The Abduction of Julia by Karen Hawkins

had been the duke’s unexpected reaction. Despite impassioned pleas from his many female relatives, Lucien never again appeared in any color other than stark, unrelenting black.
    Alec caught the vexed glint in his friend’s hard green gaze. “Lady Wexford after you to marry again?”
    “My aunt exceeded herself last night. She invited not one, but three eligible chits, all smelling of flowers and sizable dowries, to what was supposed to be a family dinner.”
    That had been Alec’s one advantage in possessing an unacceptable title and a lascivious reputation: no one attempted to force a dowdy daughter on him. Of course, all that had changed once it had become known he was to inherit a fortune. An astonishing number of highbrow mamas, who once had thought nothing of giving him the cut direct, now thrust their bony, freckled daughters into his path like the most brazen flesh peddlers.
    He caught Lucien’s frowning regard and forced a smile. “Were any of your dinner companions beauties?”
    “None would be quiet long enough for me to tell. They all chattered like magpies. I didn’t get to swallow a mouthful during dinner, what with this one asking me if I liked to ride and that one asking if I preferred to live in the country or in town.”
    “I’m surprised you stayed.”
    A faint smile curled the hard mouth. “I didn’t. I made my escape out a library window when one of the young ladies began caterwauling at the pianoforte.” Lucien scowled at Alec’s chuckle. “Oh yes, you can afford to laugh, now that you are safely wed.”
    Alec’s laughter died at the reminder. He was married. That fact had been borne to him all too well this morning when Julia had asked where he was going. He supposed it had been an innocent enough question, originating from genuine curiosity rather than a wish to curtail his activities. What had made it so unpalatable was the realization that as his wife, Julia had every right to make just such an inquiry.
    Lucien pulled a tinderbox from his pocket and struck a match. With careless grace, he lit a cheroot and tossed the match into the fire. “Tell me, how do the wedding shackles fit?”
    “Damned tight, and uncomfortable as hell.”
    “I warned you not to pursue that path.” The duke’s gaze darkened. “Marriage is a difficult road, even under the best circumstances.”
    Alec wondered if his friend was referring to the consequences of his own failed marriage, but the shuttered look on the duke’s face kept him from asking.
    “I had no choice. I promised Grandfather to keep the money from Nick.” A flicker of distaste rose at his cousin’s name. At one time, he and Nick had been inseparable and he’d thought the world of his older cousin. But those times were long gone.
    Lucien blew a cloud of smoke. “You are too concerned about your cousin.”
    “Don’t underestimate him, Luce. He can be deadly.”
    “So you keep telling me.” The duke shot him a hard stare. “You know, Alec, there are other ways to obtain money.”
    Alec took a chair near the fire and stretched his legs before him. “I didn’t do it for the money, Luce. You know that. I made a promise to my grandfather.”
    “You are too stiff-necked for your own good,” the duke growled, his brows lowered. “I hate to see you sacrifice your happiness for the misguided wishes of a dead man.”
    “You did the same thing.”
    “And regretted it. I have no desire to see you make the mistakes I’ve made.”
    Alec said nothing. How could he explain to Lucien, who possessed family, a respected title and an incontestable position in the
ton
, that all Alec had was his word? His word and now, thanks to his grandfather and Julia, a fortune. Of course, there had been a price for that fortune, one that he dared not examine too closely.
    An expression of concern crossed Lucien’s face. “You look as blue as a megrim. Though I imagined life with the demanding Therese would pall, I scarcely thought it would hit you quite