Secret Brides [3] Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage (27 page)

Lily made a great show of smoothing her skirts. “Yes, I know. But I cannot tell you. And neither can Annie.” She looked a bit guilty and a bit reluctant. “I’m sorry, Medford.”

“So, there you have it,” Colton replied. “Kate asked Lily and Annie to keep it secret and they are honoring her wishes.”

James lunged at Colton. Lily jumped up and placed a hand on his chest. James took a step back.

The three of them stared at each other. James was breathing heavily, his eyes shooting fire at Colton. Justin raised his eyebrows and turned back around to attend to his toys.

James turned away from Colton with a jerk, straightened his jacket, and ran his fingers through his hair, disheveling it. “Fine,” he ground out. “I’ll find her myself.” Turning on his heel, he stalked from the room.

Lily and Devon watched him go, each shaking their heads.

“Poor Medford.” Lily sighed.

“What the deuce has got into that chap?” Colton asked.

“I cannot believe that was our James,” Lily added.

Colton shook his head. “It seems positively impossible, I admit. But I do believe Lord Medford has fallen in love.”

*   *   *

James spent a bloody fortune. He’d bribed the proprietors of every hotel in London and the surrounding vicinity. If Kate was staying anywhere in the lower half of the country, by God, he’d intended to find out. He nearly called Mr. Horton, to track her down.

She was not, however, staying at a hotel. And his money, in fact, was not what found her.

As he did every morning at precisely seven-thirty, Locke delivered his employer’s perfectly pressed copy of the
Times.

James accepted the paper in the midst of his stack of correspondence, his cup of black coffee, and his urgent business papers. Somewhere in between his third bite of eggs and toast, he carefully shook out the front page and casually scanned the headlines.

After dutifully reading the business news and parliamentary proceedings, James flipped the pages to the Society section. He’d had his eye on a certain story. Seemed the entire town wanted to know the answer to the same question he did. Where in the hell was the newly exonerated dowager Duchess of Markingham? And it seemed while there was quite a bit of conjecture, no one, including himself, knew. Damn it. Had she managed to leave for the Continent already? Had she slipped out of town that quickly without anyone becoming the wiser? It didn’t seem possible, but as the days passed with no sighting of her, it began to seem more and more likely.

Minutes later, Locke reentered the breakfast room clearing his throat. “Lady Eversly to see you, milord.”

James snapped up his head. “Lady Catherine? To see me? At this hour?”

Locke tactfully kept his eyes downcast. “She indicated it was quite urgent, my lord.”

“Very well. Show her in.”

Not two seconds later, Catherine Eversly swept past Locke into the room. She wore her white-blond hair in a chignon and her ice-blue silk gown clung to every curve of her perfect figure. Catherine was a beauty, and she knew it. Neither friend nor foe, she and James shared a sort of peaceable trust. She was also quite married.

“So glad you invited me in, Medford,” she said with a regal shake of her head. “Or that might have been a bit awkward.”

Locke gave the woman a narrow-eyed glare before retreating from the room after a nod from his master.

James stood, pulled the napkin from his lap, and bowed. “Lady Catherine. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Catherine swept forward, her fine white-blond eyebrow arched. James always got the feeling that he was standing in the presence of royalty when Catherine entered a room. More like Marie Antoinette than Queen Caroline, however. And Catherine was always up to something.

James gestured to the rosewood chair next to him. “Please have a seat. May I offer you some breakfast?” He nodded to a waiting footman, indicating to fill a plate, but Catherine waved a well-manicured hand impatiently in the air.

“No, no, I couldn’t possibly eat. I’ll simply have a cup of tea.”

Another nod to the footman and a china teacup appeared in front of Catherine. She slid into the chair next to James and leaned enticingly toward him. Catherine always knew how to display her—ahem—self to her best advantage even at this hour of the morning.

“You surprise me, my lady, I didn’t think you rose until after noon.”

Catherine smiled her infamous feline smile and dipped a silver spoon into her teacup to stir. “My, my, we are formal this morning. You haven’t called me by my title in an age. And I never rise before noon if I can help it.”

James eyed her over his coffee cup. “I know you haven’t come to discuss our first-name basis. So tell me, why are you here? What’s got you out of your bed at such an early hour?”

Catherine picked up her cup and brought it to her lips. She took a sip and put it down with a little flourish. She nodded toward the paper James held in his hand. “See the latest?” she asked with an unmistakable sparkle in her eye.

He lifted his brows. “About?”

“Ah, don’t play coy with me, James. I happen to know you have the
Times
open to page five.”

James glanced briefly at the page in his lap. Page 5. He quickly folded it and tossed it onto the gleaming mahogany tabletop. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, I know you are interested in the whereabouts of the dowager Duchess of Markingham.”

James struggled to keep his face blank. He knew Catherine well enough to know the lady never got directly to the point. She would tell him what she had to say in due time and he would endeavor to keep from throttling her while he waited.

“Do you have news for me?” he asked in a steady voice.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Why else would I be here at this ungodly hour?”

His voice simmered. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Tell me, Catherine. Do you know where Kate is?”

“Of course I do, you daft man.” She took another sip of her tea and regarded her fingernails leisurely. “She happens to be staying with me.”

CHAPTER 38

It was exactly two hours later when James entered Catherine Eversly’s town house and made his way down the hall to stand outside the rose salon where Catherine insisted Kate could be found. He’d managed to discern from Catherine, after two cups of tea and a great deal of cajoling, that Lily and Annie had been instrumental in introducing Kate to Catherine. Catherine, never one to shy away from a scandal and insert herself into the latest
on dit
, had been only too happy to play secret hostess to the most talked-about woman in London. She seemed to relish it, actually. She adored having the biggest story of the winter season living under her roof with no one the wiser.

“I thought you’d be more clever, Medford,” Catherine had drawled, fluttering her long black lashes over the rim of her teacup. “I had no idea it would take you so long to figure it out.”

He regarded her through half-lidded eyes. “I didn’t figure it out.”

“Precisely why I’m here, darling. I wanted to put you out of your misery. And get this little drama under way. It was all taking far too long, to be honest.” She laughed. “Besides, I’ve always had a fondness for you, Medford dear. You know that. I do hate to watch you suffer.”

“Thank you for that,” he said in an unconvinced tone. But he’d insisted that he be allowed to visit Kate as soon as possible. And now here he was.

He took a deep breath, eyeing the door in front of him.

What would he say to her? She’d left him. Why? She’d spent the night with him, they’d discussed marriage, and then she’d vanished, leaving only an insufficient note to explain her actions. He steeled his resolve. He meant to ask her why she’d left, to tell her why she should stay, and then to leave it to her to decide once and for all. Whatever she decided, he would abide by her wishes. But she would bloody well say it to his face. No more notes. James straightened his shoulders and rapped once upon the door. This was the second time she’d left him. There would not be a third.

There was a muffled sound of movement within the room for a moment before the door swung open. Kate stood there in a pretty velvet emerald-green day dress looking radiant as ever. She also looked shocked as hell to see him.

Her hand flew to her throat. “James.”

“May I come in?”

She stood staring at him for a few moments as if in a daze, then she moved aside and opened the door wider, ushering him in.

He brushed past her into the salon.

“How did you find me?” she asked, closing the door behind him.

He turned to face her. “Don’t worry, Lily and Annie kept your secret well. I spent the last several days bribing every employee of every hotel across the city.”

She arched a brow. “Breaking rules? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I assure you. Nothing I’ve done in the past few days sounds like me.”

She pushed her hands down her skirts. “But how did you find—”

“Catherine paid me a visit.”

She looked down and nodded. “I see.”

“Don’t blame her. She was doing me a favor.”

Kate twisted her fingers. “I’d never blame her. She’s been so kind to take me in.” Her gaze searched his face. “Are you all right, James?”

He smiled a humorless smile. “How can you ask me that?”

She moved over to the window and looked out, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Why did you come?”

His voice was tight. “Funny. I thought I’d asked you to marry me, and you never gave me your answer. Or did you forget?”

She traced her finger along the windowsill. “I thought my answer was clear when I told you I was leaving.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “You left me a note. A note I ripped into a hundred pieces.”

Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, James.”

“Tell me to my face that the answer is no,” he demanded. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

She swung around to face him, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m leaving for the Continent in two days, James.”

*   *   *

Kate eyed James. His hair was disheveled, his cravat askew. He looked completely mussed and endearingly handsome. And she’d done this to him. His house was destroyed, his reputation in danger, and now he was apparently willing to completely obliterate it for her. She couldn’t allow it.

When he’d asked her if the answer to his proposal was no, she couldn’t say it, couldn’t drag that one word past her dry lips. She wanted so badly to say yes, but she couldn’t say that either.

He didn’t love her. Had never said as much. He’d offered for her out of a sense of duty. A misguided sense of duty. Just like he had with Lily. He was trying to fix it all.

There were some things you just couldn’t fix. But that wasn’t the worst part. The hardest part. The fact was, Kate loved him. She’d fallen in love with him, truly, deeply. And she couldn’t allow him to sacrifice himself for her. She was a social outcast, a pariah. She had nothing to offer him but ruin. If he had truly loved her, truly wanted her, she might be tempted to accept his offer. They might be able to make it work. But she couldn’t let him ruin himself over someone he didn’t even love. No, she’d spent years in a loveless marriage before and she refused to repeat that mistake ever again.

“James,” she whispered, turning to him. “I cannot allow you to ruin yourself over me.”

“That is my decision to make.”

She dug her fingernails into her palm. “No it’s not, actually. It’s mine too.”

He cursed under his breath. “I didn’t mean—”

She closed her eyes and put up a hand. “I know. You’re just trying to do the right thing. But I cannot allow you to.”

“Damn it, Kate. You’re not allowing me—”

Her eyes snapped open again. “James, I know you. You’re so noble, so full of honor. You want to do right by everyone.” She couldn’t say Lily’s name. Not now. And what did any of it matter? Even if he’d never offered for Lily, the situation was untenable because of her own blackened reputation.

“Kate, don’t do this.” He moved toward her, reached for her, and she had to close her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t see the unshed tears. He wasn’t making this easy for her. She’d just have to play her very last card. She whirled around, turning her back on him, staring unseeingly out the frozen panes of glass in the window. “Marriage is hardly a panacea, James. The first time I married, everyone acted as if I’d been given a gift from the heavens. I quickly realized that was far from true. You’ll forgive me if I don’t think marrying another nobleman is the answer to my prayers.”

There was a long, painful pause before he answered in a tight, clipped voice. “Is that how you truly feel? You equate me with George?”

Again, she couldn’t drag the word past her lips. Instead, she merely nodded. She shut her eyes. “Good-bye, James,” she whispered.

Seconds later, she heard the door close behind him and the click of his boots on the marble in the hallway. She rested her forehead against the freezing windowpane and let the tears she’d been holding back flow freely down her cheeks. Sobs racked her body. Oh God, she’d just performed the most selfless act of her life, letting the man she loved walk away.

CHAPTER 39

James tossed the small glass of gin into the back of his throat. He gritted his teeth. It tasted like hell. But the Curious Goat Inn was as fine a place as any to drink his troubles away. They’d given him a table in the back, a full bottle of liquor, and a questionably clean glass. Perfect.

He tipped the bottle to the mouth of the glass again, clicking the two together. Damn it all to hell. He’d done the one thing he swore he would never do. He’d actually gone and fallen in love. Of all blasted things. It’s true that he hadn’t completely ruled out marriage. Hell, he’d proposed to Lily a matter of months ago. She’d turned him down of course, but love had never been a factor. And it wouldn’t be. Or so he’d vowed years ago. Years and years ago. Marriage and children were one thing. Love was another thing altogether.

He’d only ever loved, truly loved, one other woman in the world, and he’d both never met her and been responsible for her death. Love meant a great deal of pain and a great deal of risk, two things he wanted no part of. His tightly controlled life had been a study in perfection, yes. And perfection involved making the right decisions too. Love made nothing but messes. Big, odious messes. Ones that needed to be cleaned up posthaste.