With another glare the younger Retting stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
Monmouth seated himself on the couch opposite Lucien. “I might as well have let him stay. You’re not getting anything from me.”
“I will.”
“Damned sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Frequently.” Lucien sat back, assessing his opponent, and clicked open his watch. Alexandra was insatiably curious, and he was willing to wager that it was a family trait. He glanced down at the time. Half past three. He needed to get back soon, to see how the conversation between Alexandra and Rose had gone.
“What is it you think you’ll get from me, then?”
Lucien snapped the watch shut again. “Since the unfortunate Welkins incident, your niece has felt somewhat unsure about her place in society.”
“And so she should, the little strumpet. It took me weeks to quiet that down.”
“I thought you hadn’t been completely uninvolved. Sloppy, though. You left a mess.”
The duke narrowed his eyes. “Not wheremyfamily is concerned.Youstirred that mess up again, by having her here in London.”
“The point being, a mess exists.”
“The point being, all I do is snap my fingers and she’s no longer connected to my family. Mess cleaned up. Permanently.”
Alexandra claimed to have seen Monmouth in Lucien’s own demeanor, in the way he treated his own family. Abruptly, he didn’t like that very much. “Your mess, yes. Alexandra’s, no.”
She would kill him if she knew what he was about to tell her uncle. His only hope was that the end result would outweigh her fury over his methods. She’d left him little choice, anyway. She’d made Monmouth a barrier between them; he had to remove it.
“And this concerns me because…?”
“Because Alexandra fears that without your nominal support, Lady Welkins might attempt to have her arrested, despite her innocence in the entire incident.”
The duke harrumphed, while Lucien fought his impatience and let Monmouth take a moment to absorb the information. He knew what his own response would be, but then he was in love with the victim in question. If the dilemma had concerned Rose, the answer would have been stickier—though less so now than a few weeks ago.
“It’s because she’s in London,” Monmouth finally grumbled. “She’s got everyone’s damned attention, especially because she’s living under your roof.” The old man leaned forward. “Or should I say, under your bed sheets?”
“You shouldn’t be saying anything to make the situation more difficult for her than it is already.”
“Ha! You’re a fine one to talk about propriety. I was there the night King George found your father and Lady Heffington humping in the throne room—a week after he married your mother.”
“On the throne itself,” Lucien corrected coolly, flicking a speck of dust from his sleeve. “Or so I’ve been told.”
The duke pushed to his feet and walked to the decanters of liquor on the side table. “I knew my sister’s stupidity would send me to the poorhouse. Marrying a damned painter. Good God.” He poured himself a brandy, not bothering to offer one to Lucien. “I can only imagine the stink if they dragged the chit off in chains, whether she deserved it or not. You tell her I’ll give her a thousand pounds to go up-country. She has friends at that school where they took her in before. She’ll get nothing more from me.”
Lucien realized he’d broken the chain on his watch fob, and he tucked the blasted thing into his pocket. “I could give her a thousand quid to escape,” he said sharply. “Or ten times that.”
“I told you, she’ll get nothing more fr—”
“Make an offer that doesn’t involve her having to leave London,” Lucien interrupted, standing.
“But I don’t want her in London. I thought I made that clear.”
Striding over to grab the duke’s brandy from his surprised fingers, Lucien flung it against the wall. The fine glass shattered, showering the Persian carpet with flecks of refracted sunlight. “Let me make something clear, you pompous ass,” he growled. “You are the only family Alexandra Gallant has. Unfortunate as that makes her, you will welcome her back into your arms, and you will make it very apparent that she is under your protection.”
The door opened. “Father, I heard something break. Are you—”
“Out!” Monmouth roared. When the door slammed, he jabbed a finger at Lucien’s chest. “How dare you threaten me!”
Lucien stood his ground. “I’m not threatening anything. I’m insulting you, the way you’ve insulted Alexandra.”
