“Unless you want your teeth knocked to the back of your throat, release the lady and walk away.”
Lucia jumped and whipped her head in Alex’s direction. He fixed his glare on her partner.
“I don’t know who you are”—Reginald pointed a chubby finger at him—“but I’ll have you know this lady is my fiancée. Go find your own.” He gave Lucia a sloppy smile, and she took advantage of the moment to scoot out of his reach.
Alex smiled. He’d been in a foul mood all evening and would relish plowing his fist into the man’s soft, pudgy middle. A good fight was just what he needed right now.
“Your fiancée?” He shot Lucia an incredulous look. “Unfortunately, the lady and I have a more intimate connection. I’m her brother-in-law.” Or close enough, he amended.
Lucia’s eyes grew into dark moons as she studied him, and when Reginald glanced at her for confirmation, she gave a distracted nod.
“Lord S-S-Selbourne. At last we meet.” Reginald staggered back. “Perhaps not on the best of terms, but nevertheless, I’m pl-pl-pleased to make your acquaintance.” He stumbled over a graceless bow, eyes wide with alarm.
Alex’s gaze returned to Lucia’s and held. Her eyes were still wide and unreadable.
“Your name, sir?” Alex’s attention never left Lucia. “Ah—”
“Viscount Dandridge,” Lucia supplied, as her fiancé seemed to have forgotten. Alex nodded, effectively dismissing the man from his thoughts. He wouldn’t waste his time with the whey-faced coward. But Lucia . . .
She was nothing like the girl he remembered from his brother ’s wedding five years before. She’d been—what? Fourteen? Fifteen? Her eyes were the same. Azure blue, if memory served. But when had she acquired that creamy skin, those lush lips, those curves?
And her hair—glorious curls cascading down her back. Hair a man could wrap thickly around his hands. Hair that could brush against skin, teasing it and—
“Selbourne,” she said, “I can’t begin to express how I feel at seeing you again.”
Shutting out the tempting image, Alex tried to focus on her words.
“Unfortunately, Lord Dandridge had a little too much to drink tonight.” With complete composure, she pushed an errant curl from her cheek. “I thought the air might help.”
“I see.” He continued to pierce her with his gaze. She broke eye contact first, and he saw a flicker of something—anger? resentment?—in her eyes before she shot Reginald an exasperated look. Though Alex doubted the coward had enough backbone to argue with him, he spoke first.
“Dandridge,” he said before the man was foolish enough to try and intervene. “You may go. I’ll take my”—he glanced at Lucia—“sister home.”
Lucia huffed loudly. “I’m not your sister.”
“Your sister is married to my brother. That’s close enough. Let’s go.”
“There’s no need for this, Selbourne. Reginald is quite capable of taking me home. There’s no reason to start gossip, which, you well know, will be the inevitable result if he and I leave separately.”
Alex raised one eyebrow. He understood her concern for appearances. There would be gossip if Dandridge did not escort her home. It was just that he didn’t care. Alex wanted Dandridge to disappear, and he generally got what he wanted.
“Tell Lady Pool that Miss Dashing has a headache.” He directed his words to Reginald, but his gaze never left Lucia’s. “Say I offered to escort her home, and you agreed.” He winked at Lucia. “Be sure to convey her regrets.”
Lucia’s eyebrows shot together, and she glanced from Alex to Reginald and back again. “Lord Selbourne—” The edge in her voice might have cut glass. “While we’re exceedingly grateful for your . . . kind gesture”—sarcasm oozed from her voice—“I assure you it is entirely unnecessary. If you will excuse me.” She placed her hand on Reginald’s arm and turned toward the house.
“One more step and you’ll be taking your leave from over my shoulder.”
She jerked as though his tone were a rapier slashing through her.
“Good Lord!” Reginald gasped. Alex expected a similar response from Lucia. Instead she whirled to face him, her eyes suddenly more indigo than azure, and hurling silent but deadly daggers at him. The tumultuous skies before a rainstorm on the Yorkshire moors were less threatening.
“Lord Selbourne—” Her hands fisted at her hips.
Alex blinked. Was the chit actually about to challenge him again? Inconceivable. He watched in disbelief as she parted her lips to argue further.
“I don’t need—”
He grasped her arm firmly above her elbow and yanked her to him. “Don’t test me.”
Her skin was impossibly soft, and he glanced down to verify that he was actually touching her bare arm and not the silk of her gown or gloves. Intrigued, he pulled her closer. When her face was mere inches from his, he said, “I’ll have my wish one way—or another.”
Lucia’s eyes slitted and her lips thinned. He imagined he could hear her teeth grinding. For a moment, in her anger, she resembled the child he vaguely remembered. Then her features relaxed, and she turned to Reginald and smiled.
“Reginald, dear.” She tried to move toward her retreating fiancé, but Alex held her elbow fast, trying to ignore the temptation of her full breasts pressing against him.
Lucia shot him a glare, which only made him grin.
“Lord Selbourne and I haven’t seen each other in so long. I hope you can forgive me if I allow him to chaperone me home,” she bit out. “We have so much to catch up on, and he so rarely has the chance to exercise his brotherly . . . affections.” The look she sent Alex would have withered most men. He stifled a large yawn.
“Of course, darling,” Reginald said, already backing away. “I will call on you tomorrow. Pray excuse me.”
Dandridge bowed awkwardly then turned and dashed for the house. Alex almost snorted. Worthless milksop. When her fiancé was out of sight, Lucia rounded on Alex, shaking his hand from her elbow.
“How dare you!” Her eyes fired hot with fury. “How dare you saunter in after all these years and treat me as if I were your charge! You have no obligations toward me, brother.” Her hand shot out, and she poked him with an accusing finger. “Surely you recall that I have a brother of my own—a real brother—as well as a father, and I certainly do not need you”—she poked him again—“to act as their surrogate.”
Alex’s lips twitched. Little Lucia. How she had grown up, and what a temper! Finger wagging, she stood lecturing him, at least half a foot shorter than he and acting every bit the disciplining governess. Except his thoughts toward his governess had never tended in this direction. He would have laughed aloud if he hadn’t remembered the circumstances in which he’d found her.
“If you’d been able to handle your wayward fiancé, I wouldn’t have intervened at all. But, judging from the scene I observed, you were about to be compromised.”
“That is utterly ridiculous!” Lucia waved his words away with an impatient flick of her hand. “Reginald simply over-imbibed. I had everything under control.”