“That remains to be seen. But when you figure it out, do let me know.”
Silenced by his friend’s less-than-clear observation, Alonzo moved aside as he watched Ganes half limp out of the library, a much different figure than the one he had joined an hour before. Perhaps, and it was just a baseless guess, the threat of one of them leaving their circle of friends had deeper implications than the duke had imagined. After all, women were their targets—to seduce and bed, to savor gently and thoroughly, but always to walk away from, never to keep.
And though he did not know the extent of his fascination with Lady Julia yet, he found her worth the effort of treating her honorably. After all, she was the daughter of a duke. His equal. Almost. For the lady was lacking in the art of seduction. Something Alonzo would remedy immediately.
Chapter Thirteen
“What would itbe like to be the lady of such a household?” Willa asked as she admired the general splendor of the drawing room.
“The duke remains unwed,” Julia reminded her friend.
That made Willa frown. “Though I do not begrudge a man his past, marrying anyone who had such a full life before I was even born would be too much of a challenge for me to undertake.”
The duke had been married for sixteen years before the duchess died, leaving behind two children, a son and daughter. “Widowers are often desirous of a young bride.”
Willa shook her head. “My children will be heirs to their father’s title and fortune, not the spare set of babes often forgotten once their sire dies.”
A sad reality of theton…half-siblings left meager inheritances… their mothers often forced to rely on wealthy relations to feed themselves. “I perfectly understand,” Julia said quietly, gazing about, from the matching, crystal chandeliers trimmed in gold and silver leaf, to the flawless marble floors, and the dark wood furniture that graced the open space. Even the chairs, all covered in heavy, gold velvet, were edged with gold. “But sometimes, as you know, dearest, circumstances force the hand of an otherwise independent woman to do what she must to provide for her family a secure future. One in which a bookshop, as beloved as it is, could quietly be sold and that money invested in a new wardrobe to attract a powerful husband.”
Willa stopped and turned, her eyes filled with affection. “What a wonderful friend for having the courage to say such a thing—knowing those funds I would get were provided through her hard-saved pin money. You went without for so long, Julia. Just to see Mother and I settled after everyone else seemed to turn their backs on us.”
“Nonsense.” Julia reached for her friend’s hand and gave her fingers a squeeze. “We are both fish out of water in this environment, I believe. Better to return to our chambers and let the players of such games get on with whatever they do.”
“Such a pretty place to play a game, isn’t it?”
“I will not deny the duke’s good taste,” she said. “However, I am beginning to regret accepting this invitation.”
“But why?” a familiar voice sounded from behind them—a thrilling, masculine voice from an imperious duke.
Willa smiled at him first, before Julia turned. She cringed at the idea of seeing him in his finery—such a gallant figure he made dressed in the traditional black and gray. But turn about she did, and her eyes were immediately drawn to his face. “Your Grace.” She curtseyed.
“Lady Julia. Lady Willa.” He bowed with elegance, his smile reserved for Julia. She could feel it cutting into her even when his gaze strayed down to the floor momentarily. “What could possibly make you regret being here?”
“Well…” Willa started, willing to answer for her.
“Though I am accustomed to such comforts, the Duke of Stanhope’s home reminds me more of a palace.”
“Ah.” He grinned. “The duke would take that as high praise, Lady Julia. Especially coming from you. Do you prefer the more humble surroundings of a…”
“Bookshop,” Julia finished for him. The rudeness of her interruption did not escape Julia, but she blamed Alonzo for her mental and physical reactions to him. He tied her in knots.
“Yes. A bookshop.”
He could not deny nor forget where they had met originally. Even if she did not own the place, she frequented the shop, and that fact could, if anyone of consequence encountered her there, hurt her respectability. Not that she gave a damn, but her father did.
“A special bookshop,” Willa added lightheartedly. “One that caters to the finer tastes in literature.”
Once again, the duke appeared to take their small lies, or exaggerations, in stride. He had purchased one of those books and found it improper for a woman of high birth to read.
“With a reserved space for women who would otherwise be denied access to certain tomes.”
Did he remember everything Julia had told him? If so, she’d be all the worse for it, for the man made her want to reveal all of her secrets—good and bad.
“Perhaps you will visit the shop again?” Willa asked.
“If I ever require a new book, count on me seeking you out first, Lady Willa.”
Julia fought to recover her breath, for no matter how hard she scrutinized the duke, he always seemed to say the right thing, though his eyes constantly challenged her, teased her. Perhaps even judged her. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of such dark thoughts. This party was meant to lighten her spirits, not burden her with unneeded doubts in herself and the people around her. She was a duke’s daughter. Born and raised for such events. She had butterfly feet as all the woman here did, capable of fluttering about and flinging praise and niceties at the most condemnable characters while smiling and stabbing them in the back at the same time. But she abhorred doing so.
