She hesitated, then stopped and looked down at him. “Yes, my lord?”
“In my office, if you please.”
Her lips compressed; she smoothed her skirts and returned downstairs. She headed down the foyer, and a moment later his office door slammed.
“You keep her out of trouble,” the duke said, and motioned for his hat and coat. “I won’t go out of my way for her again.”
Lucien looked at him. “So you’ve resolved your differences?”
“What differences? I’m here to keep the damned gossips at bay until you marry her and get her out of London.”
“Ah.” Of his guests, only Robert remained, chatting quietly in the morning room with Rose. “I believe I need another moment or two of your time.”
“Make an appointment with my man. I’m meeting the prime minister at nine in the morning.”
Lucien stepped forward, blocking the duke’s path, while Wimbole shut the front door. “Just a moment,” he repeated calmly, and gestured toward his office.
“I have no time for such nonsense.”
“Make some, then,” Lucien returned, unmoving.
“Impertinent ruffian,” the duke blustered, but strode down the hallway.
Lucien pulled the door open for him, and followed him inside. Alexandra stood behind his desk, her clenched fists resting against the smooth mahogany surface. “What is it?” he asked her without preamble, closing the door behind him.
“I have to admit,” she said in a low, unsteady voice, “that the events of this evening took me completely by surprise.”
“Bah,” Monmouth snorted. “Don’t thank me, because you can never repay me. Just be grateful that I care about my family’s reputation, girl, because if I didn’t, I’d happily see you in Aus—”
“I wasn’t going to thank you,” Alexandra snapped. “How dare you presume that I would ever ask anything from a poor excuse for a gentle—”
“Alexandra,” Lucien broke in, “I asked your uncle to come tonight.”
She came around the desk toward him. “I thought…” she began, then broke off.
“You thought what?”
“I thought you’d changed! Rose seemed so happy, and I thought you’d changed!”
Lucien narrowed his eyes. “I have changed—I think. I certainly spend more blasted time worrying about it than I ever did before.”
“Then why is he here?” She jabbed her finger in Monmouth’s direction.
“Why, indeed, you ungrateful—”
“Enough!” Lucien roared. “Monmouth, go.”
“With pleasure.” The duke stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
“He came tonight because you were using him as an excuse,” Lucien continued, watching her stalk between him and the fireplace.
“An excuse for what, pray tell?”
“An excuse for demanding your damned independence from everything. From me. Now you can’t use him for that any longer.”
“I don’t need to use anything but you,” she retorted, a tear running down one cheek. “You’re the best reason not to marry you that I could possibly find.”
“Just a damned minute,” Lucien cut in, surprised by her venom.
