Page 12 of Lucien's Gamble

Fontaine followed her gaze and snorted. “That Remington mongrel is a blight on Society. I have no notion why he continues to receive invitations.”

“Lord Fontaine!” Julienne was astonished by his rudeness. He offered a dashing smile, but she suddenly found him less than charming.

“His kind has no business mingling with First Society. It taints us all.”

She stiffened, and Fontaine easily adjusted his steps to compensate. Knowing it would be proper to hold her tongue, she still couldn’t manage it. “Mr. Remington has made a fortune for himself with hard work and determination. I would think that would be cause for admiration.”

“I admire his ability to make money, Lady Julienne,” he conceded, “but the manners in which he does so are vulgar. He’s nothing more than a domesticated pirate, and his …personaldeportment leaves much to be desired. Lucien Remington is no gentleman.”

Julienne stopped abruptly, causing Fontaine to stumble. Lean and sinewy, he recovered quickly.

“I find your comments offensive, my lord.”

Fontaine frowned. With a firm hand, he urged her forward again. “I apologize if I have offended. I merely stated the truth.”

“Are you that well acquainted with him?” she challenged.

“Now … I wouldn’t say that.”

“Then perhaps there are hidden depths to his character of which you are unaware.”

Her gaze drifted to Lucien as they passed him. He engaged his companion with singular attention. He’d found his latest conquest. And here she was defending his character like a lovesick ninny.

“You appear flushed, Lady Julienne,” Fontaine murmured.

She was furious with herself, but certainly couldn’t say so. “I’m a little warm.”

With a mischievous smile, he led her neatly out a nearby set of French doors and came to a stop on the balcony. “Better?”

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. Fontainewasremarkably handsome and charming, if a little on the wrong side of arrogant. She wondered if, given the chance, he could incite her to the heights of passion Lucien had. She felt nothing for him at the moment besides a slight irritation, but perhaps an attraction could grow. In any case, she could not continue to pine for a man who was never meant to be hers. “Will you escort me through the garden, my lord?”

He arched a brow. “Should we find your chaperone before proceeding?”

“Would you prefer that we did?” she asked, knowing she should insist they find Aunt Eugenia, but more concerned about fleeing the sight of Lucien and his lover.

He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”

As they strolled along the nearby gravel paths, she forced herself to relax and to enjoy the slight evening breeze. They found a small bench in viewing distance of the manse and sat down. Fontaine turned to her, taking both of her hands in his. “I would be delighted, Lady Julienne, if you would allow me to escort you to the Derby at Epsom next week.”

Julienne knew that to be seen with the handsome marquess at such a public gathering would solidify his courtship in the eyes of Society. “Lord Fontaine—”

“Justin, please.”

She was stunned. His offer was an intimate gesture. He could probably count on one hand the number of people who called him by his given name rather than his title.

“Very well … Justin.” She took a deep breath. She could also offer intimate gestures. Lucien could not be allowed to ruin her for every other man. Certainly she had not ruined him for other women. “I would greatly appreciate it if you would kiss me.”

Fontaine looked understandably surprised, then wary, before grinning with delight. If they were caught, it could be a disaster for her. He would either offer marriage to save her reputation, or he would walk away. As a powerful marquess, Fontaine could not be forced into anything, certainly nothing as drastic as marriage, but at the moment she felt reckless, her stung pride and aching heart goading her to further foolishness.

“With pleasure,” he murmured, drawing her closer.

Julienne closed her eyes and prayed for passion. His mouth brushed across hers, featherlight and fleeting. The exchange was not the least distasteful—it was actually quite pleasant—but it was sadly lacking in any combustible qualities. Her heart didn’t race, her breath didn’t catch. But then she hadn’t really expected otherwise.

She opened her eyes and hid her disappointment with a smile. “I would very much appreciate your escort to the Derby, my lord.”

“Was that a test, Lady Julienne? And if so, might I safely assume I passed?”

Julienne couldn’t tell him the truth, so she simply kept smiling. Thankfully, Fontaine didn’t press her further. He stood and held out his arm, but she demurred. “Go ahead, please. I want a moment to catch my breath before I return to the ballroom.”

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