Duke of Decadence (Lords of Hedonism Book 1)

by Violetta Rand

  “Yes,” Willa said. “It is safe to come out now.”

  What had the duke been thinking to show up at the bookshop? “Thank God.”

  “Julia,” Lady Bradbury said, tucking her fingers under her chin and forcing her to meet her gaze. “I have known you since you were but a child. Your dear mother raised you to be fair to everyone. Why do you dislike the duke?”

  Lady Bradbury had always been honest with Julia, and she should do the same. But how could she explain what she felt every time she set eyes on that man? Her insides were in knots, she loathed his pomposity, but enjoyed looking at him—watching him interact with people, and his singing voice—how it made her weak-kneed and dewy-eyed. All the physical responses to men she had long denied herself because she had plans for her future, and none of them involved having a husband that would rule over her.

  Not that she thought of husbands when she considered the duke. He was the furthest thing from a husband she could imagine. Why, he’d spend more time in front of the looking glass than she would. And likely own more fripperies to adorn himself with for the stage.

  “I dislike everything about him,” she finally said.

  The dowager gave her a sympathetic look. “Pride comes in many forms, Julia. And if that is what you dislike about him…”

  “He is a braggart.”

  “Are not all men?”

  “Selfish, too.”

  “You could be describing my own husband,” the countess said.

  “He is a shameless scapegrace.”

  “Julia!” Willa sounded alarmed.

  “Well…” She would not hide her opinion. “Have you read about him before? That book… it not only told about his career as an opera singer, it delved into his personal life, his strange ablutions before each performance, even the women he has bedded.”

  “Did I not warn you about perusing that book?” Willa asked.

  “You did. But how could I not?”

  “You are obsessed with the man,” Lady Bradbury said.

  “Maybe a little,” she admitted, remembering how close he had gotten to her in the garden and what he had said about his male anatomy, how she affected him. That part she would never share with anyone, not even her best friend.

  The duke definitely had sunk his teeth into her mind and body. His words had sent her running, and set her body to trembling with emotion. She had wanted him to kiss her—made her want to kiss him. No man had been permitted to touch her before, much less ogle her and blame her for his uncontrollable desire.

  “Your father is adamant about you finding a husband,” Lady Bradbury reminded her. “Enough to send me a letter and ask that I provide guidance. Let us go back to the apartment, Julia, where we can talk privately.”

  Julia followed her inside and sat on one of the wingback chairs. A deep sense of belonging always overcame her whenever she spent time here. She loved Willa and her mother as her own and sometimes wished with all her heart that she had been born into their family, for there was a warmth she had never experienced with her parents. “I am sorry for acting like a spoiled child,” she said. “But you must understand…”

  “That the Duke of Pridegate desires you, and you might feel the same?” Lady Bradbury reached across from her chair and gave Julia’s right hand a squeeze. “I am not blind.”

  “No. If anyone could understand, you would. I know you and the earl shared a rare passion.”

  “We did, my dear. And I am not too old to marry again, as you know. Several gentlemen of consequence have sought me out, but nothing could compare to my love for Gerald. So why would I take another husband only to be disappointed every day for the rest of my life?”

  “Why take a husband at all?”

  “That is a silly question, and you know it. You are the only child of a duke. Your offspring will inherit a large estate and titles not entailed through the male line. And if you are fortunate to have a son within five years, he will be the heir to the dukedom. Imagine how generous your forebearers were to provide such an arrangement. Most hereditary estates and titles are not so kind. The closest male relative would inherit your father’s title and wealth.”

  She was fully aware of her family’s situation. And her father had always been kind to her, letting her live the life she wanted. His guilt over her mother’s death ran as deep as her regret for being born female. If she had been born male, her father would be much happier and secure as he grew older.

  “I have dreams.”

  “We all do, my dear. But duty is something every woman must accept once she reaches a certain age. And you are no longer a child, but nearly twenty. How many daughters are wed at fifteen or sixteen? Your father is an excellent man for allowing you the time to mourn the loss of your mother and to mature into the wonderful person you have become.”

  Within the span of a breath, Julia thrust herself into her arms, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I-I cannot accept just anyone for a husband,” she sobbed. “And I cringe to think myself married to a dandy like Alonzo Farrington.”

  The countess nearly choked on her laughter. “Dearest Julia, the Duke of Pridegate is no dandy.”

  Julia pulled back far enough to look her in the eyes. “Will you help me, Lady Bradbury?”

  “Help you what?”

  “Find a suitable husband who will allow me to continue with my charitable causes and political meetings.”

  “A man of principles would not wish his wife to be involved in politics, but I think we can find a man who approves of your various charitable projects. Give me some time to compile a list of potential suitors, then we shall sit down together and weed them out one by one.”

  Julia nodded in appreciation and gave her another squeeze born from deep affection. “I am the luckiest girl in all of London to have you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A night at home alone was a rarity for Alonzo. He lounged on his zebrawood sofa in front of the hearth, one of his long legs dangling casually off the side of the furniture, a wine glass in hand, and the half-full bottle of French perfection on the floor beside him. Usually fanatical about his appearance, he had stripped off nearly all of his gentlemanly layers, left wearing his buff-colored pantaloons and a severely starched shirt which hung wide open, revealing his muscled chest.

  His visit with Lady Julia had been a miserable failure. In fact, Lady Willa seemed a better match for him than the elusive daughter of a duke. He drank greedily, the sweet wine slowly numbing him to the discomfort of rejection. What had he done to deserve her spite? To earn her disrespect? To be treated as a subordinate? He groaned, his hunger for her overtaking him again.

  He found that he did not care very much for the how or why of anything concerning the lady. That he had found someone who stirred his feelings on many levels seemed something to be grateful for. Though there were plenty of things to be cautious about. Men were intrigued by her aloofness and porcelain beauty—refinement that would crack if he went about seducing her the wrong way.

  For the love of Christ, just finding the right opportunity to have a civil conversation with her had proven impossible. So, taking advantage of his connections, he designed the perfect plan to get her alone, or at least in a social setting that allowed him a chance to befriend her. In fact, the invitation to the Duke of Stanhope’s house party should be arriving at her father’s townhouse tomorrow morning. Sent by special messenger.

  And the invitation included Lady Bradbury, Lady Willa, and Lady Julia—her best friend and the perfect chaperone. Everything must appear aboveboard if Alonzo was to get his one taste of her. Yes, his pride had suffered a couple of hard blows from the proud lady. No woman had ever resisted him so hard. Perhaps he was losing his mind and skills of seduction. Or maybe he had spent too much time with French and Italian women, who tended to wear their animal-passions openly like badges of honor.

  Refilling his glass, he smiled. “What will you taste like, Lady Julia? I know what you smell like already.” The hint of lavender he’d enc
ountered in the garden that emanated from her hair had intoxicated him, drawn him in. Yes, her taste would be bittersweet, reluctant and hungry, for the moment their tongues tangled, he’d bet half his fortune that something primitive would awaken inside her.

  A woman such as herself needed to be caressed and kissed every day for the rest of her life. Doted on like a queen, but ridden hard like a romp.

  A soft knock sounded on the door, and Alonzo rolled off the sofa, climbing to his feet. “Come,” he said, surprised his butler would disturb him after he had asked to be left alone for the evening.

  “Excuse me, Your Grace,” his servant bowed. “The Earl of Ganes is here.”

  At well past ten, Alonzo wondered why his friend would show up so late and unannounced. Not that he’d turn him out, his door was always open for a friend in need.

  “Show him in.”

  The butler left quickly, and Alonzo worked on collecting himself, straightening his shirt and hair.

  “Alonzo.” Graham swept into the study, unsteady on his feet.

  “Graham. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” He assessed his childhood friend swiftly, noting the smell of spirits on him. “What gaming hell have you been to tonight?”

  “Does it matter? I never go for gambling. Hazard is a boring game. I’m a sensualist, old boy, and prefer the company of a Bird of Paradise found among the tables.” He dropped himself into the closest chair.

  “Brandy?” Alonzo offered.

  “No. I’ll have whatever is in that exquisite bottle on the floor.”

  Farrington rolled his eyes and grabbed a second wine glass from the nearby cabinet and poured his friend a generous portion of the outlawed, French wine. “What shall we toast?”

  “Perhaps nothing. Or maybe the fact that you managed to get Lady Julia and her lovely companion, Lady Willa, invited to the duke’s house party. How does one go about that, Alonzo? The guest list has been set for six months with no room in the house to spare.”

  “I have my ways.” Alonzo returned to his seat on the sofa. “Your cousin, the duke, is a reasonable man.”

  “You made a donation to his gallery.”

  “I am a fellow patron of the arts.”

  Graham snickered and swallowed down his wine. “You are a sly bastard, is what you are. A thousand pounds to get a woman where you want her.”

  “Funds well spent, I’d say.”

  “The red-haired vixen, you were correct in assuming I’d take an interest in her.”

  “Lady Willa?”

  “The very one.” Graham wandered over to the sofa and helped himself to more wine.

  “I am rather fond of Willa and her mother. I would take it as an affront if you toyed with her.”

  “How long have you been in her acquaintance?”

  “Ten days.”

  That earned Alonzo another snort. “Very well, you have my word. I will not ruin her, though I’d like to.”

  Alonzo nodded in approval. “Wanting and doing are very different, my friend.” There were many things he fantasized about doing to Lady Julia—sinful acts that would force her to the edge of passion and make her beg him for more. “Lady Julia is in for the biggest surprise of her life.”

  *

  Their carriage pulled up to Marsh House by midafternoon. The Duke of Stanhope’s estate, just south of London, was a sprawling property with an ancient castle, manicured lawns, a fully stocked lake for trout fishing, and a forest fit for the Regent to hunt in. The cobblestone, circular drive was filled with servants welcoming newly arrived guests.

  “I still cannot believe we were invited to the duke’s party,” Lady Willa said.

  “Attending the countess’s musicale has propelled you both back into fashionable Society,” Lady Bradbury said with gratitude.

  “I have no use…”

  “Julia,” Lady Bradbury scolded gently.

  “I will keep an open mind and endeavor to act as the lady my father and mother raised me to be. Though mindless gossip will be hard to stomach.”

  “We will be inspiration for that gossip,” Willa blurted.

  “Daughter!” her mother said. “The same expectations I have of Lady Julia, are now upon you, too. For it was your father’s dying wish that I make the perfect match for you. And though we live a humble life compared to what we were once accustomed, your dear father had the foresight to set aside a generous dowry for you.”

  That information caused Willa to fall silent. Julia scooped her hand up, giving her a reassuring smile. Why her mother would choose to share this blessed news now, she did not know. Perhaps Lady Bradbury hoped her daughter would meet someone who could make her happy, for in the end, that is all one could ask for. Even Julia, who abhorred the idea of wedlock, would be accepting of a man she could grow to love if he made her laugh. For once youth faded, what did a man and woman have left to share?

  The footman lowered the steps of the carriage and opened the door, offering his hand to Julia first. She alighted, taking in the general splendor of the duke’s home. Her father’s country estate, located in Kent, offered many of the same luxurious surroundings, but this old castle with its two towers and gray-stone exterior captured her attention in a way only books seemed to do.

  Her father’s carriage and pair of Turkmen horses would return to London once their baggage was unloaded. Two ladies’ maids had also traveled with them. After they were greeted by the duke’s sister and her two daughters, Lady Julia was shown to her chamber. Willa and her mother would stay in a room down the hallway.

  Her chamber had a small balcony overlooking a private garden and was charmingly decorated with a mahogany, four-poster bed, writing desk, wardrobe, and a sitting area complete with a hearth and comfortable chairs. Hamlin would stay in a sleeping compartment located off the sitting area.

  The heat of the day had made her tired, so she gladly settled down for a short nap, not expected downstairs for dinner until seven o’clock. The highlight of the ten days she would spend here was the masked ball on Friday. She had had little time to choose an appropriate costume, but her ever-reliable modiste always held in reserve a selection of exquisite gowns for her best clients. And for the first time in quite a while, Julia had relied on her position as a duke’s daughter to get what she needed for herself and Willa.

  There was no shame in it, now that she thought about it. If she didn’t obey her father’s command and find a suitable husband, and waited for him to choose one for her, she would end up in a loveless union expected to breed like a thoroughbred, nothing more.

  She waited patiently as Hamlin brushed out her long hair, bringing it to a smooth shine. One of Julia’s best features was her hair.

  “Were you able to gain access to a guest list?” she asked Hamlin.

  “I am working on it, Lady Julia.”

  If anyone could get it, her maid would. Hamlin had a way with words, which included the ability to manipulate men into doing her bidding. She had always been a valuable asset, and Julia would be lost without her.

  “There.” Hamlin stood back and admired her in the mirror. “Though I hear the gathering tonight is an informal affair, you will be the prettiest woman in attendance.”

  Julia knew men admired her, yet she ignored it mostly. But starting this evening, she’d have to rely on her physical attributes to attract the right man, not her intelligence. Otherwise, she’d be at the mercy of her father and whoever he chose for her.

  “Please,” she said. “Get that guest list so I can find out what eligible men will be joining us.” If she could get the information, perhaps she could find the perfect match for Willa, too.

  Hamlin tucked her into bed and quietly left the room.

  Chapter Twelve

  For as long as Alonzo could remember, he had been a man of action, one who enjoyed the privileges his rank and wealth afforded him. He did so without regret most of the time, which allowed him to enjoy the delectable women he had entertained over the years. Yet somehow after only knowi
ng Lady Julia for a short time, she had forced him to take a critical look at himself. He sat in his host’s library with a cigar and a finger of brandy, in company with the Earl of Ganes.

  “Has your conquest arrived?” his friend asked, like any rake would.

  The duke blew out a perfectly formed smoke ring and nodded. “Yes, she arrived earlier this afternoon with Lady Willa and the dowager countess.”

  “Is that why you have kept to the stables and now the library?”

  He smiled confidently and refused to be annoyed by his friend. “I will let the lady know of my presence soon enough.”

  “It isn’t as if you have a choice, old chap. We’re all guests of the duke’s and are housed under the same roof.”

  Alonzo leaned forward in his seat. “Why are you pushing the issue, Ganes? Perhaps you feel if you got me out of the way, it would help your popularity grow in London.” He arched his brow in inquiry. “Though I doubt you’d admit it.”

  Ganes took a swig of his brandy and grinned arrogantly. “There is plenty of room at the top of the ton for both of us.”

  Alonzo gazed about the comfortable library, noticing and admiring the ancient, mullioned windows. Though he owned an opulent country estate, this place had never failed to inspire him. Perhaps the venerable facade, untouched by the latest architectural fads, left him feeling as if he were truly sitting inside a knight’s keep. His host, the duke, had chosen wisely to leave this magnificent home in its original state. “This is a charming estate,” he observed.

  “Yes. I believe the duke is quite proud of it. Why? Are you looking to make an offer on it? I am sure the duke would never consider selling it.”

  Graham never knew when to be quiet. In fact, he always seemed to be competing for the favor of the people who hosted their performances and begged them to their parties.

  “If I were interested in pursuing anything concerning this place, you would be the last one to know about it,” Alonzo said quite smugly. “You, as I am quite sure you are aware, have been accused time and again of being a major contributor to the scandal sheets.”