The Abduction of Julia by Karen Hawkins Page A

so quickly.”
    “Therese is not the problem.”
    No, Julia was the problem. Every prim, frustrating, indecipherable inch. Alec slid a hand into his coat pocket and closed his fingers around her spectacles. He’d found them in his overcoat and had meant to leave them with her this morning, but had forgotten in his haste to escape.
    Lucien flicked the ashes from his cheroot into the fire. “Your grandfather must have been touched in the head to want you to marry such a simpering flirt as Therese. Good God, the chit has been half a pace from ruin since she stepped out of the schoolroom.”
    The cool steel of Julia’s spectacles warmed in Alec’s palm. “Lucien, I did not—”
    The door opened and Burroughs’ thin form stood outlined against the light from the hall, his wispy hair forming a halo. He said in a voice of long suffering, “Lord Edmund Valmont.”
    A fashionable young man burst into the room, golden hair in disarray about a plump cherubim face. His bottle-green coat sat across ridiculously padded shoulders, the waist tightly nipped in until he resembled a stuffed sausage more than the well-dressed dandy he aspired to be. A florid waistcoat brightened the ensemble, while four rows of huge brass buttons twinkled merrily. Impervious to the stunned expressions of his companions, Edmund rushed forward.
    Burroughs favored Edmund’s attire with a pained stare before he pulled the door closed behind him.
    “Alec!” Edmund cried. “I have been looking all over for you.”
    Lucien sighed. “What is it this time, halfling? Is the watch after you again? Or has yet another angry husband requested you meet him at twenty paces?”
    Edmund waved his hand impatiently. “No, no, no. I have just returned from Lady Chowerton’s, and—”
    “At this hour of the morning?” Alec lifted his brows. “I take it Lord Chowerton is still repairing in the country.”
    The youth’s round cheeks reddened. ‘That doesn’t matter. Fanny… I mean, Lady Chowerton, saw Therese Frant at the Satterleys’ musicale last night .“ He fixed a wide blue gaze on Alec. ”She is telling everyone she duped you and left you standing at the altar .“
    Alec stifled the urge to curse. The little baggage had lost no time in holding him out for ridicule before the entire
ton
. Damn her black soul. If he got his hands on her, he’d shake her until the feathers that filled her little head puffed out her ears.
    He caught Lucien’s questioning gaze and forced himself to shrug. ‘That is why I was going to visit you this morning .“
    Edmund’s jaw dropped. “You mean to say it is true? That you and Therese didn’t… But then the fortune… good God! You must be devastated!”
    Lucien arched a dark brow. “Alec, before Edmund begins to imagine you are ready to put a bullet between your eyes, pray tell us what’s occurred.”
    This wasn’t the way he had thought to tell it, with Lucien looking as though he were ready to horsewhip Therese, and Edmund leaning forward, eyes aglow as if he sat at Ascot with his horse in the lead. Alec rubbed his neck, where an annoying crick lingered. Nothing about this marriage seemed destined to bring comfort. “I was trying to tell you when Edmund arrived. I didn’t marry Therese.”
    “Then the fortune—”
    “Is still mine.”
    Edmund blinked rapidly. “But how? You spoke with every solicitor in town and they all said there was no way to set the codicil aside.”
    “Quiet, halfling,” Lucien ordered.
    The youth sank onto the edge of the settee, his flamboyant waistcoat straining over his paunch. “Well?”
    Alec raked a hand through his hair. “I married the daughter of
one
of the late Earls of Covington.”
    A faint flicker of surprise crossed Lucien’s face. Edmund looked thoroughly confused. He tilted his head to one side, the height of his shirt points making it impossible for him to hold his chin at a normal level. “
One
of the late Earls?”
    “Therese’s father had an older brother