousin,” Juliana said, curtsying as he approached. “You look well.”

  Lord Duncombe raised his brows at the compliment. Dismissing the butler, the marquess clasped his hands around his back as he circled around her. “You, to be perfectly blunt, do not, Cousin. What brings you to my door at this early hour?”

  He was far from welcoming. If they had been close, he would have escorted her to the drawing room or even his library. Instead, she was standing in the front hall like an unwanted guest. Perhaps she should count herself fortunate that he would see her at all.

  “Well?”

  Be forthright, she privately counseled herself. Her cousin would not respect a meandering approach.

  “Maman is in trouble.”

  He snorted. “Gambling trouble, I assume.”

  Juliana lifted her chin at his derisive tone. “Yes. I am told Lord Gomfrey holds her promissory note and the debt is considerable.”

  The marquess chuckled softly. “I am certain it is. Lord Gomfrey is not one to trifle with at the card table. Your mother was aware of his reputation.”

  “My lord, be that as it may, we have need of your assistance.”

  “No.”

  The simple monosyllable wiped away Juliana’s prepared appeal. Momentarily speechless, she stared at him as she attempted to gather her scattered thoughts. She glanced longingly at the chairs positioned along the left wall. Since Lord Duncombe had not deigned to offer her the small courtesy, it bordered on rudeness to simply sit down.

  “I do not think you understand the severity of the situation,” she said, her hands gripping her reticule so tightly that the tips of her fingers tingled. “Lord Gomfrey expects the note to be paid off by dusk.”

  Lord Duncombe frowned and then straightened the sleeve of his coat with a firm tug at the cuff. “Terms, I assume, your mother agreed upon.”

  Her cousin was so cold. She wondered if he had ever cared for anyone other than himself. He had showed more concern about the proper alignment of his sleeves rather than her mother’s predicament. “Yes.”

  He lifted his head, his cool gray eyes pinning Juliana in place. “Then it is up to your mother to face her obligations.”

  Juliana’s stomach roiled in protest at his callousness. “M-Maman is unable to meet these obligations without your assistance. You and I both know this to be true. How can you be so cruel as to turn your back on your family?”

  “Family?” Lord Duncombe stalked toward her, causing her to retreat until her back was pressed against the door. “Is that a declaration of love, Cousin?”

  He stood so close, Juliana could feel the heat radiating from his body. If his purpose was to intimidate her, he was succeeding. Her reaction only made him laugh.

  “Our connection is merely an accident of birth, Lady Juliana. Your affection for me is as meager as your mother’s purse.”

  Juliana loathed that he was correct. It mattered little that he had done nothing to earn the respect and affection of the Ivers women. She would not be standing in Lord Duncombe’s front hall if she did not need his wealth to save her mother.

  Juliana took a fortifying breath and deliberately looked him in the eye. “If Lord Gomfrey pursues this in the courts, there will be a scandal. The family’s name—”

  “The family’s name?” He scratched his left brow. “Is that the best you can do? You are such a clever young lady. I expected more logic and less emotion from you.”

  “As head of our family—,” she began.

  “Now you will lecture me on my duty!” The marquess moved away from her and gestured broadly to the empty chairs in the hall. “I will tell you about duty, my lady. It is my duty to bear the Duncombe title with honor, nurture the wealth and lands in my stewardship, and marry well so that my seed will one day inherit everything I have protected. I understand my duty.”

  “This will ruin Maman,” Juliana said softly.

  “Mayhap then she will learn her place,” Lord Duncombe thundered back. “Your mother has gained an unpleasant reputation for not honoring her promises. I cannot say that I am surprised, considering my own dealings with the woman.”

  Anger sparked in Juliana’s green eyes. “What promises? Maman always meets her obligations.”

  Eventually.

  “Always with my assistance, Lady Juliana!” he shouted, his words echoing. “Are you aware of how many occasions your mother has written me about my duty to you and your sisters? No? Did your mother also forget to tell you that I sent money every time it was asked, no, dare I say, demanded?”

  Juliana blinked back the sting of her tears, refusing to cry in front of Lord Duncombe. She would never give him the satisfaction.

  “I was unaware of the loans that you made to my mother.”

  “Indeed. Then I can assume that you were unaware of the promise that I demanded from your mother six months ago when she once again begged for my assistance.”

  “What promise?”

  He sneered, believing Juliana was feigning ignorance. “I was willing to pay off your mother’s debt with one stipulation: she was not to bring you and your sisters to London.”

  “Maman mentioned that you would be vexed when word reached you that we were residing in London for the season, but she did not explain the reasons for it.” Juliana gave him a sullen glance. “Besides, everything about Maman seems to vex you. No doubt, she believed you could think worse of her.”

  “Your mother was wrong,” Lord Duncombe snapped. Ignoring Juliana’s gasp, he reached behind her and opened the door. “Good day, Cousin. If you wish, you may send my condolences to your mother. It is all that she will receive from me.”

  Juliana stepped through
the doorway and into the bright sunshine. Lord Duncombe shut the door firmly behind her. She shielded her eyes as she made her way to the carriage. How silly of her to have forgotten her parasol. The sun was almost blinding.

  As she settled into the carriage, Juliana desperately wanted to despise the marquess for his indifference. She had not known about all the loans Maman had begged from him. Lord Duncombe was a patronizing prig, but he had yet to prove himself to be a liar. Why had Maman not told her about the money and her promise not to travel to London?

  The marquess suspected it was the rich purses that had lured her into town. Juliana disagreed. In spite of all Lady Duncombe’s faults, she loved her daughters. She wanted to see her daughters settled into their own households, not locked away in their rented cottage in the country. A season in London would have been viewed as crucial to the marchioness’s plans, even if it meant defying Lord Duncombe’s dictates.

  “Oh, Maman,” Juliana sighed, oblivious to street activity rolling by as she returned to the town house.

  Her dark thoughts eventually led her back to Sin. Juliana was tempted to order the coachman to take her to the Sinclair residence. If he was not at home, she could wait for him. How would the unrepentant rogue react if Juliana, upon his arrival, collapsed hysterically into his arms? She chuckled softly. If the man possessed an ounce of sense, he would drag her to her carriage, toss her in, and send her on her way.

  Perhaps she was being unkind. Sin was a good man. He was just incapable of offering more than a temporary diversion. Had he not warned her of his flaws from the very beginning? It was unfair to turn to a gentleman who diligently strived to avoid all entanglements.

  Now I am lying to myself!

  Those were not the real reasons why she was reluctant to involve Sin in her family’s problems. Juliana feared that Sin would challenge Lord Gomfrey once he heard the gentleman’s terms. Sin would feel obligated to defend her good name. She refused to risk his life over a gambling debt.

  Not for her.

  Juliana would have to be the one to end their affair.

  Her stomach burned at the thought.

  How does one go about discarding a lover? One misstep and she still might provoke her jilted lover into challenging Lord Gomfrey.

  If something happened to Sin, my heart would shatter—

  She blinked and straightened at the silent admission.

  Love.

  Did she love Sin? No. No-no-no! She stomped the floorboards of the carriage to punctuate her denial. Cordelia and Lucilla were the ones who fell in love whenever a gentleman glanced in their direction.

  Would her quandary amuse Sin if he were sitting beside her? Or would he pity her? He had warned her not to confuse passion with love, and she had assured him that she was aware of the difference.

  She had warned herself not to fall in love with him.

  Juliana buried her face into her gloved hands and groaned. She and her mother had something in common. Neither of them seemed capable of keeping her word.

  The depressing revelation clung to Juliana like an oily shadow as she disembarked from the carriage and entered the town house. She found her mother in the study with the housekeeper. They had been discussing the menu for the week when Juliana hesitated at the threshold.

  “How was your walk?” the marchioness inquired after she dismissed the servant.

  “Most unrewarding.”

  The marchioness wearily nodded. For the first time, Juliana wondered if her mother had guessed the true reason why she had left the house.

  “I have come to a decision.” She clutched the door frame for support. “Since Lord Gomfrey is calling in your promissory note, I see no alternative but to accept his vile terms. I will agree to this courtship.”

  “Juliana.” Her mother opened her arms and moved forward to embrace her.

  “Please.” She held up her hand, halting her mother’s approach. “I feel so fragile I might shatter. I need to be strong. For me. For all of us.”

  Her mother bowed her head. “If there was any other way . . .”

  Juliana slowly turned and began to walk away. “Send word to Lord Gomfrey. He shall have his pound of flesh.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “TWO IMPERIAL SUMMONSES in one week,” Hunter teased Alexius as they entered the lobby of the theater with Saint, Reign, and Dare lagging behind them. “What have you done lately to upset the ice queen?”

  Alexius gave his friend a pained look. “I would appreciate it if you would cease referring to my sister as the ice queen. If word gets back to her, she will most likely insist that I do something to silence you.”

  A hand clamped affectionately on Alexius’s shoulder. “If you need assistance, I would be happy to volunteer,” Dare offered. “Silence from Hunter would be worth bloodying my knuckles.”

  “And upset Lady Allegra?” Hunter placed his hand over his heart and fluttered his lashes in a feminine manner. “Heaven forbid. Perhaps if you plead on bended knee she will tend your manly wounds.”

  With the body build of a pugilist, Dare took an intimidating step toward the duke.

  Saint blocked Dare’s slow, deliberate stalk with his arm. “Think of where we are. Save the bloodshed for later.”

  Alexius grimly nodded. “It took a substantial bribe to convince the manager not to ban us because of our last unfortunate brawl in one of the private boxes.” He glared pointedly at Hunter.

  The Duke of Huntsley bristled at the accusation. “Blame Vane and Frost. They were the ones who foolishly asked Lady Wodgen if she had plumped her breasts by tucking rags into her corset. Both had bedded the silly wench before her marriage to the Earl of Wodgen, and neither could recall fondling such a generous bounty.”

  “Christ,” Alexius muttered under his breath. Wodgen had been out for blood that night. Perhaps it had been wise to ask his friends to join him as he satisfied his sister’s curiosity about why his affair with Juliana had continued in spite of Belinda’s continual demands that he carry out her plan and cast the lady aside. “I have no plans to linger in my sister’s private box.”

  Once he had suffered Belinda’s displeasure, he intended to seek out the lady who was the focus of his sister’s ire. In the afternoon, one of the Ivers footmen had delivered to his residence a rather odd note from Juliana. She had written of the need to meet with him, but the missive lacked the warmth he usually associated with the lady.

  Alexius sensed something was amiss in the Ivers household.

  Whatever the problem, he would fix it. He was an expert at soothing hurt feelings and imagined slights.

  “I trust all of you can control your baser instincts for an hour.”

  Dare looked at him incredulously. “Settle for half that time. Frost and Vane are unfettered and lurking somewhere.”

  Lord Gomfrey held on to Juliana’s elbow until she was seated. A casual observer might consider his actions solicitous. Juliana suspected the gentleman was worried that his newly bought companion would slip away.

  The earl was astute.

  As her unwanted suitor settled in next to her, Juliana was half-tempted to fling herself off the balcony. While such an attempt would be highly dramatic, it was doubtful that the fall would kill her. Besides, she had made a promise. Summer’s end was scarcely three months away.

  “Are you comfortable, Lady Juliana?”

  Only when you keep your hands to yourself.

  Her lips quivered as she forced the soft flesh to curve into a faint smile. “Yes. It is kind of you to inquire.”

  Encouraged by her politeness, the earl leaned closer. “My dear, forgive me for not including your sisters on our first outing. I realized their presence would have eased your nerves. Nevertheless, this evening is a public declaration of our courtship. I hope you will indulge me.”

  “Courtship?” she said derisively.

  “Merely a polite deception, my dear, to satisfy the ton,” he explained, patting her hand. “After all, your sisters still hope to marry well. Th
ere is no reason to ruin their noble ambitions with a scandal as long as I am pleased with your performance. Besides, as I told your mother, I could do worse for a bride.”

  The orchestra had begun to play the first music, though no one, above or below, would likely pay attention until they played the overture. The boxes all around Juliana were brimming with their elegantly dressed patrons as they mulled about paying their respects to friends, enemies, and the curious.

  Juliana squirmed in her seat, sensing that she had just fallen into the latter category. She was Lord Gomfrey’s silken prize, and he was silently displaying her for all and sundry.

  Where was Sin?

  She had yet to tell him that she could no longer see him.

  Gomfrey had never doubted that Juliana would accept his offer, and arrangements had been made while she had been at her cousin’s residence begging for his assistance.

  Juliana had sent one of the footmen to Sin’s residence in hopes of summoning him to her house. However, as each hour passed, there had been no sign of Sin. Any chance of telling him that their affair had come to its fated conclusion waned as daylight blurred into twilight.

  When her mother voiced her concern about Sin, Juliana burst into tears and locked herself into her bedchamber.

  This was not the way she wanted Sin to learn about her sudden interest in the earl. Neither would a note have sufficed. Tomorrow she vowed to go to his residence and confront him. If he was not at home, then she would go to Nox. His friends would know where she could find him.

  Sin never attends the theater.

  The realization gave her comfort. Had he not told her on several occasions that he abhorred the theater? Juliana imagined that Sin was spending his evening at Nox or he was roaming London with his friends.

  There was still time.

  Tomorrow she would say farewell to Sin, and he might very well tell her to go to the devil.

  It seemed appropriate, since Juliana was already in the devil’s clutches and there was no chance of escape.

  Lady Gredell was holding court in her private box when Alexius arrived with his friends. She looked resplendent in her silver evening dress. It must have taken her maid hours to curl his sister’s waist-length sleek midnight-colored tresses and then artfully arrange them so the curls brushed her bared shoulders. Diamonds glittered from her throat, wrists, and gloved fingers.