Page 8 of The Rake and Lady Julia
A delicious pang of desire filled Julia's belly, and she quickly realised that she must make her escape before she did something rash—and her brain was so addled by the marquess, that she was not certain if that something would be murder or kissing.
Though both were equally horrifying prospects.
"Good evening, my lord." Julia said, in equal measures firm and prim.
"Parting is such sweet sorrow," Montague quipped, "That I shall say good night 'till it be morrow."
"There will be no tomorrow," Julia hissed, as she peered out through the curtains to make certain that no one was watching. "And I rather think, my lord, that you're messing up your lines. You have taken the female lead now, it seems."
"I'm very versatile," Montague grinned, "It's one of my many attributes; versatile, single, wealthy, heir to a ducal seat—"
"Not to mention fit for Bedlam," Julia finished—though she could not help herself, and she smiled.
"I can go to my grave easy now, in the knowledge that I have made you smile."
"Then I wish you safe travels on your journey cross the Styx, my lord—be sure to pay the ferryman."
"I would rather a kiss upon my mouth from you for his dues, than a gold coin."
"I am afraid that all you will earn from me with that kind of talk is a fat lip," Julia snorted, affronted by his rakery, "Adieu, my lord."
Before he could speak again, Julia fled, her feet carrying her across the room on a heady mix of excitement and nerves.
Thankfully, the country-set was only now coming to an end, and no one had appeared to notice her absence. Even her mother, who worried and fretted when Julia was out of sight, was transfixed by the sight of the two wallflowers dancing with a pair of dukes.
"Oh, there you are, dear," Lady Cavendish said with a smile, "Look, even your two little friends have decided to try and find themselves husbands—though they're both punching a little above their weight tonight. Ah—love is in the air, don't you think?"
"It is," Julia agreed absently, as she wondered at the strange feeling of excitement which coursed through her veins.
She had said that she wanted to live and, judging by the pounding of her heart, Julia guessed that her wish had been answered.
Chapter Two
Robert William Montague, current holder of the title Marquess of Thornbrook and heir to the Ducal Seat of Staffordshire, was being ignored.
His two oldest friends—the Duke of Penrith and the Duke of Orsino—were both lost to the world. The two men sat at their customary table by the bow -window in White's staring blankly into space whilst they nursed their nightcaps, and ignored Robert's attempts at making conversation.
"I must say, Almack's turned out to be far more entertaining than I had imagined," Rob ventured, only to be met by distracted silence.
"And you have made progress on your mission to ensnare Miss Drew," he continued, with a nod to Penrith, "Though, she did not seem that taken with you, if truth be told."
Penrith stirred at the mention of Miss Drew, the young lady he was supposed to court so that his cousin might have a chance with her younger sister.
"Young ladies oft play at being disinterested in order to arouse a man's attention," Penrith bristled, his pride evidently stung by Robert's remark.
"Well, Miss Drew played the part very well," Rob offered with a wicked smile, which earned him a most ducal glare from his friend.
"Perhaps you have spent too long amongst the females of thedemimonde, Montague," Penrith sniffed, "And you have forgotten how things are done in more civilised circles."
"Ah," Rob was quick with a smile, "So in civilised circles it is commonplace for the lady to run away from the man pursuing her?"
"She hardly ran, Montague," Orsino interjected, having finally joined the conversation, "I would say it was more of a trot than a canter."
Orsino shot Rob an amused smile, and both men waited patiently for their friend to react to their ribbing.
Three, two, one, Rob counted in his head.
"Well, if this is where the night is headed," Penrith said, placing his empty glass down upon the table, "Then I think it's time for me to cry off. Some of us are dukes and have business to attend to in the morning."
