Wicked And Wild: Spencers in Love Book Two by Abigail Graves Page B

habit, Lucien
decided it was time to make his way home. A table erupted in raucous laughter,
drawing his attention from across the room. He rolled his eyes when he saw that
Randall Morley, Viscount Travers was holding court. The man was a swine. Lucien
was almost through the door when he heard his name mentioned, he stilled and
listened.
    “Can't say I blame him but he’ll have his hands full with
that one. The Spencer chit is a fine piece, tried to have a go at her myself
but she wasn't game for it.” Lucien's lip curled and he clenched his fist as
the table exploded in laughter and rude comments. “Don't know how he managed to
get that minx to save herself for him while he fucked his way through the ton
but I’d…” Lucien had heard enough. His roar cut through the room as he rushed
towards the table.
    “ Travers !” Lucien kicked his chair, sending the man sprawling
sideways. He dove and grabbed him by his lapels and threw him against the wall.
Stunned and wide eyed, the man didn't have time to move before Lucien's hand
locked around his throat. The sound of chairs sliding and falling over echoed
through the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edgar Thorpe, Travers’ crony,
advancing. Lucien grabbed a candlestick off a side table with his free hand and
swung it at Thorpe. It connected with his jaw and sent him flying. The room
became completely still. He looked at Travers, his face was purple and his eyes
were bulging. Lucien released him and slammed his fist into his nose. Travers
gasped as his eyes rolled back into his head and he slid to the ground. Lucien
turned and looked around the room.
    “The
next man I hear of maligning my intended will meet me over pistols.” He yelled.
“I would have said no to all of your wives and sisters if I had known Mirabelle
Spencer would have me.” A hand closed on his shoulder and Lucien turned and
swung. Alastair caught his fist in his hand just inches from his face. Lucien
relaxed.
    “It's time to leave, Lucien.” He said softly. Lucien
nodded. Alastair’s eyes traveled around the room. “I'm sure there is no doubt
as to who his second would be if anyone is foolish enough to ignore His Grace’s
warning.” His voice was clear and hard and met with silence.
     
    Alastair inspected Lucien's hand once they were inside
his carriage.
    “That was a neat punch; your hand should be fine aside
from being a little sore. The whole scene was impressive.” He sat back and
crossed his legs. “I was worried years of debauchery and old age would have
made you slow.” Lucien closed his eyes and smiled. He was nearly foxed and it
felt good to hear Alastair tease him. He'd barely spoken to him since he
proposed to Mirabelle.
    “Why were you following me?” Alastair had never been one
for gaming. Even if he had been, he never lost at cards which made him
unpopular at the tables. “I think you'd have been disappointed if you expected
a wild night, I was just about to head home.”
    “I know. You’re drunk. You’ve always known to go home
before your judgment was too impaired. I wasn't following you because I was
worried you might stop at a brothel. This business with Whitrose concerns me.”
Lucien cracked open and eye and focused on Alastair.
    “I would think the idea of someone attacking me would
appeal. Though I’m sure I could handle myself if anything should happen.”
Lucien stretched and rested his feet in the corner of the bench. Alastair
sighed.
    “I
don't want you injured, Lucien. Unless you hurt Mirabelle, then I would be the
one to do it.” There was no humor in his voice. “I know that you would never
choose to hurt her. I am worried that you won't be satisfied with one woman for
very long. What if you grow bored?”
    “This isn't just any woman,
Alastair. It's Mirabelle. I love her, truly.” Lucien felt a familiar warmth and
calmness settle over him as he thought of her. “This isn’t about my body, it's
about my soul. This is my life.”
    “I