Page 39 of His Highland Duchess
“Julian…” Lysander turned toward his friend. “This is… unexpected.”
“Do not sound so happy about it,” he chuckled. “And this must be Her Grace.” He stayed back across the foyer, but his large face broke into a smile. “I was hoping I might finally make your acquaintance. Shall you be joining us?”
“No, I do nae think so.”
“A shame.” Julian winked. “It would be nice to have someone else to look at than Lysander. A beauty such as you are, it would be a real pleasure to be sure.”
It was a strange thing, but Lysander felt a sudden pang of jealousy stab at him. Julian had always been popular with the ladies, just as they had always been popular with him. And where he did not think Julian was flirting with Margaret, nor that she would see it as such, to see him admire her as he so clearly was…
Why does it upset me so?
Lysander’s feelings toward Margaret were nothing if not conflicted. On the one hand, she still vexed him terribly, and he was still not so certain of her influence around his daughters. But he bore an undeniable attraction to her, one which had increased tenfold after the previous evening. He wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone, and just the thought that another might have their eye on her did things to him he could not fully comprehend.
“Yes,” he said, holding out a hand for her to take. “She shall be joining us.”
“I will be?” she balked.
“Why not?” he said simply, squeezing her hand while making sure that Julian saw him do it. “Unless you have somewhere else you need to be?”
She frowned at the gesture and the comment. Clearly confused, there was no doubt she was wondering about his true intentions. “As you wish.”
“Wonderful!” Julian cheered, oblivious to the confusion taking place between man and wife.
Keeping hold of his wife’s hand, Lysander followed Julian into the drawing room where his large friend made his way toward the drinking cabinet, which looked to Lysander as if he had already gotten himself into.
“You’re just in time,” Julian chuckled as they crossed the room together. He snatched at a half-poured glass of whiskey. “I was about to pour myself another.”
“Help yourself,” Lysander said.
“Oh, I already have.” He downed the glass and then walked quickly to the liquor cabinet, where he poured himself a second drink. “A good drink, this.” He finished pouring and had a sip. “I might have to steal it from you.”
“Assuming there is any left by the time you are done.”
His laughter was like the boom of a cannon. “There certainly wouldn’t be if you had taken any longer. The help said you were on a picnic?” His eyes lit up when he looked at Margaret. “Not that I can blame you.” Julian strode across the room, stopping short and offering Margaret an exaggerated bow. “Your Grace, let us make it official.”
Margaret eyed him with caution. It was a reaction that was expected, as Julian had a large presence that was off-putting to most, until they grew used to him. And often, not even then.
“It is nice to meet ye,” she said, offering him her hand. Julian took it and gave the back a wet kiss. Lysander eyed the kiss, his stomach turning just a little to see how long Julian’s lips lingered on his wife’s hand.
“No doubt Lysander has told you all about me,” Julian said, dropping her hand finally.
Margaret raised an eyebrow at Lysander. “I cannae say that he has.”
“Shame on him.”
“Perhaps you should take it as a hint,” Lysander joked. He was still holding Margaret’s hand, but he felt the need to pull her in closer to him. Although he knew he was being silly, there was something about the way that Julian was watching Margaret that made him feel suddenly possessive.
“Too far.” Julian touched his chest as if he were hurt. “Why do you try and wound me?”
“For fun, mostly.”
He laughed and then winked at Margaret. “Is this your doing, Your Grace? I have heard of wives trying to drive wedges between friends, so I can only assume this is your handiwork.”
Margaret laughed. “I da nae think ye enough of a threat to even try. As I said, Lysander has nae mentioned ye once. Now, I am beginning to see why.”
Julian laughed louder and shook his head. “That accent. It is not without its charm, that is for sure.”
“What brings you here, Julian?” Lysander asked, steering the conversation. He gestured toward two couches by the fire, to which Julian obliged and took a seat on the single couch.
