Returning to his phaeton, Lucien cursed at the sight of the massive picnic basket strapped to the back. He’d never in his life been on a picnic. His staff had been forced to run out and buy the things necessary to put one together, including the basket itself. Even with his foul mood, he wasn’t about to allow the fine feast Remington’s chef had put together go to waste. He’d visit his mother and take her out for the afternoon. She would enjoy the surprise.
It wasn’t long before Lucien was climbing the steps of his mother’s townhouse. Heading toward the pink parlor, he scowled when he heard his mother’s laughter inside. Damnation, she had guests. Perhaps she wouldn’t be available for a picnic either. The thought made his mood even more disagreeable. He opened the door and then stood frozen on the threshold.
“What the devil are you doing in my mother’s house?” he barked.
Three heads—his mother’s, the duke’s, and Julienne’s—swung toward him in surprise.
He was somewhat pacified by Julienne’s radiant smile. “I was invited, of course,” she replied.
His Grace stood. “Afternoon, son. Wasn’t expecting to see you until this evening at your club, but I’m pleased all the same.”
“I’m not,” grumbled Amanda. “Run along now, Lucien, and allow me to speak to Lady Julienne.”
Lucien crossed his arms and glowered. “If I leave, Julienne is coming with me. Today was my day with her, promised to me for a picnic.”
“You whine like a petulant child,” his mother scolded as she attempted to shoo him out of the room.
“You have no notion of the trouble that went into preparing that damn picnic,” he argued. “And now it’s sitting outside, on the back of my phaeton, getting cold.” He held out his hand. “Come along, Julienne.”
Amanda glared at her son. “She’s not going anywhere. She came to see me, and she’s been here only a few minutes.”
“She has no business being here. We had plans.”
Julienne rose from the settee with her customary grace, and Lucien’s eyes became riveted to her. The epitome of the ton’s esteemed social perfection, she was nevertheless completely at home in his mother’s parlor, and he adored her for that. Dressed in a scarlet riding habit, she was stunning, with her glorious hair piled atop her head and her lush lips curved in a placating smile. As she stepped closer, her scent enveloped him, and his entire body hardened, as it always did around her.
She reached out a hand and stroked his tense upper arm. “I’m sorry I ruined your plans for the day. Perhaps we can still go and take your parents with us.”
At the slight touch of her hand, he lost his control and gripped her elbows, pulling her closer. He bent over her, lowering his voice so he wouldn’t be overheard. “I wanted you all to myself. I looked forward to it.”
She laughed. “My maid is here. She would have come on the picnic, too.”
“I might have been able to tolerate her,” he muttered. “But my mother will hang on every word.”
“What could you possibly have to say that would shock your parents?”
His mouth dropped to her ear. “How about how ravishing you look in that riding habit? I want to ravish you right out of it. I’m sporting an impressive cockstand, Julienne, just from looking at you. I want to take you somewhere, lift up your skirts, and lick you until you scream. I want to put my fingers inside you and—”
“G-good h-heavens,” she sputtered, fanning her face with her hands. “Incorrigible rogue.”
Julienne stared at Lucien Remington and saw the wicked glint in his eyes. She narrowed her own.
Two could play his game.
Her mouth curved in a seductive smile, and she ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “And while your hands are under my skirts, my wicked Lucien, I would have my hands down your trousers stroking that magnificent cock. You would be so enamored with the feel of my hands, you would lie back and allow me to have my way with you. I could take you into my mouth and suck you. Hard, the way you love it. My—”
“Damnation!” Lucien backed away from her as if she had burned him, the crest of his cheekbones flushed with desire.
Julienne grinned and turned to face his parents. “Would you care to join us for a picnic, Madam Remington? Your Grace?”
Amanda smiled. “My goodness, the heat that comes off you two could start a blaze.”
She flushed. Lucien was right. She was becoming a wanton.
“Don’t be embarrassed, dear,” Amanda said with a grin. “I’m aware Lucien proposed to you. He wouldn’t have done so if you were indifferent to one another.”
“Marriage?” barked the duke. “Does no one tell me anything?”
“She refused him,” Amanda explained.
“I should think so,” Magnus grumbled. “Fontaine is an excellent catch.”
Julienne blinked. “Lucien is a wonderful catch as well. Any woman would be lucky to have him.”
“Then why won’t you?” the duke challenged.
“Yes, Julienne,” purred Lucien behind her. She spun to face him and found him leaning against the door jamb, with his arms crossed. “Why won’t you?”
“You know very well why!”
“I don’t,” Amanda said. “Tell me.”
Julienne lifted her chin. “He wants me for all the wrong reasons, and when he tires of me, he intends to dally as he pleases.”
“Hell and damnation, son.” His Grace roared with laughter. “Never tell a woman that before the vows are spoken.”
“Glass!” Amanda cried, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m ashamed of both of you.”
“She’d allow Fontaine to chase skirts,” Lucien said defensively, “but not me. It’s not fair.”
“That’s different,” returned Amanda and Julienne in unison.
“Indeed?” Lucien said with a quirk of his brow.
“Indeed?” joined the duke as he walked over to his son. “Explain yourselves.” The two almost identical men faced their women with identical arched brows.
Amanda rolled her eyes. “Men are so dense.” She pierced Magnus with a steely stare. “Would I allow you to dally, Glass?”
His face colored. “Hell, Amanda. You’d probably unman me.”
“And why is that?” she asked.
Julienne saw where the conversation was headed and rounded the settee. “This is entirely unnecessary. We were discussing a picnic and—”
“Hush, Julienne,” Lucien ordered. “I intend to hear this.”
“Because you love me, of course,” the Duke of Glasser said, with a proud tilt to his chin. “And you’re damned possessive.”
“There you have it!” Amanda gave a triumphant nod. “And you wouldn’t take another woman regardless, because you love me in return.”
Lucien stood immobile by the parlor doors. “Are you saying, Mother, that Julienne won’t marry me because she loves me?”
Amanda shook her head. “What I’m saying is, Lady Julienne won’t marry you because you don’t love her. Or if you do, you won’t admit it.”
“And you believe Fontaine loves her?” he choked out.
“Lucien, it’s not Fontaine’s feelings that matter.” His mother rolled her eyes. “You may be a genius with money, but when it comes to women, you’re positively dense.”
Julienne had quite enough of this conversation. “Thank you very much for your hospitality, Madam Remington, but I’m afraid I must depart now.”
“Like hell.” Lucien blocked the doorway. “You promised me a picnic, and we’re damn well having one.”
“I’m not dressed to go out,” Amanda complained.
“Then we’ll have it here.” He craned his neck into the hallway and yelled for the butler. When the servant appeared, Lucien sent the man to retrieve the basket. Then he looked at Julienne again.
“I’m not feeling well,” she said hoarsely.
Lucien approached her with a soft smile. “Lovesick?”
Her stricken gaze met his. “To hell with you, you conceite
d man.”
“I’m already there, sweet. I’ve been there since I met you.”
“If I’m such a source of misery for you, why do you seek me out?”
“You are not the source, my love. My own foolishness is.”
Her throat tight, Julienne whispered, “Cease calling me that. We both know it’s not true.”
With gentle fingers, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear, then cupped her cheek. He brushed away an errant tear with his thumb. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips gently to hers, paying no heed to his parents behind him.
“Lucien, your parents . . .” she whispered, her face flaming with embarrassment.
“Don’t mind us,” Amanda called out. “Just pretend we’re not here.”
Julienne’s mouth twitched. She rather liked Lucien’s parents. “What do you want from me, Lucien?”
“A chance,” he said softly. “Keep Fontaine at bay until the end of the Season.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Do you love me, Julienne?”
“Lucien . . .” she breathed, dismayed that he’d asked her so bluntly. “You ask for too much.”
“I ask for time to win you.” His velvety voice curled around her, low and seductive in its promise. “If marriage to me is something you’d never consider, then say so, and I won’t pursue you any further. But if the possibility exists that you would consent to be mine, I want you to give me that chance.”
She pulled back and searched his face. “You’re serious.”
“I am,” he agreed, with a tender smile. “Would you marry me if I could change?”
“I don’t know. I’m not certain we could be happy together. Not for the duration of our lives.”
“And you believe Fontaine can make you happy? How could he, when you are in love with me?”
Julienne shrugged as tears gathered in her eyes. “I didn’t choose to feel this way about you, Lucien. This situation would be so much easier if I didn’t care.”
“Don’t cry,” he said gruffly, tugging her closer. “I realize I’m asking for too much. You would have to relinquish the life you know and begin anew with me, a social pariah. But I’m obscenely wealthy and the handsomest man in all of England—”
“Good grief! You remember that?” She blushed.
“How could I forget?” Lucien rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb. “How about a lifetime in my bed? I can promise to love your body to distraction at every possible opportunity. I can give you the kind of happiness you never knew existed. I can buy you things you never thought to have. I can make your life so pleasant that perhaps the condemning opinion of others will hurt you less.”
And Julienne knew if Lucien Remington set his mind to making her happy, he would do everything possible to ensure that she was. “It certainly sounds appealing,” she agreed breathlessly, her heart warming at the picture he presented. A lifetime with him. It wouldn’t be easy, but perhaps it could be worth it. If he loved her.
“The picnic is ready,” Amanda said cheerfully.
They turned to find the furniture moved aside to create a large space in the center of the room. In the middle lay the picnic blanket and all of the food.
The next couple of hours were some of the most enjoyable Lucien could ever remember spending. His father and mother told bawdy stories from some of their infamous parties, and Julienne was obviously both scandalized and fascinated by the tales. The food was wonderful, as he’d known it would be, and the company delightful, surrounded as he was by the people who meant the most to him.
He was extremely disappointed when it came time for Julienne to bid farewell. Lucien escorted her to her mount and watched her until she rode out of sight, accompanied by her maid and two of his mother’s groomsmen.
When he reentered the parlor, he saw his parents, arms around each other, looking out the window. Amanda turned her head to look at him. “We really like her, Lucien.”
He smiled. “Everyone does.”
She walked over to her escritoire and returned with a letter. “Look at her acceptance of my invitation to tea. So gracious and sweet. The king could not have received a more respectful response.”
Lucien glanced down at the missive and nodded. “She has a way of making people feel worthy.”
“She adores you. She’s too innocent to hide it.”
His grin widened. “She’s looked at me in that fashion since the moment I laid eyes on her.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And I’ve been a complete idiot where she’s concerned from the very beginning. I’ve said and done things I deeply regret.”
“You’re in love, son,” commiserated Magnus. “It makes fools of all men.”
You’re in love.
“I’m not—” Lucien began, and then he fell silent, frowning.
His father arched a brow. His mother smiled.
Damn it, was he in love? A man would know if such a thing happened to him, wouldn’t he?
But . . . perhaps . . . Perhaps what he felt wasn’t lust at all. Though that had to be part of it, or maybe it was because of it. Who could tell? He certainly couldn’t—he’d never been in love before.
Still, love would explain his odd behavior—his strange and unaccountable anger, his jealousy, and his inability to be aroused by any other woman. Love could be the reason why he thought of her all the time, why he missed her unbearably, why he dreamed of her every night.
He loved Lady Julienne La Coeur.
Lucien’s hand gripped the back of a nearby chair for support.
“Goodness, Glass,” his mother scolded as she took in his condition. “You have no tact. You don’t just thrust a revelation like that on someone. Can’t you see Lucien’s in shock?”
“How in hell can a man not know when he’s in love?” Magnus complained.
Amanda shook her head.
Lucien laughed, an odd, slightly wondering chuckle. “I do love her,” he breathed. “All these weeks of torture, and we could have been together.”
“Why don’t you simply tell her how you feel?” Amanda asked.
“I will.” He firmed his resolve. “And I’ll prove it to her.”
“You don’t have a lot of time,” Magnus pointed out. “Fontaine is champing at the bit.”
Lucien grit his teeth. “I know. But Julienne promised me she would keep him waiting until the end of the Season.”
“That’s only a few weeks away,” his mother reminded. “You mustn’t lose her, Lucien. You’ll regret it forever.”
“Don’t worry, Mother.” He hadn’t achieved his success through good fortune. He’d worked hard for it, and he would work hard for Julienne. “I won’t.”
Chapter Eleven
“You must be bored stiff.”
Julienne looked up from her book and hid a smile. Curled up in a settee in Lucien’s office, she watched him surreptitiously while he worked. “What gave you that impression?” she asked.
He was in the middle of purchasing a mill, which would be the cornerstone of several new ventures, and the acquisition was taking up all of his time. She hadn’t seen him in two days and finally decided to simply show up unannounced at Remington’s. By bringing her abigail with her, she’d deflected any suspicion on Aunt Eugenia and Hugh’s parts, and she’d snuck in through the kitchens to avoid being seen. Lucien came for her immediately, dispatching her maid for a tour of the establishment before taking Julienne to his office. She had insisted he work, apologizing profusely for disturbing him, despite his assurances that her interruption was welcome.
“You’re too quiet,” he said. “And I’m certain you didn’t come here to watch me work.”
Lucien had removed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Something about his casualness and absorption in his task made her hot. The sight of his bare forearms and strong hands made her ache. The way he muttered over contracts filled her with contentment. After years of watching Hugh struggle with money, she admired Lucien’s easy handling of it. A “domesticated pirate” is what
Fontaine had called him. Julienne agreed and found it thrilling.
“I quite enjoy watching you work,” she murmured.
“Is that so?” Lucien grinned and set aside his quill. “I quite enjoy having you here. I wasn’t certain I could accomplish much with you so close at hand, but actually I find your presence quite stimulating.”
“That’s because you’re a scoundrel.”
Leaning back in his chair, he asked, “How are things progressing with Fontaine?”
Julienne shrugged. “Yesterday he took me to the Royal Academy of Art. He wishes to ask Montrose permission to pay his addresses and asked if I was open to his interest.”
Lucien stiffened. Not yet. “What did you say, my love?”
She picked restlessly at her skirt. “I asked him if he loved me.”
Lucien swallowed hard. “And how did he reply?”
“He believes he can grow to love me, given the time.”
“Did you tell him you would accept his suit?”
Julienne met his gaze with a reproving frown. “You know I would not be here with you if I had. I asked him to wait until the end of the Season, as you and I discussed.”
“He must have been curious as to your reasons.”
“Of course. I told him there was the possibility that someone I cared for could grow to love me as well, and I wanted to allow the other man sufficient opportunity to do so.”
“Bloody hell,” Lucien muttered, with a rueful laugh. “I’ve always loved your honesty, but for Christ’s sake, did you have to be so blunt with him? No man wants to hear he’s running in second place.” He grinned suddenly. “But finding out he’s first is very pleasant.”
“I told him he shouldn’t settle for anything less than love either. He admired my honesty and agreed to respect my wishes.” She bit her bottom lip. “He did say he would put up a fight.”
Lucien was tempted to reveal his feelings, but feared Julienne would think he was only trying to outmaneuver Fontaine. So instead he rose from his desk and locked the door. He moved to sit beside her and took her hands in his. “Sweetheart, any man would fight for you. I intend to fight for you.”