When Marrying a Scoundrel (23 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Smith

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: When Marrying a Scoundrel
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It was impossible. And even if it were possible, she’d be a fool to trust him with her heart again, wouldn’t she? Regardless, Jack would soon have bigger issues to deal with and she would be the last thing on his mind.

It was all just talk. She knew that. It was just her mind’s way of trying to protect her. If the old earl hadn’t shown up, she’d be in Jack’s bed right now, planning some great adventure. But now society was all abuzz with the news of his surprising revelation as a peer of the realm, and everything had changed. It would only be a matter of time before Jack changed as well. A person couldn’t be part of that world and not have it affect them. Lady Gosling was tolerable proof of that. She’d gone from actress to baroness without regret and had the scars to prove it. Sadie supposed Jack had done her a favor by leaving when he had. She’d been too young and naïve to know how the aristocratic world worked. She’d believed their love could conquer anything.

Still, she had to wonder what it would be like to be part
of that world, just as she had wondered all those years ago. To be honest, back then she’d been nothing more than a girl with romantic fantasies of what it would be like to be a grand lady. Yes, she’d been disappointed when the earl had dashed those dreams by disinheriting Jack—something the old man would have since remedied—but a person can’t mourn what was never theirs to lose.

As the old man himself had once said, he’d done her a favor by casting Jack out. Their world would have eaten her alive.

She’d just finished hanging the last of the sweetly fragrant chintz-patterned curtains when the door to the shop burst open.

Jack stood on the threshold, looking so fierce and beautiful with the rain behind him that all she could do was stare.

Was it foolish that her heart stammered at the sight of him? That she wanted to peel the wet clothes from his lovely body and warm the chill from his bones in her bed? He’d come crashing in just like the hero in a gothic romance and she was more than willing to succumb to his every carnal demand.

Yes, that was very foolish indeed, and very tempting.

“Lord Gerard,” she said, slowly stepping down from the chair she’d been perched on. “This is unexpected.”

He made a scoffing noise. “Is it?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Sadie admonished as he closed the door behind him. “People will talk.”

“It’s not a crime for a man to visit his wife.”

He was a dog worrying a bone, dear thing. “Society doesn’t see me as your wife, Jack. They’ll think I’m your mistress.”

His eyes blazed gold with fury. “I don’t give a fuck what they think.”

Sadie swallowed. She wasn’t afraid, but this side of him was one she’d rarely seen before. It was a little intimidating, and somewhat attractive at the same time. “I do. My livelihood depends upon these people hiring me to read their fortunes.”

“Being my wife would solve all that.”

“Being your wife would cause more trouble than it would solve, and you know it. Can we not discuss this right now? Why are you here?”

“I just came from my grandfather’s.”

Sadie straightened, remembering the awful image in Jack’s teacup. “Is he all right?”

He scowled. “Your concern for the old bastard is touching. How much did he give you in exchange for your devotion?”

She frowned as well, and moved toward him so she could look him in the eye. “Don’t be an arse. I offered him nothing but the promise that I’d alert him if you ever returned to London.”

He watched her with narrowed eyes. “And?”

Damn it, he knew her too well. She’d known as soon as her tone changed ever so slightly on “London” that he would know it wasn’t the entire truth. “Along with the proviso that should you return, I stay as far away from
you as possible.” There, she’d told him the complete truth—about that, at any rate.

“I’m surprised he didn’t demand the blunt back after seeing us together at Saint’s Row.”

“It wasn’t much. I doubt he misses it.”

Jack laughed, harsh and sharp. “You sold yourself too cheap, then. No doubt he would have given you a small fortune.”

“He tried. I wouldn’t take it.”

He eyed her strangely, as though he didn’t quite recognize her. Sadie supposed she deserved it. The earl had tried to give her money years before in exchange for leaving Jack and she’d refused. No doubt he was disappointed in her now.

But instead of accusations, he simply asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d written him?”

She could lie and make this so much easier, but truth sprang too readily to her lips. “Because I thought you’d run away again.”

Jack winced. It was the slightest of expressions, but she caught it regardless. “You’ve made a sad habit out of meaning to tell me things long after I should know them.”

“Well, you have a rather nasty habit of disappearing before I can tell you anything.”
Careful
,
old girl. Getting a little too close there
. Her mind was full of that day he left and how she’d felt standing on that dock, wondering if she carried his child inside her. It wasn’t his fault she’d kept silent.

“Fair enough,” he allowed without rancor. “Now, tell me how you managed to rid me of Lady Gosling.”

She waved her hand. “’Twas easy. I went through my ledgers and found notes from a reading I’d done for her some time ago. I’d neglected to impart information that directly affects her current situation. Once I told her what I knew, she was happy to take her claws out of you.”

“What was the information?”

She wasn’t so certain she should tell him. After all, it was Lady Gosling’s privacy she was about to betray. But the woman had been trying to extort money from Jack. “I told her that her husband was going to die soon.”

Silence hung between them, low and taut. Sadie watched as a multitude of emotions played over Jack’s chiseled features. Finally, disbelief won out. “You told her that her husband was going to die?”

Sadie nodded. “I’m rarely ever wrong. Anyway, since she wanted the money to escape him, she decided that there was no longer a need for her to leave England. He’ll be dead within the month.”

She was aware of the weight of his stare, the sheer dumbfounded aspect of it. “I can’t believe it. She didn’t meet with me because you saw her husband’s death? In tea leaves?”

“That’s what I said.” His inability to grasp the fact irked her. He still didn’t believe in her—and he hadn’t even thanked her!

“I’ll be damned.” He chuckled, and looked at her with eyes bright with laughter. “That’s quite the gift you’ve got there, Sadiemoon.” But he was teasing. He didn’t mean
it. He thought she’d pulled a right proper scheme.

“Yes, well…” She looked at the wall as she fought back a sudden urge to cry. “You don’t have to worry about paying her off now.”

“All because of you.” He closed the distance between them. She didn’t protest when he reached for her and pulled her against him, even though his hair was damp and a chill clung to his clothing. And when he kissed her, she allowed it because she didn’t know when, or if, she’d ever get another chance to savor the taste of him or the feel of his lips against hers.

When his fingers moved to cup her breast, she caught them with her own, stopping him.

She pulled away. “We can’t be together, Jack. Not now.”

“Why not?” He honestly looked bewildered, as though he believed that if they shagged enough everything would be all right. It would fix itself. God, he was as infuriating as he was lovely.

“Because,”
she began with a deep breath, “you’re a viscount and I’m a fortune-teller. Because I have no way of knowing if you’ll run off and leave me again. Because we’re not children anymore! Love is not enough.”

“Do you love me?”

“I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you.” She slumped as though defeated. “But I won’t be caught between you and your grandfather again, Jack. I won’t be the weapon you use against him or the pawn he uses against you.”

“You were never—”

“Yes, I was,” she cut him off, her patience all but gone. “He blames me for the wedge between the both of you and you use me to keep it there. You had your problems long before I came along, and you can have them now. Just leave me out of it.”

“Sadie, you can’t just toss away what we have.”

“I’m not. But you can’t build a marriage on it either, Jack. We’ve changed over the years. We’re not the same people anymore. I adore you. I love you, but I don’t know you. Sometimes I don’t think
you
know you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe so. But I don’t know if I can trust you, and you don’t believe in me, and no relationship can last like that.”

“It always comes back to those damn leaves, doesn’t it?”

“No, Jack. It comes back to whether you can accept who I am. It comes back to whether or not you’re done running from who
you
are. But even if you are done, we’re from two different worlds.”

“It worked once.”

“No, it didn’t.” She couldn’t keep the sorrow from her voice. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. It didn’t work, or you wouldn’t have left.”

“I left for us.”

“You left for you!” she shouted. “The only person you ever thought of was you!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, surprised at the force behind the words, and how much resentment had come with them.

Jack looked as though she’d just kicked his dog. He
backed away from her. “I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he murmured hoarsely. “Good-bye, Sadie.”

She wanted to stop him. Wanted to apologize and beg his forgiveness, but she didn’t. She let him go, because she’d meant those awful words and she wouldn’t take them back even if she could.

It was simply best for the both of them if they went off to their respective worlds and found the strength to not look back.

N
ot looking back was more difficult than Sadie thought it would be. Unfortunately, it seemed to be quite easy for Jack as he hadn’t bothered with her again since leaving her shop two days ago.

To be honest, she was disappointed he gave up so easily. What sort of mess was she in that she pushed him away but wanted him to fight her on it? She’d expected—no,
hoped
—he would put up more of a fuss. Yet she’d told him she didn’t want to be with him. That she couldn’t trust him. Accused him of being selfish.

Was it any wonder he hadn’t tried again?

She tried to justify it by reminding herself that he thought her talents a joke. He couldn’t fathom that Lady Gosling would believe her prediction about her husband. But hadn’t he asked her to read his leaves that night at Saint’s Row? And asked again what she’d seen when they’d been sequestered away in Vienne’s little cottage? He might not believe in the leaves, but he was interested in what she saw there.

Or perhaps that was merely wishful thinking on her part.

For now, she contented herself with the distractions Saint’s Row offered. Tonight was a small gathering—a bit of cards and other games of chance in the card room and a lovely soprano with piano accompaniment in the music room. Right now Sadie was in the corner sipping a glass of wine. She found the roulette wheel almost mesmerizing.

“Where is your shadow?” asked a familiar voice.

Sadie jerked her attention away from the spinning wheel just as Vienne came to stand beside her. As always the Frenchwoman looked impeccable in a shimmering gold gown that made her appear to be the very embodiment of fire. “On the wall behind me,” she replied drily.

Vienne smiled. “Ah,
bien
. I refer, of course, to Monsieur Friday, or Lord Gerard as he is now known.”

Sadie took a swallow of crisp wine and rubbed at a tight muscle between her neck and shoulder. She’d leave an unsightly red mark on her bare flesh, but she didn’t care. Her neck was killing her. “I do not know where he is.”

Her friend’s smile faded. “Has he hurt you? Bastard!” And then she began ranting in rapid French under her breath.

Sadie placed a hand on her friend’s arm, torn between laughter and irrational tears. “Vienne, calm yourself. He didn’t do anything. I did.”

Vienne halted midstream and glanced up in surprise. “You ended it?”

She nodded. “I had to.”

“What did he do?”

She laughed, couldn’t help it. It was preferable to weeping. “You’re always so quick to blame the man. Why is that?”

The redhead shrugged. “The man is usually the one at fault in my experience.”

“Not this time. I told Jack it was over between us.”

“Why? You seemed to forgive him so easily and rushed into his arms.” Her face brightened just a little. “Was it all a ploy to make him love you, and then to toss him aside as he did to you?”

“No!” Sadie cried, aghast. “I’d never do such a thing.”

Another shrug. “I would.”

“I ended it because he’s a viscount and I’m a fortune-teller. It will never work for us.”

Vienne crossed one arm over her chest in a lazy fashion, her hand curling around the biceps of her other arm, which was raised, a glass of wine in her hand. “Is that not exactly what the two of you were when you married him? You had no
problème
with it then. What’s changed?”

“We have,” Sadie replied, sharper than she’d intended. “He has responsibilities now. And I…I’ve come to my senses. There’s no place for me in that world.”

The other woman considered that with a tilt of her head and slight purse of her lips. “So, sometime during the last week or so you’ve become older and wiser, is that it?”

“Yes.” If she said it with enough determination perhaps she would eventually make it so.

“I find the heart does not always subscribe to that belief.” Vienne’s shoulders lifted in a prefect Gallic shrug. “It tends to be once a fool, always a fool.”

“How fortunate then that I am not governed by my heart.”

Vienne’s gaze was quick. “My dear friend, I’ve never met anyone more ruled by her emotions than you. Lie to yourself if you must, but do not lie to me.”

Sadie bristled at the chastising tone. “I’m not lying. And really, Vienne, I hardly think you are the correct person to comment on whether or not a person thinks with their heart.”

Arched eyebrows rose. “Because I do not have one?”

Sadie gave her a
don’t be foolish
look. “Because you never allow your heart to enter any decision.”

The other woman laughed—a mockery of joy. “
That
, my friend, is where you are wrong. My heart tries to influence me all the time. I’ve simply learned to do the opposite of whatever it suggests.”

“You are all the better for it, are you not?”

A faraway glint entered her cool gaze. “I’m not certain. I…
Dieu doux!
What is
he
doing here?”

At first, when Sadie followed her friend’s gaze, she though Vienne’s shock was because of Jack, who had just entered the room looking lovelier than a man had the right to. But as her heart skipped a traitorous beat, she realized that Vienne wasn’t looking at Jack. Her wide gaze and flushed cheeks were caused by the man at Jack’s side.

He was perhaps the same height as Jack, no more than
an inch or two shorter. His build was leaner, but he had the straight spine of a man of power. And the easy grin of a charmer. And his eyes…

It was his eyes that ignited Sadie’s recognition. Of course, it had been years since she’d seen the gentleman, but even if she’d never seen him before, the resemblance to his brothers would have betrayed his identity. Trystan Kane had a bright gaze very much like his brother Archer, only a darker blue. And his nose and jaw were very similar to the Duke of Ryeton’s. His hair fell somewhere between the two—just a shade shy of sable, with glints of auburn when the light hit it.

He was a handsome man, not as handsome as Jack, though. But Sadie was surprised at the resentment that rose within her as she watched the two of them. This was the man who had taken Jack away from her. The one person who knew the man Jack had become better than she did.

Who knew him better than she probably ever would.

She hated Trystan Kane.

They were engrossed in conversation with an older gentleman, some lord Sadie didn’t know but had seen often enough here at the club. She thought perhaps he might have been a friend—a special friend—of Vienne’s once upon a time.

Beside her, Vienne was stiff, a far cry from her normal, in-control self. Pale save for dark splotches of crimson on her cheeks, she stared at Trystan Kane with even more intensity than Sadie had. But now, Sadie’s attention had
drifted to Jack, and her feelings, while different, were no less consuming.

He laughed at something one of the men said. She could hear his laughter from where she stood, a rich, unabashed sound that wrapped around her heart and squeezed tight enough to restrict circulation. Her neck bent as her head tilted in contemplation, and she ignored the pain as her stiff muscles protested. She was too busy studying the creases in his cheeks, the lines around his eyes—the genuine happiness in his face as he shared in some secret joke. She used to make him laugh like that, with her silliness. For that matter, he used to make her laugh until she thought she might pee. God, she missed that. She hadn’t realized how much until this very moment. And she felt that loss almost every bit as keenly as she’d felt the absence of their child so many years ago.

Damn, it hurt. So, very, very much that her throat closed and her eyes stung though no tears came. It was too painful for tears.

Jack’s head turned and she unintentionally caught his gaze. The laughter seemed to fall from his expression, replaced by surprised aghast. That’s when Sadie knew that everything she felt was reflected in her own expression, and she jerked herself upright at the same moment she tore her gaze from his.

Stupid of her to reveal so much.

She turned to Vienne, who was still watching Trystan Kane. Her elegant friend actually jumped a little when Kane turned to glance in their direction.

“Merde,”
Vienne muttered a few seconds later. “They’re coming over, aren’t they?”

Sadie sighed, giving in to the inevitable. “Yes.”

Vienne whispered a few more swear words before quickly drawing herself upright. At once, the cool mask was back in place and even Sadie, who had witnessed it, thought perhaps she had imagined her friend’s emotional reaction.

“Madame La Rieux,” Kane said in voice like honey over gravel. “Good evening.”

Was it Sadie’s imagination or was there something of a challenge in the man’s address and the sparkle in his amazing eyes? There was certainly something in how he offered his hand—something gentlemen only did with each other, never with a lady. He was either being very rude, or treating Vienne in the same manner he would any business associate.

Vienne seemed to shove her own hand into his. Sadie imagined the two of them squeezing at each other’s fingers until blood ceased to flow, but neither being smart enough to let go.

“Lord Trystan.” Vienne’s jaw was clenched. “When did you arrive in town?”

The tension between the two was so palatable, Sadie’s heart rate sped up. She raised a questioning gaze to Jack, who looked as amazed as she. He shrugged.

And then he smiled, and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. She smiled back.

“Jack,” said Kane, breaking the spell. “Who is this delightful lady?”

It took a second for Sadie to realize he was referring to her; she’d been distracted by Jack’s sudden frown.

“Sadie Moon, allow me to introduce Lord Trystan Kane, my friend and business partner.”

Out of habit, Sadie offered her hand. “How do you do, Lord Trystan?”

Trystan Kane’s eyes brightened so that they appeared flawless gems in the tan of his face. “The famous Madame Moon! Delighted to make your acquaintance.” He took her hand in his—he’d let go of Vienne, or vice versa—and bent his head to brush a light kiss across the top of her gloved knuckles. “The women of my family sing your praises, madam, and with good reason, I hear. But I’m afraid in their enthusiasm for your abilities they neglected to inform me just how lovely you are.”

Dear Heavens! The man was positively magnetic. Sadie blinked under the onslaught of his charm. In fact, she was rather mortified to think that it might have been more of a fluttering of eyelashes rather than a simple, stoic blink. “Thank you, Lord Trystan. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” He flashed her a grin that could only be described as flirtatious. “Have you been waiting to meet me?”

She had to admire him as a flirt and a charmer. She didn’t take him seriously for a second, suspecting that he was acting this way to annoy Vienne more than anything else. However, she noticed that Jack didn’t seem to like the exchange either, and even though she’d been the one to push Jack away, she couldn’t help but enjoy knowing
he was jealous of her. For too long she believed he’d walked away because he didn’t care; so, discovering that he was possessive of her, filled her with a wonderful warm feeling.

“I have,” she replied coyly. “I’ve heard such
scandalous
things about you, how could I not?”

Surprise flickered in the depths of those incredible eyes, understanding as well. “Indeed? I promise to endeavor to live up to your expectations.”

Suddenly, they’d gone from potential foes to partners in coquetry. He grinned, an expression that made him look very boyish and approachable.

Jack, on the other hand didn’t look amused at all. He was standing there with his chin tipped down, watching the pair of them from beneath lowered brows. Vienne as well looked as though she’d like to knock their heads together.

“I don’t wish to keep you, Lord Trystan,” Vienne ground out. “I’m sure you have other people you wish to speak to.”

“You’re
not keeping me at all, Madame La Rieux,” he replied smoothly, and Sadie saw Vienne stiffen at the thinly veiled insult. “But you are right, there are a few gentlemen here whom I should say hello. Madame Moon, will you excuse me?”

“Of course, my lord. Enjoy the rest of the evening.” She dared glance up at Jack. “Lord Gerard.” How false and strange that title felt on her tongue!

It obviously seemed strange to Jack as well, because
his brow furrowed even deeper, just for a second, before going perfectly smooth once more. “Mrs. Moon. Madame La Rieux.”

The gentlemen bowed and took their leave. The second they were out of earshot, Vienne turned on her. “What in the name of God was that about?” she demanded in a strangled whisper. “You practically threw yourself at him. In front of your own husband!”

Astounded to hear such accusations from her of all people, Sadie turned to her friend. “Me? I didn’t know whether to pin his arms behind his back so you could take a swing, or send you to one of the private rooms.”

“The former,” Vienne replied, her normally smooth tones sounding surprisingly hoarse as much of the tension dissolved from her face. “I’ve no desire to repeat the latter.”

It took that a moment to sink in.
“What?”
Then Sadie lowered her voice: “You slept with Trystan Kane?”

Her friend nodded stiffly. “One of the biggest mistakes of my life, and one of the few times I allowed my emotions to rule my actions. I’ve regretted it ever since.”

“Was…” How best to ask this delicate question? She needed to know the sort of man with whom Jack had aligned himself. “Was he unpleasant?” She meant his temperament, of course.

Vienne met her gaze with a frank and somewhat rueful one. “
Non
. He was the
most
pleasant I’ve ever experienced. That, my dear friend, is why I regret it.” And then she drifted away, off to play hostess with the rest of her
clientele. Her exit left Sadie alone once more, standing in her corner feeling lost and slightly off balance. Just as she had begun the evening.

 

Later that evening, Jack had a few words for Trystan, his friend and business partner. They shared a carriage to the hotel they co-owned, and staggered into the lift together to make the climb to the top floor. He was half pissed, or else he would have kept his mouth shut. As it was, he left Tryst outside his suite at the Barrington with what he called his own bit of “fortune-telling.”

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