She could have said doomed…
“Are we, Lady Julia?” he teased as he stepped closer. “Perhaps you are following me.”
He smiled wryly at her snort of rejection.
“Do you not have enough women following you? Chasing you from what I’ve been told.”
“Ah, yes,” he said, standing in front of her now, able to see her features clearly thanks to two sconces with lit candles hanging on the walls of the gazebo. “I am afraid that is the very thing that brought me into Lady Willa’s bookshop yesterday.”
“Which would also explain the torn fabric of your morning coat.” She lowered her head, looking ashamed for some reason.
“One of my favorite coats, I must say. Tell me, Lady Julia, why did you not believe I was a duke?”
She looked up again, her dark eyes as piercing and haunting as the three-quarter moon. “The general condition of your garments did make me doubt you, as did your abrupt behavior.”
He chuckled. “I am afraid my sudden return to London has stirred normally well-behaved ladies into a frenzy.”
She shook her head. “Is it easy?”
“Is what easy?”
“Living with such conceit?”
By God she made him feel things that he shouldn’t for a woman who continued to insult him so openly—her impertinent mouth in need of kissing—and perhaps something else he’d rather not give voice to. “I could ask the same of you.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Easily so. How can you live with your self-righteousness? I think you dislike any man holding a title.”
Her jaw clenched, but she did not frown. “No. Just you.”
That made him laugh. “Perhaps I should leave you to your thoughts, madam.” He started to go.
“Wait,” she said.
He leaned his hip against the wall of the gazebo. “May I be of service?”
“I-I…” She sighed and looked away from him, obviously frustrated. “I have been unfair.”
“You have?”
“Why must you answer every statement I make with a question?”
“Perhaps what you say is shocking, if not scandalous.”
“Scandalous?”
“Now you are answering my statement with a question, Lady Julia.”
“Oh!” She wrapped her arms around her middle.
“Let us start over, shall we? I will endeavor not to irritate you if you will do the same for me.”
She nodded. “I can see no fault in such an arrangement.”
“Good,” he said, flashing his teeth at her. “Now, if one of us doesn’t go back inside, I am afraid your reputation will be hopelessly tarnished.”
“B-but it’s a house party, and I have seen people strolling through the garden.”
“Yes,” he said. “But I am the Duke of Pridegate, a lord of hedonism as the scandal sheets call me. You are but a young lady, and entirely unsafe with me.”
“I think you enjoy being the cause of such gossip.”
He shrugged. “It matters little what I think. The public has deemed me a menace where innocent debutantes are concerned.”
“I am no debutante.”
His gaze wandered languidly over her. “No, you are a bluestocking.”
“A designation I proudly accept!” She stood, clearly offended. “Does a woman of intelligence make you uncomfortable, Your Grace?”
“No,” he growled, her pride a point of contention and the cause of the painful erection plaguing him. “But it does make my pantaloons fit a bit tighter.”
His lips eased into a wicked smile, for he had meant to jolt her, to give her reason to run away before he took her in his arms and kissed her silly.
“You…”
“Yes?” He waited for her to finish her thought as she bolted out of the gazebo and onto the footpath leading back to the townhouse.
“Go back to France. Or Italy. Wherever creatures such as yourself are given leave to act as reprehensibly as you have tonight.”
He regretted the way he had treated her, but such untoward behavior was necessary sometimes to safeguard his sanity and plans for the future.
Chapter Nine
Six days later…
The small bookshop located on St. James’s was surprisingly busy for a Wednesday afternoon. Alonzo should know, for he had been watching it since this morning, curious about the life Lady Julia lived. He had attempted to forget her the night she fled the garden, having been so easily offended by his vulgar yet honest words about what she did to his body, though unintentionally. That much he knew about her. She had an unusual aversion for men of the haute ton. Almost hatred from what had been described to him by close friends—gentlemen who had offered for her but been promptly dismissed on the grounds of their titles and wealth.
Madness ran in some families, especially the ancient lines of Britain where families intermarried for centuries. And Lady Julia’s kin could boast being one of those old and respected original bloodlines.
“Well?” the Earl of Ganes disrupted his thoughts. “What is the point of standing here all day if you do not intend on going inside that shop?” He took out his gold pocket watch and sighed as if inconvenienced by the duke’s dilemma. “What could she possibly say about you?”
Alonzo shrugged. “Under any other circumstances I would not give a damn. But there’s something about Julia Castle that has stayed with me from the moment I laid eyes on her.”
Graham chuckled. “Lust.”
Alonzo could not deny it, and a smile crept across his face. “Something far more important than that base feeling.”
“She’s a duke’s daughter and you, my friend, are a duke. Seems to be a natural attraction, an intelligent match. Go inside, declare your intentions to speak with the lady’s sire, and get on with it.”
Alonzo’s expression sobered. “I never mentioned marriage.”
“Why else should we stalk her every movement?”
“I owe her an apology, nothing more.”
“Christ.” The earl raked his fingers through his hair. “Did something happen before you came home? Perhaps a blow to the head?”
Alonzo clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Come with me.” He looked in both directions before crossing the busy street and standing in front of Willa Bradbury’s shop. “Her friend, the proprietor of this establishment, is the daughter of an earl—what did you call it—natural attraction?”
Graham tugged on his jacket. “I am most certainly not in the market for a wife. Especially one in business.”
“Then we understand each other perfectly,” Alonzo said as he braved opening the door and stepping inside the shop.
To his surprise, it was well-lit and comfortable inside. Not a speck of dust dirtied the oak shelves or leather chairs arranged comfortably in front of a marble hearth. Five aisles of shelves ran along the narrow but long space, and there were several doors off to the left, suggesting more areas housing manuscripts and whatever other wares Lady Willa sold.
He immediately recognized Lady Julia’s friend. Though not dressed as elegantly as she had been at the musicale, she wore a fashionable muslin day dress with her red hair pulled back in a flattering manner. Of course the woman would not forget him, and smiled as soon as she saw him.
“Your Grace,” she said, giving him an informal curtsey. “What has brought you here today?”
Alonzo considered her briefly. Women who smiled so sweetly often harbored the deepest secrets. “If I may present the Earl of Ganes, madam.” He stepped aside, gesturing at his friend.
“Sir.” She once again lowered herself in practiced respect. “Is there a certain title I can find for you? Perhaps a copy of The Times or The Morning Post, though I wouldn’t suggest…” Her voice trailed off.
“Wouldn’t suggest what, Lady Willa?” the duke asked.
“I enjoyed your performance, Your Grace. Few opera greats could out-sing you.”
Why had she changed the subject so abruptly? “I am glad you
were able to attend. As you know, the Season is drawing to an end, and I am afraid the countess’s musicale is the only chance I will have to sing in public until the Christmastide.”
“Oh?” she asked. “Are you traveling so soon after your return home?”
“No at all,” he answered. “My personal obligations are many.”
“I am sure Lady Jane and Lady Anastasia are thrilled to have you home.”
He had not expected that. “You are acquainted with my sisters?”
“Indeed.” She smiled. “We share common friends.”
Though she continued to smile prettily, he recognized the sadness of loss in her eyes. She, too, had suffered from the death of a parent, where Alonzo had lost both of his. A curse no one should suffer at a tender age. It altered the soul forever, strangling joy and hope a little more every day until one sought ways to numb the pain or forget it completely.
“I would be happy to personally deliver any message you have for my sisters.” Alonzo looked about for the earl, but found him across the room exploring the bookshelves. “I wonder what he is searching for?”
“That is the ancient history section,” she offered. “One of our most popular genres.”
“Graham has always been obsessed with the military and war—the Greeks and Romans, specifically.”
“I am fascinated by history,” she said with understanding.
“And what period best holds your interest, Lady Willa?”
“Willa?”
Alonzo could not mistake that melodic voice or whom it belonged to. He turned to see the surprised look on Julia’s face. And when she was done staring at her friend, her eyes narrowed on him, an unmistakable grimace of displeasure that he would dare show up where she spent time.
“Look who has come to visit, Julia,” Willa attempted to cheer her friend.
“Unannounced,” she said.
“This is a shop, Julia,” Willa said.
“Uninvited,” Julia continued, hugging a rather large volume to her chest.
“And most certainly not unintentionally,” the duke tossed at her.
“Of course not,” she said. “I imagine everything you do, Your Grace, is calculated and executed perfectly.”
Her open disdain made him laugh. “Lady Julia, I fear we misunderstand each other.”
Uncomfortable silence stretched between them before Willa spoke again.
“Perhaps you would like a tour of the shop, Your Grace. Lady Julia had a strong influence on how my mother and I designed the interior, including…”
“His Grace undoubtedly has better things to do than wander aimlessly about our beloved bookshelves.”
“On the contrary,” he said. “I would be delighted to see your shop.”
For a moment, Alonzo thought he saw steam coming out of the lovely Lady Julia’s ears, for she gave him another deadly glare, which he took as a personal challenge. He had never encountered a more obstinate female, a characteristic he appreciated, unlike most men. The need to win her friendship, to seduce her, to kiss those stern but full lips, sent a thrilling shiver up his spine. She could not cover up her attraction for him. Beyond opera, women were his specialty. He could smell desire at a hundred paces, and though there were only a few feet between them, her physical language begged him to draw closer. So he did, eyeing the book in her arms.
“If I may ask, what tome has caught your attention today that you hug it so protectively?”
Willa cleared her throat delicately and indicated the earl. “Would the earl care to join us for the tour?”
Alonzo considered it. “He seems content with the book he is reading.” He turned his attention back to Lady Julia. “The volume in your arms, madam?”
“What about it, Your Grace?”
“May I see it?”
Her gaze darted to Lady Willa, then back to him. “No.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, not accustomed to being denied anything.
“No,” she said again.
“Julia,” Willa urged. “What harm in sharing it?”
She appeared truly shaken by the request. But in all honesty, what could she do? Unless it was an unbecoming title for a young woman to read—an erotic tale written specifically for females—which were growing in popularity, though no woman in her right mind would carry such a book around in public.
“Didn’t Mother offer to serve tea at two?” Willa asked suddenly. She gazed at the clock on the wall. “We are late. Please go and tell her I am otherwise engaged, but to please enjoy her refreshments with you.”
Julia’s expression softened as she, too, looked at the clock and nodded. “Yes. I had nearly forgotten.” She started to turn away, but then offered the book she held to her friend. “I find I no longer wish to purchase this title.”
Willa accepted it and then watched her walk away.
“I must apologize, Your Grace,” she said just above a whisper. “Lady Julia is usually the perfect example of manners and duty. For some reason…”
“I make her crazy?”
She looked startled at first, but then nodded with a smile. “Yes, there is that.”
Good, at least he and Lady Willa could be friends. “What about the book? Is it still for sale?”
She acknowledged the leather-bound manuscript in her hands, though the front was face-down, not revealing the title or author of the work. “I’m confused by her sudden disinterest in it, for she has had her nose buried in the pages all morning. Until she…”
“Saw me?” he finished for her, gesturing for Willa to give him the book.
“You are very insightful, Your Grace.” She gladly surrendered the tome.
Alonzo was surprised by its weight and turned it over. Printed in an elegant gold script, the title both amazed and humored him—Opera’s Great Lovers.
Chapter Ten
“Oh dear,” Willa said.
No wonder Lady Julia did not want him to see what she had been reading. As he opened the book and thumbed through the pages, he found his name and rather long biography toward the middle. He scanned the first page where a likeness of him had been drawn. Whoever the artist was, he had captured his face perfectly, especially his wry smile, the one he flashed at women he wanted to bed.
“I would like to purchase this,” he said, closing it.
“Of course,” she said. “I will have it delivered to your townhouse tomorrow.”
“No. I prefer to take it with me.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
“Now, if you’d care to start at the front of the shop, you’ll find two areas where gentlemen can gather and comfortably sit while discussing history or even politics. We offer tea and coffee, and of course the best pastries from the confectioner across the street.”
He walked beside her, genuinely admiring the furnishings and even the framed pictures on the walls. Someone had gone to great expense to make this place luxurious enough to draw the interest of titled gentlemen. For several he knew were currently seated and reading.
Toward the back of the shop, there was a more femininely decorated area closed off from the rest of the store. An ornate, round table one might find in a breakfast room with eight matching chairs, a small hearth, and rich tapestries on the walls provided an elegance he could see any women of taste enjoying. There was a sideboard with silver service pieces containing cake and cookies, a tea set, and orgeat lemonade in a crystal pitcher.
“A private area for women to come and safely read books their families might not approve of them owning.”
Alonzo stared at her in awe. “How many people know about this arrangement, Lady Willa?”
She lowered her gaze. “Only a handful, sir.”
“And would I be guessing correctly if I said Lady Julia designed this area?”
She met his gaze. “Lady Julia is a wonderful person—generous and loving. Without her, my mother, the dowager countess and I, would be living in a ramshackle cottage in a place no one would ever come to visit—forgotten even.
”
“You mistake my intent, Lady Willa. I rather admire Lady Julia’s adventurous spirit. No one could say she is typical.”
“No,” she agreed. “She is the best of women, though undisciplined at times and completely dedicated to her political and intellectual beliefs.”
“I am beginning to get a deeper sense of who and what she is.”
Willa gave him a sideways glance. “You are serious, then? You like her.”
“If I said I wasn’t intrigued, you’d consider me a liar.”
“Perhaps.”
“Willa?”
Lady Willa acknowledged her mother immediately. “Mama.”
“Why didn’t you tell me we had guests? Forgive my daughter’s informal manner, Your Grace.”
Willa blushed. “Mother, may I present the Duke of Pridegate. Your Grace, my mother, Lady Bradbury.”
The duke bowed, glad to meet the dowager countess. “I thank you for the pleasure of your daughter’s company. She has made my first experience in your shop memorable. The next time I seek a book, I will come here.”
The dowager countess stared at the book in his hand. “I see you have found something of interest already.”
“Yes,” he said. “Though I must credit Lady Julia for pointing it out to me.”
Lady Bradbury gave him a smile. “Lady Julia is indispensable.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
“Will you join us for tea?” she asked. “And of course, the earl must come, too.”
“I am afraid we are pressed for time, madam. But if you will allow me to call on you again…”
“You are most welcome here, Your Grace.”
As Alonzo bowed to the women again and took his leave, he could not shake the feeling they were scrutinizing his backside as he hurried away to find Graham. The ladies Bradbury were not women to be trifled with. Though they did not fit into the mold of the haute ton, they were extraordinary women who had adapted to the harsh realities of the world they lived in.
Lady Julia, well, she was a puzzle he intended to put together slowly, piece by beautiful piece.
*
“Is he gone?” Julia asked from behind the partly opened door leading into the Bradbury apartment.
Duke of Decadence (Lords of Hedonism Book 1) Page 5