Page 16 of Lucien's Gamble

Lucien snorted. “What about his personal life?”

“He’s a known womanizer, but he doesn’t gamble or drink to excess. I was unable to find any evidence of his siring any bastards.”

“And socially?”

“He maintains his seat in the Lords, and he’s held in high esteem by the peerage.”

Lucien dropped the folder. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, remembering the sight of Julienne kissing Fontaine.

From that recollection came unbidden images—Fontaine holding Julienne and caressing her luscious breasts. Fontaine riding between her thighs, plunging into the silken heat of her, as Lucien could not. Sick with jealousy, he clenched his teeth until his jaw ached.

Julienne was a lady to the core. Lucien knew he could do nothing but ruin her, nothing but cause her to be ostracized by her peers, shaming her, until her spirit was crushed and the affection in her eyes faded to bitter resentment.

“Mr. Remington? Are you feeling unwell? You look feverish.”

Lucien opened his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Perhaps you should rest a bit. You’ve been working too hard lately.”

Lucien stood and collected the folder. “No, I have an appointment.”

“With whom? I see nothing on your schedule.”

“It’s none of your damn business,” Lucien growled.

“Your attire …” Marchant glanced at the file in Lucien’s hand. “Tell me you don’t intend to call on Lady Julienne!”

For the first time, Lucien damned the high intelligence of his man-of-affairs.

But instead of censure, Marchant laughed. “Are you branching out into matchmaking, Lucien? Or do you hope to collect on Montrose’s debt through his brother-in-law?”

“Go to hell, Harold,” he growled.

Sobering, Marchant asked, “Are you quite certain you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course.”

“And what is it you’re doing?”

Lucien paused on the threshold of his office. “The honorable thing. For once.”

“Marriage prospects?”Julienne gaped at him, her dark eyes wide with disbelief.

Lucien clutched his hat in his hands. His throat was so tight, it was hard to swallow. Seeing Julienne’s golden beauty in daylight made him think of all the things they’d never be allowed to do together. They would never go for rides in the park or strolls down the street. They could never enjoy a picnic or even the simple act of tea. Hell, he’d had to use subterfuge merely to exchange a few words with her. The harsh reminder strengthened his resolve. He had to remove her from his reach before he destroyed her.

Lowering himself to the chaise, Lucien nodded. “I know your brother has deserted you, sweet. You must marry quickly, and I thought perhaps I could assist you with that endeavor.”

She set the folder on the seat between them, her eyes downcast, hiding her thoughts.

“Aren’t you even going to look at it?”

“Certainly.” She cast him a sidelong glance. “But you know far more about my circumstances than I do about yours. So, before I choose my future husband, I want to discover all there is to know about you.”

He scowled. The less she knew about him, the better. “I dislike discussing myself.”

“Why? I find you fascinating. Your deportment is faultless, your manners impeccable, your taste excellent. You’ve obviously had some schooling—”

“Didn’t you listen to Fontaine last night? I’m a mongrel, a blight on Society.”

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