Julienne swayed on her feet. " One hundred thousand?" she breathed as the blood drained from her face. "To Lucien Remington?"
He reached out to steady her. "Don't faint, Jules," he pleaded. "I'm sorry about all Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
of this, but that bastard Remington kept my accounts open. White's cut me off at twenty thousand, but—"
"No more!" she snapped, pushing him away. "Don't blame Lucien Remington for your weakness. I will not have you disparaging him in any way. Do you understand? In any way. He has made something of himself, built an empire. You have done this to us. You alone are responsible."
Hugh recoiled from her sharp tone, one she'd never used with him before. "He could ruin us!"
"And who gave him that power?" she countered.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with an upraised hand. "I'm exhausted, and I don't wish to discuss your problems anymore this evening.
Fetch your cloak. We're leaving."
As the door to the parlor closed, the two intertwined figures on the settee separated, and one sat up.
"Fascinating," Amanda murmured, as she straightened her bodice.
Magnus, Duke of Glasser, brushed aside her dark hair to nuzzle her neck. "Not as fascinating as what I have right here," he murmured wickedly.
"Glass, for heaven's sake. Don't you realize we've just met our future daughter-in-law?" She brushed his roving hands away.
The duke heaved a long-suffering sigh and sat up beside her. "We didn't meet anyone. We eavesdropped. And it sounded like the chit has her claws in Fontaine. Why would she want Charles?"
" Charles?" She rolled her eyes. "For heaven's sake, Glass, pay attention. I'm talking about Lucien."
"Lucien?" he queried, obviously confused. "She's an earl's daughter. And from Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
the sound of it, she's well on her way to being a marchioness. What would she want with Lucien?"
"What woman wouldn't want Lucien? He's the spitting image of you, handsome devil that you are." She smiled seductively. "And didn't you hear Lady Julienne defend him? There's something afoot there. She likes him."
"Lots of women like Lucien," Magnus pointed out with a good dollop of fatherly pride. "Doesn't mean he wants to marry them. Who knows if he's even met the gel before?"
Amanda attempted to restore some order to her hair. "Trust me, darling. A woman knows these things. Lady Julienne took a personal offense to Montrose's comments. I can assure you, they've met. You'll see I'm right."
She squealed as she was tackled back onto the settee.
"I've got something to show you," the duke growled. "Right here."
"You look awful."
Lucien scowled as he paced the empty hazard room of Remington's. "To hell with you, too, Marchant."
His man-of-affairs laughed. "It's unusually early for you to be here."
" You're here," Lucien retorted.
"I'm always here at this time." Marchant sighed at Lucien's skeptical glance.
"You truly have no idea what you pay me for, do you?"
Lucien paused in his pacing and glared. "I'm certain I don't pay you to harass and insult me, so be on your way."
"I have something to discuss with you, Lucien."
"Not now. I'm not in the mood."
"It is precisely your present mood that necessitates my speaking with you."
"Bloody hell and damnation!" Lucien leaned against a hazard table and crossed his arms, his head throbbing viciously. "Out with it then. And make haste."
"I gave you some bad advice the other day."
Lucien arched a brow. "Not something you want to tell me, Harold. One of the things I pay you for is your advice. If it's not worth hearing, I may sack you."
"The employee in me is quaking in his boots," Marchant said wryly. "But as your friend, I must continue regardless."
Lucien closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. God help him.
"I don't think you should allow Lady Julienne to marry any of the men on that list I compiled."
Lucien's eyes flew open. "Why? What's wrong with them?"
"'Tis not what's wrong with them, but what's wrong with you." Marchant's eyes were kind behind his spectacles. "You're lovesick."
"I am not!"
"You are. You're barely tolerable. The employees are avoiding you, the customers are steering clear of your company, you've been drinking yourself into a stupor every night, and instead of going home, you've been staying in your rooms upstairs."
"I own the damn place!" Lucien growled. "I can spend the night here if I wish."
"You are staying in the Sapphire Room because of her," Marchant argued.
Lucien lowered his head. There was no point in denying it. His man-of-affairs was too bright. "You told me to stay away from her, Harold."
"I thought she was merely a temporary amusement. Now it's obvious to me, and to everyone else, that she means far more to you than that."
"My feelings don't signify. I'm not worthy of her."
Marchant sighed. "Will you be able to live with yourself knowing she is married to someone else? A man you see regularly here within the walls of your own establishment? Will you be able to hold your tongue, and your fists, when he makes use of the courtesans while the woman you covet waits at home for him?
How will you feel when Lord Fontaine comes in to celebrate the birth of their children?"
" That's enough!" Lucien shouted, his chest tight with fury and misery. To think of Julienne belonging to another man was too much to bear. If he couldn't have her, he didn't want anyone else to have her either. But that wasn't the way it would be. And somehow, he would have to find the strength to live with that.
"There are some mistakes we can live with, and others we can't. Only you can determine which kind of mistake this is." Marchant turned to walk away.
"Harold."
The man-of-affairs paused.
"Thank you."
"Lucien, darling. Punctual, as always."
Lucien smiled affectionately at his mother as he was shown into her parlor.
Shades of pink and mauve embellished with gilt and satin made the room an entirely feminine retreat. Leaning over her, he kissed both of her cheeks. "You look stunning, Mother."
She waited until he took the seat opposite her before beginning tea. "You look like hell," she said bluntly. "Have you lost weight?" She handed Lucien a cup and saucer. "Pining for Lady Julienne La Coeur?"
Startled, Lucien fumbled with his cup, cursing as he spilt the hot liquid. "Beg Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
your pardon?" Setting the saucer down, he stuck his burnt fingers in his mouth.
"I said you look like hell."
"I heard that part," he muttered, wiping his hand on a linen napkin. "It was the rest of it I missed."
"No, you didn't. I met your love last night."
Lucien blinked, his head spinning. "What did you say?"
Amanda dropped two lumps of sugar into her tea. "She's lovely and feisty."
"Julienne was here?" He shot to his feet. " Last night?"
"Sit down, Lucien. I shall get a neck cramp looking up at you."
Frowning, he sat.
His Julienne? Here? In the midst of London's demimonde? He flushed.
"It bothers you that she was here?" his mother asked.
"Why was she here?"
Amanda smiled. "She was dragging her scapegrace brother home."
Lucien stood again. "Montrose is back?" He swallowed hard. This was dreadful.
Now Fontaine could pay his addresses.
"Lucien, please! Sit down."
Again he dropped dutifully into the seat. "What happened?" he asked hoarsely, fighting off a mild panic.
"She was quite firm with him, scolding him and ordering him to start accepting his responsibilities."
Lucien couldn't hold back a smile. Fierce, passionate, no-nonsense Julienne.
Amanda smiled over the rim of her cup. "And when Montrose made a nasty comment about you, she defended you. I wish you could have heard her. She Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
was magnificent."
The nausea he'd been fighting all morning suddenly worsened.
Last night. After the things he'd done and said to her, Julienne had defended him anyway.
His head dropped into his hands. Damnation. He would have felt better if she'd maligned him right along with her brother.
This morning he'd been certain there was no more wretched person on earth than himself. He'd believed it wasn't possible to feel any worse.
But he did. Much worse.
How would he ever make amends to her? Fueled by brandy, jealousy had eaten him alive. Julienne had spoken with Fontaine at length. The sight of them together had crushed him further. They presented a dashing couple—two perfect, blond, beautiful aristocrats. The handsome marquess had staked an obvious claim to Julienne, and Lucien had wanted nothing more than to rip them apart.
He'd determined to make her as jealous as he was, to force her to share in his misery. But when he'd succeeded, when she'd fled the room in obvious distress, he'd followed, unable to do otherwise. The smell of her, the feel of her skin, the taste of her mouth—he'd been consumed by a singular madness. To give her up, to lose her, was nigh unbearable, and he'd wanted her to say she felt the same.