When Marrying a Scoundrel (21 page)

He smoothed a hand over the front of his jacket. “I probably should.”

“Wait for a bit,” she advised, closing the door and coming deeper into the room. “There are still enough people talking about you out there that you’ll be mobbed if you show your face. You do not look as though you are up for that.”

“No,” he muttered on a strangled laugh. “I’m not.”

“Sit then. I need a whiskey. Would you care to join me?”

He nodded and she went to the small mahogany sideboard on the far wall and poured two generous glasses. When she joined him, she gestured for him to sit in one of the wing-backed chairs in front of her desk. She seated herself in the other.

La Rieux fixed him with a not altogether unsympathetic gaze. “I want you to know that I was unaware of your relationship with the earl when I came to fetch you, my lord.”

He winced at the slight deference in her tone. It had never been there before. “I appreciate that. Still, the association will be good for business, will it not?” He shot her a strained smile.

Her lips curved slightly in response. “
Oui
. I suppose you will want a cut of the profits, no?”

Laughter burst from his throat, strangled and raw but welcome all the same. To feel anything right now was a joy. “Of course.” He rubbed his hand through his hair before taking a long swallow of whiskey. He grimaced, but didn’t cough.

“Sadie ran away from you didn’t she?” La Rieux asked after a few seconds silence.

Jack took another drink from his glass. It went down a little smoother this time, but just as warm. “She did. Happy?”

“Hardly. I do not like to see my friends in distress, my lord…Hmm, how very strange to call you that.”

Jack tipped his head. “You’re not joking. Strange to hear it as well.” He took another drink.

“Let me tell you something about Sadie. She was hurt very badly when you left. I don’t tell you this to hurt you, I tell you this because it’s true. Something happened, something even I do not know. But she will not jump into your arms because you are titled again.
Mon Dieu
, in fact, she will run all the faster for it.”

He nodded glumly. “She’s always been that way.”

“She doesn’t see her own worth.” La Rieux’s tone was incredulous. “But, she cares for you. Why, I don’t know. So, if you want her, you must make her see that worth.
You must make her trust you again. You must make her realize that the two of you, as much as it pains me to say, were made for one another.”

How the hell would he do that? “Why are you telling me all of this?”

La Rieux raised her glass. “Because I feel sorry for you, you poor bastard.”

Jack raised his glass as well. “That makes two of us.”

The Duchess of Ryeton was indeed pregnant—at least that’s what the leaves said. Intuition told Sadie that it was a boy, a fact that put a huge smile on the young duchess’s face. A big hurrah for the all-important male heir, Sadie thought a little bitterly. Would the duchess have been this excited about a girl?

It was unfair of her, of course. Her Grace had never been anything but sweet to her, even friendly. She and her husband did all they could to put her at ease. It was Sadie who was making all kinds of judgments. Sadie who watched everything her hostess did and made some internal comment upon it. Really, she was quite ashamed of herself by the time the reading came to an end.

“Had you any idea that Mr. Friday was really Viscount Gerard?” The duchess asked, helping herself to a third cake.

Sadie was tempted—very much so—to reply that yes she had, and that she’d known for years as the two of them were man and wife. She wanted this woman—every woman in London for that matter—to know that Jack was hers.

But she shook her head instead. “No. I did not. We were not that intimately acquainted.” The lie did not trip quite so easily off her tongue.

The duchess shot her a pointed, but teasing look. “I’m not sure I believe you, Madame Moon. But I don’t blame you for keeping your own counsel. It’s so difficult to know who one can trust in this town.”

“I meant no offense, Your Grace.”

Full pink lips curved into a wide grin. “None taken! My lord, you’ll have to do better than that to offend me. But now that we’re on the topic of the viscount and intimacy, I suppose he’ll be looking for a wife.”

Sadie’s stomach twisted. “I suppose so.”

“How would you feel about becoming a viscountess?”

Color filled Sadie’s cheeks. “Your Grace, I have no ambition of the sort!”

“Well you should. I’ve seen how the man looks at you.”

“A viscount could never marry a mere nobody.”

“It’s been my experience, my dear, that a duke, marquess, and, yes, even a viscount can do whatever the hell he wants. Pardon my language.”

Sadie blinked. “I’m certain his lordship will succumb to his grandfather’s wishes.”

“Succumb.” The duchess inclined her head ever so slightly. “What an interesting choice of words.”

Much more of this and Sadie was going to start squirming. She felt as though the duchess was peering straight into her soul, seeing every lie and subterfuge. “Regardless,
ma’am, I have not had an offer from the viscount, nor do I expect one.”
Liar
.

“Oh? Did your leaves tell you that?”

“It’s bad luck to read one’s leaves.”

“Really?” The younger woman held out her hand. “Then let me read yours.”

Dumbfounded, Sadie stared at her. “Do you know how to read leaves?”

“No.” Her Grace licked a spot of frosting from her thumb. “But surely you can tell me what the images mean?”

“It’s more than just images, it’s the feelings one gets from them.”

The duchess shrugged. “I can interpret my own feelings. Indulge me, please. Once you depart, I will have nothing else to do but play with the dogs.”

Certain it would be the height of bad manners, and possibly bad for business to refuse, Sadie agreed. Besides, once she returned the Earl of Garret’s investment to him, she was going to have to work all the harder to come up with enough money to open her own shop.

There was no way she was going to keep the old man’s money after the stunt he pulled the night before. Not even she had the stomach—the
practicality
—for that.

She had already finished her own tea, so she turned the cup upside down on the saucer and turned it three times widdershins while her mind dwelled on Jack and the look on his face when she’d left him last night. If she hadn’t known better, she’d swear she’d broken his heart. No doubt her refusal hurt him, but he would rally
again when eager mamas began shoving their daughters at him. She had to believe that. Had to.

She handed the cup to the duchess. “Tell me what you see.”

The other woman peered into the almost translucent china. “I see a harp. With a circle around it.”

Sadie stilled. “Are you certain it’s a harp?”

“I may be new at this, but it looks like one to me.” Lady Ryeton turned the cup so she could look inside. “See it?”

Indeed there it was, plain as day, a harp surrounded by an almost perfect ring of leaves near the top of the cup, which indicated it would happen soon.

“What does that mean?” Her Grace asked.

Sadie swallowed. “A harp signifies love while a circle means completion, or something coming full circle.”

The duchess smiled again, lighting up her entire face. “So you’ll experience completion through love, or a love coming full circle?”

“Something like that,” Sadie murmured, heart pounding. Though how much belief could she put in the leaves when they were being read by someone with no experience, no gift for them?

But she’d seen it herself.

And who was she to say that the duchess hadn’t the gift of sight? What kind of hypocrite would she be if suddenly she threw aside her belief in this ancient practice simply because she was terrified the leaves might be right?

“I see an hourglass.”

Sadie nodded, pulling herself together enough to focus
on what the duchess said and remember the meaning. “The need to make a decision.”

“And an…owl?”

“Gossip, more generally people talking.”

“So, people are going to be talking about you? In London?
Quelle surprise!
”

Sadie tried to join in her light laughter, but her heart was stuck quite firmly in her throat, so much so that she thought she might choke on the lump there. People were going to talk. There was a decision she would need to make. A decision about Jack?

“There’s a shoe in here as well. Does that mean you’ll go shopping?”

Lips trembling, Sadie forced a smile. “Is it near the hourglass?”

“Yes! What does it signify?”

“That the decision I make will lead to a change for the better.”

Dark eyes sparkled with pleasure as a bright smile curved full pink lips. Such a pretty woman, Her Grace was. “Ohhh. I’m quite good at this, aren’t I?”

Sadie nodded. “You are indeed. Is that all you see?” Inside she prayed for that to be all.

The duchess held up her free hand. “Wait, there’s something else. I see a…wedding!”

Frowning, Sadie reached out to take the cup. “That can’t be right.” No one ever just sees a wedding, especially not someone inexperienced with leaves and all their subtleties. But when she took the cup and looked inside, she saw—down near the bottom—what was clearly a
man and a woman standing side by side and the woman was wearing what looked like a veil.

One look at the man and she knew in her heart it was Jack, but she couldn’t get a clear feeling for the bride. Jack was going to marry, and as much as her heart swelled with hope, she knew the bride could not be her. Her decision was to let Jack go, and it was definitely best for everyone, so the woman in the cup was someone else.

“Very good,” she praised Lady Ryeton as she set the cup on its saucer. Her shaking fingers made the two clatter loudly before she jerked her hand away and all was silent. “If I ever need a partner, I know who to enlist.”

If anything, the duchess’s grin broadened—something Sadie would have thought impossible. Honestly, the woman had so many teeth! And all of them very lovely. “Wouldn’t that give the gossips something to go on about? The Duchess of Ryeton turns fortune-teller. You should not have put the idea in my head, Madame Moon, for now I’m tempted to do it!”

Her amusement was infectious. “I wish I had your spirit, Your Grace.”

The duchess waved an airy hand. “Perhaps I should have spoke clearer earlier. Not only may a duke or viscount do as he wishes but, my friend, so might a duchess or a viscountess. Otherwise, what’s the use of having money and a title? I believe it’s my duty to give the papers gossip to print. I’m doing my part to create employment.”

Sadie genuinely laughed at that, her estimation of the duchess rising higher and higher.

Unfortunately, it was time for her to take her leave,
so she congratulated the duchess once again on her pregnancy, and asked for her to confirm it as soon as she could. She also promised to keep the news to herself until it was made public. And then, armed with one of her journals, she set off to visit another house in Mayfair. This one much smaller than the Duke of Ryeton’s, but still every bit as grand as the neighborhood demanded.

A stooped butler answered the door and took her card. Then he made her wait in a small but pretty sitting room as he went off to find his mistress. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Madame Moon.” Lady Gosling sounded surprised to see her. “Or should I say, Lady Gerard?”

Sadie watched the elegant woman as she glided into the room as though making an entrance on a stage. Although, she supposed that was appropriate. “Mrs. Moon will be fine, unless of course, you wish for me to refer to you as Theone Divine? That was your stage name, was it not? That’s what it says on the playbill I found in an old trunk I have. A lovely likeness of you too.”

Lady Gosling paused for a moment before seating herself next to Sadie on the sofa. “Well, well. Kitten has claws after all.”

It took all of Sadie’s willpower not to roll her eyes at the foolish comparison. “What I have, Lady Gosling, is a desire to keep my private life private, the same as you. I’m sure you wouldn’t want society to find out that you’re no more of a lady than I am.”

Lady Gosling studied her, a peculiarly bemused expres
sion on her face. “But you are technically a viscountess, are you not? If I think I am more of a lady than you, it is because I deserve this life. I want this life. You think you’re better than me, better than anyone with a title because you claim you don’t
want
it.”

Sadie wrinkled her brow. “I don’t think I’m better than anyone, but you’re right—I don’t want the kind of life you have.”

“Not even if that means losing Jack?”

She said nothing, because she was afraid she might open her mouth and the wrong answer would come out.

Lady Gosling clucked her tongue. “Are you a snob or just afraid that you won’t be able to live up to expectations?”

“Not all of us are such talented actresses, my lady. I don’t pretend well.”

Her companion rolled her eyes. “Please. You’ve pretended to be a widow for years. You pretended not to know your own husband, a feat I wish I could achieve. You could easily become part of this world if you desired. What I don’t understand is why you don’t want it.”

Shaking her head, Sadie set her ledger on her lap. “That doesn’t matter, and I’m certainly not going to discuss it with you. Promise me you’ll leave Jack alone and I promise you the world will never hear of your secret from my lips.”

“My dear woman, you needn’t have gone to all this trouble to ensure my silence. It’s not exactly good
ton
to blackmail a peer of the realm. In fact, it’s frowned
upon. Had I known his true identity in the beginning, I should have been wise enough to keep his lordship’s—and your—secrets.”

How could she treat this so lightly? “So you’re not going to extort money from Jack?”

The lady sighed. “I suppose not, if you must know.”

This was unexpected. Sadie regarded her narrowly. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand you, Lady Gosling.”