Secret Brides [3] Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage Page 2

  “So, Lord Medford, what do you think?” Annie asked. “Based on your acquaintance with the Duchess of Markingham, is she an evil murderess or an unfortunate innocent?”

  James folded the paper in half. “As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter either way. The fact is, the ton is vying for details of the story and what better details could one possibly gather than those that came directly from the lady herself? Scandal is my trade. Regardless of her guilt or innocence, I want the duchess to write for me. Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage will be immensely popular.”

  Lily sighed. “Once again, you’re being flippant.”

  “On the contrary,” James replied, tossing the paper aside and straightening his already straight cravat. “I am merely attempting to provide the public with what it desperately wants, a pamphlet written by the Duchess of Markingham. There has been nothing like this scandal to set the town on its ear since … ever. People want to read about the details. Sorry to say, but even Secrets of a Wedding Night and Secrets of a Runaway Bride weren’t as popular as this stands to be,” he said, referring to the pamphlets the two sisters had written for him earlier in the year when they’d both been involved in their own adventures.

  Lily rolled her eyes at him. “That’s not my point and you know it. Those pamphlets were written anonymously. This will be entirely different. Everyone will know the duchess wrote it, if she agrees to, that is. She’s involved in enough scandal as it is without adding a tell-all pamphlet to the list. Personally, I think she should refuse you.”

  “That’s not very loyal of you, my lady,” James pointed out, still grinning.

  Annie took another sip of her tea, then bit her lip. “I’m not sure what to think. If the duchess really does have a story to tell, the pamphlet may help her with regard to public opinion. But, if she is guilty…” Annie winced. “I cannot imagine she’d agree to write it, however, if that were the case.”

  James stretched his legs in front of him and crossed his feet at the ankles. “Either way, the decision is up to the duchess. She intends to give me her answer today, and I’ve every expectation she’ll say yes.”

  “What makes you so certain?” Lily made her way toward the fireplace where she warmed her hands and looked back over her shoulder at James.

  He flashed a grin at her. “Why, because I’ve offered her an indecent amount of money.”

  Annie leaned forward, her dark eyes sparkling. “How indecent?”

  “Sufficiently indecent,” he replied with a wink.

  Lily tossed a hand in the air. “What good will money do a woman who’s sentenced to death?”

  “Quite right.” Annie nodded, shuddering.

  “It shall help pay for her defense for one thing,” James replied. “If she’s wise she’ll hire a Bow Street runner to investigate the case separately from the official investigation. Now, come sit down,” he said to Lily. “Speaking of indecent, I’ve put an indecent amount of cream in your teacup and we all know how much you love cream.”

  Annie laughed. “That’s true. She’s like a cat.”

  Lily turned away from the fire and hurried over to join them. “The fact that the duchess didn’t already take the offer makes me think she intends to turn it down.”

  “Nonsense.” James pushed Lily’s teacup toward her. “She wanted to consider my offer, that’s all. She’d be a fool to refuse it.”

  “She’s a duchess. She’s already rich,” Annie pointed out, slyly pulling a teacake from the little porcelain plate in the center of the table.

  James arched a brow. “Her husband’s assets have been seized by the courts until the trial is finished. She has no access to his money, and I sincerely doubt her mother-in-law is in much of a generous mood at present.”

  “If she’s innocent, Medford, we expect you to help her,” Lily said.

  “Help her? What do I have to do with it?”

  Lily gave him a small smile. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to, James. We happen to know you have a soft spot for damsels in distress.” She gave her sister a conspiratorial grin.

  James pursed his lips. “There’s no chance of that happening here. I intend to keep my business with her entirely secret … and entirely business.”

  “But if you learn she’s not guilty, you’ll help her. I know you will,” Annie added, leaning over and patting his hand.

  James shrugged. “I don’t know whether she’s guilty, and to be honest, I don’t much care. All I know is her story will sell pamphlets.”

  “And that’s all that matters to you?” Annie asked, a frown on her face. “Selling pamphlets?”

  “Of course not,” James replied with a grin. “I intend to sell a great many pamphlets.”

  Lily rolled her eyes at him again. “But what if the duchess is innocent?”

  “I’m giving her a chance to tell her story, aren’t I? Besides, it’s not as if I pulled the trigger and shot her husband, nor did I accuse her of doing so. This entire situation was already well made before I ever got wind of it.”

  “But how can you be so nonchalant when an innocent woman may be sentenced to die?” Annie had left half of her teacake on her plate, a sure sign she was thoroughly distracted.

  “You don’t fool me for one moment, James Bancroft,” Lily interjected. “I give you one week of dealing with the duchess before you’re assisting with her defense.”

  James shook his head. “Now that is utter nonsense. I draw the line at aiding a murderess.”

  “But you don’t know for certain that she is a murderess,” Annie pointed out, brushing crumbs from her skirts.

  James stood up and tossed his napkin on the table. “Indeed, I hope the truth will out, for the duchess’s sake. Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies. I have a prisoner to visit.”

  CHAPTER 3

  This time when she was led into the small, cold room in the Tower, the duchess greeted James with something of a curious smile on her face.

  “Good morning, your grace.” He bowed over the delicate hand she presented him. No. He hadn’t been imagining it before. She was ethereal.

  “My lord,” she replied in an unhurried tone.

  James was once again captivated by her startling beauty. No wonder Markingham had married her. The man must have snapped her up the moment he’d laid eyes on her. James didn’t blame him. But, alas, the duke obviously didn’t realize what marriage had in store for him.

  “I trust you slept well,” James said, wondering why his stomach was in a knot around this woman. He was never nervous. Ever. It was a singularly unique experience for him. He watched her closely as if her countenance would give a clue as to why his heart beat a bit faster in her presence.

  The edges of the duchess’s mouth turned up in the hint of a smile, and James was immediately reminded of how different she was. She was supposed to be all refinement and perfection but instead she had a sort of realness to her that drew him in. Made him want to see what she would do or say next. She was … captivating. That was it. That was what he was responding to.

  She tugged on her shawl. “I never sleep well in this place.” She gestured with her chin to the stone walls surrounding them. “It’s freezing and not particularly comfortable, as you might imagine.”

  James furrowed his brow. His voice deepened. “Are they treating you ill?”

  “No, of course not. They’re treating me with all the respect due my illustrious title.” She nearly spat the last two words.

  James motioned for her to sit and he waited until she’d done so before he took a seat across the table from her. “You don’t enjoy being a duchess?”

  Her bright blue eyes pinned him. “Enjoy it? What has being a duchess ever brought me? A loveless marriage, a lonely existence, and now a death sentence.” She laughed a humorless laugh.

  James ducked his head. For a moment he felt a twinge of regret for her. Regret and a bit of guilt. Here he was, attempting to profit from her situation. If she were innocent. But that was a very large if. Fo
r if she had indeed killed her husband, James had no reason to feel sorry for her. After all, it was possible that she was just angry that she’d been caught. Regardless, it did little good to discuss the details with her. She’d have the opportunity to put whatever she wanted into the pamphlet. Once she agreed to write it, that was.

  It was time to discuss business.

  He cleared his throat. “Have you made your decision, your grace? Will you write for me?”

  She watched him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re very direct, my lord.” She raised a perfect golden-red brow.

  James nudged at his cravat. Was it hot in the room all of a sudden? “I’m not sure there is much else left to say.”

  “Locked in the Tower,” she murmured, a faraway look in her eyes. “Not something I ever expected when I was growing up on a farm.” With one fingertip, she traced a pattern on the rough-hewn tabletop. Her voice was tight. “Life is unexpected sometimes, is it not, my lord?”

  He nodded. “Indeed.”

  Expelling a long breath, she stood and paced to the window, arms folded over her chest. She glanced out. “There.” She motioned with her chin. “There is the lawn upon which Anne Boleyn lost her head.” She turned to face James who looked at her with narrowed eyes. What was she getting at?

  “And what was Queen Anne’s crime?” she continued.

  “Adultery,” he answered. “Treason.”

  Kate’s head snapped around to face him. “Ah yes, treason, or so said her husband, the one with the power, the one who made the laws. She was brought through Traitor’s Gate and put to death, the mother of the future queen, and all for failing to make her husband happy.”

  James stood and cleared his throat again. “Anne Boleyn was not accused of murdering King Henry.”

  Kate turned on him with flashing eyes. “’Tis true, though not the best way to win my favor, my lord. Tell me again why you think I should agree to your offer. A dead woman needs no money, you know?”

  He relaxed his stance a bit. “No, but a woman who is on trial for her life needs the best defense she can afford and the opportunity to tell the public her side of the story, which is priceless. Writing the pamphlet will provide you with that opportunity.”

  “Do you think I’m innocent, then?” she challenged him, drumming her fingertips along her opposite elbows.

  He met her gaze directly. “That I do not know.”

  “Then why provide me with the opportunity to state my case?”

  “Every accused person deserves as much, do they not?”

  She tossed a hand in the air. “I’ll have my day in court, and the papers will cover every bit of it.”

  “True, but the papers will only cover what your barrister will allow you to say in court. The pamphlet can contain whatever you choose.”

  She arched another brow at him and scoured him with those arresting eyes. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

  “You’ll do it?” James pulled a set of folded papers from his inside coat pocket. “I’ve brought the contract.”

  “A contract?” She smiled ever so slightly. “My word isn’t good enough? You don’t trust me?”

  He tossed the papers on the worn wooden tabletop that stood between them. “I always use a contract.”

  She tipped up her chin. “That was a jest, my lord.”

  He turned toward the door. “I’ll ask them to bring a quill and—”

  “Just a moment,” she said, grabbing up the contract with one hand and perusing it. “I haven’t agreed … yet.”

  He turned back to face her. “You plan to refuse?”

  “I haven’t said that either.”

  He bowed. “I await your decision, your grace. Though you should know that if you agree, you’ll be breaking Society’s rules again and the reaction may not be—”

  Her sharp bark of laughter stopped him. “Society’s rules. Bah. What do I care for Society’s rules? Did you know that I’d been planning to ask my husband for a divorce? I’d already accepted my future being ruined by scandal. Besides, I’ve learned a bit about you, my lord. There is a lady here whom I’ve befriended. She knows you. She tells me you are a rule follower yourself, Lord Medford, despite your illicit printing press.”

  He kept his face blank. “Ah, so my reputation precedes me.”

  “I followed the rules my entire life, too,” she continued, “and look where it got me. In a loveless marriage with a death sentence hanging over my head.”

  James glanced away, but for some reason her saying her marriage had been loveless made him feel sad for her although inexplicably pleased for himself. Why was that? It made no sense.

  He shook his head. Regardless, he had to ensure she knew what she was getting into. He’d be no sort of gentleman if he did not explain it to her in detail. “Be that as it may, the pamphlet will have a very wide distribution, and there’s every reason to expect—”

  She regarded the papers again. “As I said, I’m done following rules, my lord.”

  She spent the next few moments reading before she tossed the papers to the tabletop and met his gaze. “I’ll agree, upon two conditions.”

  He watched her face closely, trying to ignore her stunning beauty. This was business. Only business. “Two? What are they?”

  “First, I want you to employ for me the best barrister money can buy.”

  He nodded. “I was expecting such a request. You’ll have the very best. What is your second condition?”

  She straightened her shoulders and faced him head-on. “I may not have long to live, my lord. I know that much. I’m not a fool. I have a matter of months at the most. I’ve spent the last ten years practically a prisoner at my husband’s estate in the country, and now I’m sentenced to death.” She smoothed her hands down her dark skirts. “I may not have much recourse against the charges that have been brought against me, but I can and will choose how I spend my remaining days.”

  “I see, and how do you wish to spend them?” he asked, reminding himself he shouldn’t care what her answer was.

  She moved back over to the window and glanced outside. “I want to do the things that make me happy. Enjoy myself a bit.” She turned her head to face him. “I want to live.”

  James furrowed his brow. Live? “I’m not sure I understand.”

  She whirled around and made her way back to the table where she planted her palms firmly on the top and leaned toward him. “The law allows for me to reside under house arrest as long as I am under the supervision of a peer.”

  James’s gaze shot to her face.

  She squared her shoulders. “I want you to get me out of here.”

  CHAPTER 4

  After Viscount Medford left, Kate collapsed into the wooden chair that sat next to the small table in the room they’d provided as her cell. She let her head drop into her hands and took a deep breath. She was shaking, trembling. Good heavens, how had she ever summoned the nerve to ask Lord Medford to get her out of prison? Yes, he wanted something from her in return, but still, she was taking a gamble. A risky one. If the viscount left and didn’t return, she might have just missed her one chance at telling her side of the story to the masses. Had she been a fool to ask for so much?

  She’d learned what she could about the viscount in the small amount of time she’d had since he first came to visit. There was another lady imprisoned at the Tower, a woman who was to stand trial at the House of Lords for treason. She was accused of being a spy, a supporter of the French. Lady Mary’s trial had been delayed again and again. She’d been in the Tower since before Waterloo. Kate knew only too well how an innocent could be locked away. Lady Mary was the only friend Kate had in the gaol.

  The prisoners were allowed to take walks along the grounds in the afternoon, and this afternoon, Kate had asked Lady Mary what she knew about a certain viscount.

  “They call him Lord Perfect,” Mary had said, a sly grin lighting her ice-blue eyes. “The Lord of All Rule Following. The Viscount of F
lawlessness. And quite a handsome chap, too, if you ask me.” She ended the last part on a wink.

  Kate had hid her smile. A rule follower? She’d keep her promise to Lord Medford. She would not tell Mary about the viscount’s printing press. Obviously, the man enjoyed his pristine image and went to great lengths to protect it. But there had to be a bit of a rule breaker in him if he secretly published scandalous pamphlets. And that is what intrigued Kate the most. She bit her lip.

  But if it were true, if he were a rule follower, she may have pushed him too far with her request for sanctuary. She wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. But the damage was done now. She’d just have to wait for his answer.

  Thankfully, Lord Medford had said he would consider her request and left shortly after, giving Kate a much-needed opportunity to sit. Her legs had turned to water, and her stomach roiled as if she might retch.

  Good God. When had her life turned into this? A nightmare. Was it only ten years ago that she was playing with the animals on her parents’ farm? And now both her mother and father were dead, and she was a miserable twenty-eight-year-old duchess, about to stand trial for her life.

  She rested her head against the wall behind her. Lord Medford had looked surprised when she’d asked him to free her. Even more surprised when she’d indicated the reason why. But Kate had had little else to do in the last several weeks but think, and in that time, she’d come to understand what she truly wanted from the last days of her existence on this earth.

  She was going to fight the charges. Fight them with every bit of strength she possessed. But in the meantime, she intended to live. To truly live. Of course, even if Medford harbored her, she wouldn’t be allowed out in Society, not that she’d ever relished it, but she wanted to eat good food, and sleep on fine sheets, to pet a puppy, and to … dance. Yes. She wanted to dance and dance and dance. She’d gone from her parents’ property to her husband’s and a life greatly unlike what she’d envisioned for herself. Now that she had very little life left, she refused to allow an unfair legal system to take away her last bit of remaining joy. Her husband had never loved her. And she had never loved him. Not really. Oh, she’d thought she had loved him when she’d been the naïve girl who’d married him. But it was obvious nearly from the beginning of their marriage that they did not suit. They quarreled nearly constantly and George always wanted to be out with friends and enjoying sports. He never chose to be at home with Kate, spending time together as a couple. In fact, she’d discovered barely a week into their marriage that he still had a mistress whom he had no intention of relinquishing.