Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage Read online

  She nodded. “Yes, absolutely. Please call me Kate.”

  “And you may call me James,” he said, stepping back and executing a bow.

  “Very well. May I ask you a question, James?”

  He grinned at her. “I owe you an answer, I believe.”

  She rested her fingers on the ivory keys of the piano but did not move them. “Why did you bring me here? To your home, I mean. You must own many properties.”

  “I do,” he replied. “Several in fact. Here and in the countryside.”

  She bit her lip. “Then why not place me in one of those houses?”

  James rested his elbows on the back of the pianoforte again. “I couldn’t ensure your safety in my other houses.”

  Her brow immediately furrowed. “You brought me here to keep me safe?”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  She nodded this time, her curls bouncing again, and James had to keep himself from reaching out and touching one of them. The one that rested against her soft cheek. “Yes.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  She shrugged slightly. “I assumed you wanted me here to keep an eye on me. To ensure I don’t run off.”

  He grinned at that. “Do you intend to run off?”

  She shook her head and squared her shoulders. “No. I shall face my fate.”

  James watched her closely. She was telling the truth. He could sense that about her. She would face her fate. He’d thought many things about her since he’d met her but cowardice wasn’t in her. Whatever else her faults might be, Kate Townsende had courage. Real courage. The kind of courage that would face a death sentence. The kind of courage that would stand up to an unkind husband bringing his mistress into her home. The kind of courage that would ask for a divorce and face public censure and ruin in an effort to live an authentic life.

  “When we left the Tower … how did you…?” She cleared her throat. “I saw you salute the guard.”

  He stared off into the dark ballroom. Ah, so she’d noticed that, had she? A keen observer was the duchess. She reminded him a bit of … himself actually. He turned his head back to face her. “When I was very young, just out of university, I bought a commission. I served in the army for two years.

  Kate gasped. “You have no siblings. Your father must have been beside himself with worry.”

  He slid up his hand to cover his mouth and hide his smile. And it seemed the duchess had done a bit of research on him too. Well played.

  “It’s true. I have no siblings. And my father and I, we…” He glanced away and narrowed his eyes in the darkness, searching for the right words. “Suffice it to say we rarely agreed on anything. Including my desire to serve in the army.”

  She pulled her hands away from the keys and rested them in her lap. “I’m … I’m glad you made it out safely.”

  He cracked another grin. “So am I.”

  She returned his smile and then, “One more question,” she said softly.

  James inclined his head. “Yes?”

  “Why do you run a printing press? It cannot be because you need the money.”

  Ah, there was that naïveté again. A woman born into the world of the ton would never mention money so blithely. But Kate was also perceptive. Damned perceptive. “You’re right on that score,” he answered. “It’s not about the money.”

  “Then why?” She’d cocked her head to the side and the glow of the candles against her hair made it look like spun gold. He swallowed. She smelled like strawberries. He wanted to … taste her.

  James groaned and ran his fingers across his face. She’d asked a good question. Why indeed did he run the press? For the challenge? The fun of it? The hint of scandal he’d never allowed himself in his “real” life? All of those answers were true but there was something else. Something he didn’t know the duchess well enough to reveal.

  “Do you relish scandal?” she asked breathlessly.

  “No, actually. Order, rules, truth. Those things have always been important to me. I am a storyteller of sorts. But above all I relish the truth.”

  She glanced away. “But you don’t think I’m telling it.”

  James set his jaw. He couldn’t afford to feel sorry for her. Couldn’t afford to continue to wonder whether she’d actually killed her husband. Lily was right. He had a long history of trying to “fix” everything and Kate was not about to become his new project. Besides, getting close to a woman who had a death sentence on her head was pure folly. He pushed himself away from the pianoforte. “I think, whatever your story, it will sell a great many pamphlets.”

  CHAPTER 12

  James woke the next morning at his usual hour. With the help of his valet, he shaved and dressed. After he returned from his daily bout of fencing at the club, he breakfasted and made his way to his study. Themis followed him. Her tail wagging, she lay on the rug next to him.

  James tried to concentrate on the paperwork on his desk but the scenario from the night before kept replaying itself over and over in his mind.

  Kate had asked him if he’d brought her here to keep an eye on her. Yes, partially, but mostly because he had to ensure she was safe. If the public discovered she was staying in a Mayfair town house, they’d rip the bloody walls down around them, and James would be responsible for her being hurt or possibly killed. He couldn’t allow that. No, keeping her as close to him as possible was the best defense and he intended to do so, right here.

  But there was another reason if he were being honest with himself. One that made him shift in his chair, rather guiltily. Despite what he’d told himself last night, he wanted to be around her to get a sense of whether she was truly innocent. Did she kill Markingham or not? All external evidence indicated that she did. But she seemed so soft and sincere, as if she couldn’t harm a bug. There was something so incongruous about the woman herself and the charges that had been brought against her.

  James tossed his quill onto the desk and scrubbed his hands across his face. And why was he so bloody attracted to her? He’d lived the life of a monk. True, he’d had the occasional liaison here and there with a discreet widow, but he was hardly a profligate. He prided himself on being discerning. Meaningless intimate encounters didn’t interest him. And love had hardly been anything he’d been interested in either. He was a confirmed bachelor. But bachelor or no, Kate was making him feel things that had been dormant for … too long. Much too long. And it was entirely inappropriate. Good God, the woman had just lost her husband and was accused of murder. She should not be forced to endure James’s unwanted attentions. How many times had he stopped himself from reaching out and touching her hair last night? Not to mention her smell, a mixture of strawberries and soap … was slowly driving him mad every time he was in her presence. No. He’d keep his hands to himself, however difficult that proved to be. He was a gentleman after all. He couldn’t help his physical reaction to her, but he could bloody well help whether he acted upon that attraction, and he had absolutely no intention of doing so.

  A sharp rap sounded at the door and James glanced up. Themis did too.

  Locke entered and bowed to James. “My lord, two callers have arrived.”

  James clenched his jaw. Callers? Who? He must keep Kate’s presence in the house a secret. Where was she? He must speak with Mrs. Hartsmeade about ensuring that Kate would not be seen when visitors arrived.

  “The Marchioness of Colton and the Countess of Ashbourne are here,” Locke’s deep voice intoned.

  James let his shoulders relax. Lily and Annie? Nothing to worry about. “Tell them I’ll be there shortly.”

  The butler cleared his throat. “They are not here to see you, my lord.”

  James looked twice, his brow furrowed. “Not here to see me?”

  “No. They are here to see her grace.”

  James leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “They are, are they?”

  Locke gave a curt nod. “Yes, they insist upon it.”

  James shook his head. Lily and
Annie were incorrigible. Only they would have the nerve to call upon a prisoner in a house where she wasn’t even supposed to be. “By all means, show them to one of the salons and notify her grace.”

  * * *

  Kate made her way to the blue salon, her palms sweaty and her heart racing. She stood outside the door and took a deep breath. She was about to meet with peeresses, ladies of the social class with whom she should have been rubbing elbows for years. Instead, the only peeress she’d ever met was her husband’s mother, and that lady had detested Kate on sight. Oh, and Lady Bettina. And a more awful woman Kate had never known. Kate pushed her hands down her skirts in an attempt to dry her palms and quell her nerves. Hopefully the Marchioness of Colton and the Countess of Ashbourne were not as awful and high-handed as her mother-in-law had always been or as haughty and cold as Lady Bettina.

  James had told her that these two ladies were close friends of his, and they knew Kate was staying with him. Apparently, he trusted them completely. But could she? Were they only here to stare at her? Would they take jibes at her? Ask her why she insisted upon putting their friend’s home and life in danger?

  Very well. There was no help for it. If these two were going to ridicule her, she might as well step inside and get it over with.

  She reached out a trembling hand, pushed open the door handle, and stepped inside. Two young women sat on the settee in the middle of the room, chatting to each other and laughing. As soon as Kate stepped inside, they both immediately stopped talking and looked up at her.

  “Why, your grace,” the older of the two—who was a breathtaking beauty—said, plunking her hands on her hips. “There you are.”

  Kate blinked. She wasn’t sure how to react. The lady’s voice had been friendly enough, but Kate still wasn’t sure if these two were allies or foes.

  “Come sit,” the lady continued. “It’s insufferably rude of Medford not to be here to introduce us and surprising, to be sure, because usually the man is so prompt. He didn’t earn the moniker Lord Perfect for nothing.” The beauty winked at Kate, and this time there was no mistaking. Whoever she was, she was friendly indeed. “But come and we shall introduce ourselves and have a much better time chatting together than we’d have with a stuffy old viscount around.”

  She stood and held out her hands to Kate, and Kate made her way forward. “Officially, I am the Marchioness of Colton,” the lady said. “But you must call me Lily.” Another wink and Kate expelled her breath. Oh, how wonderful. They would not stand on ceremony. There would be no “your graces” here.

  “And this is my sister, the Countess of Ashbourne,” Lily continued.

  The younger woman stood, reached out, and squeezed Kate’s hand too in a terribly friendly gesture. “Just call me Annie, please,” she said. Annie was nearly as pretty as her sister with dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. Both ladies were so the opposite of what Kate had expected, she wanted to sigh with relief. Instead, she became exceedingly conscious of the fact that she hadn’t said anything yet and the two lovely sisters were staring at her with expectant looks upon their faces.

  “I … I’m Kate.” Ooh. She should have been a bit more formal. She pinched the inside of her arm. “Please do not call me ‘your grace,’” she blurted next, and her fear that the sisters would think she was mad was quickly dispelled when both of them smiled widely at her. “Absolutely not. We wouldn’t think of it,” Lily said. “Now, come and sit.” Lily motioned to the settee.

  Annie leaned over and said in a conspiratorial voice, “Locke is bringing tea and cakes, and I’ll let you in on a secret if you have not already discovered it yourself. Medford has the best teacakes.”

  Kate didn’t bother trying to hide her smile. Peeresses who seemed as devoted to teacakes as she? Oh yes, Kate could become friends with these two ladies, she was quite sure of it.

  “It’s very nice to meet you both,” Kate murmured, hoping she didn’t sound like a fool.

  “We want you to know right away,” Lily said, “that we do not for one moment think you are guilty. I had the, ahem, misfortune of meeting your husband and I have to believe there were a great number of people who wished him dead.”

  Kate bit her lip and did her best to hide her smile. “I see. Thank you for that.”

  “But I must ask, my dear,” Lily continued. “Is it true you’d asked him for a divorce?”

  Kate took a deep breath. There was something about these two, their openness and friendly demeanors, that made her feel safe answering the question. “Yes. I’m afraid so. Ours was a very unhappy marriage.”

  Lily watched her with sympathetic violet eyes. “It must have been truly awful for you.”

  Kate let out a sigh of relief. Two peeresses who would not censure her for wanting a scandalous divorce either? The sisters truly were special.

  “Well, I don’t blame you,” Annie said. “We’re quite happy that you’ll have an opportunity to write your story for Medford.”

  Kate’s eyes went wide. “You know about Lord Medford’s printing press?” She wanted to kick herself again for asking the question. Of course they must know, why else would they think she was here? But the question had just flown from her mouth.

  “Oh, we’ve known for quite some time,” Lily replied with a wink.

  “And you’re not…” Kate lowered her voice. “Scandalized by it?”

  “Oh, certainly not,” Lily replied with a laugh and a quick shake of her dark head.

  Annie laughed too. “Oh, now we shall be forced to tell her our secrets, Lily.”

  Kate looked back and forth between the two of them, knowing her eyes must be wide as the teacakes. “Your secrets?”

  Lily gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Yes. You see, you happen to be sitting next to the authors of Secrets of a Wedding Night and Secrets of a Runaway Bride.”

  “No!” Kate’s mouth fell open. She clapped a hand over it.

  Annie’s face wore a catlike smile. She nodded resolutely. “Yes.”

  Lily settled into the settee and kicked out her legs in front of her, in what Kate assumed was a most unmarchionesslike style. “Guilty. So you see, you are about to join our illustrious club. Although our pamphlets were anonymous of course,” she finished with another wink.

  “I promise not to tell anyone it was you,” Kate said. How marvelous that these ladies were so open and friendly with her, trusting her with their secrets so completely. It seemed too much to hope for, really.

  “I must say, I’m a bit surprised,” Kate murmured.

  “Whatever for?” Annie asked.

  “James…” She cleared her throat. “Lord Medford doesn’t seem entirely convinced of my innocence, but both of you—”

  Lily tossed a hand in the air. “Oh, ignore Medford. He fancies himself a businessman. And we don’t always see eye to eye. Knowing Medford, I’m surprised he hasn’t taken over your defense himself and seen to it that you’re acquitted by now.”

  Kate’s blush heated her face. Lily must have noticed it. “He has, hasn’t he?” she asked, plunking her hands on her hips again.

  Kate bit her lip and nodded. “Mr. Abernathy, the barrister, was here, at Lord Medford’s request.”

  Annie nodded. “Now that sounds like our Medford.”

  “Yes,” Lily agreed. “He’s a fixer. Always putting things to rights. It’s just in him. He cannot help but rescue a damsel in distress.”

  Kate shook her head. “Oh, but he’s not trying to save me … really. He just wants his pamphlet and—”

  “Do not believe that for one moment,” Lily replied. “First of all, look at you, you’re absolutely breathtaking, and secondly, Medford may seem calculating, but he isn’t. Not at all. He couldn’t be if he wanted to. He’ll do anything in his power to help you, Kate. Truly.”

  Kate couldn’t help her blush again. The marchioness had called her breathtaking. And coming from a lady who looked much like a goddess herself, that was a true compliment. But Kate wasn’t about to argue with Lord Medf
ord’s close friend about his intentions. He’d made it clear that the pamphlet was all he wanted from her and she clearly had a much different relationship with him than his friends did, which stood to reason, of course.

  Locke carried in the tea tray just then and Annie clapped her hands, changing the subject. “Oh good. Cakes!”

  They waited for Locke to slide the tray onto the low table in front of them, serve the tea, and retreat from the room before Lily spoke again. She turned to Kate. “So, Medford tells us that you want to enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

  Kate gulped. When she put it that way, it sounded positively indecent. Oh, how could these ladies think she wasn’t guilty if she was such an awful wife that she wanted to enjoy herself while her husband lay dead in the ground? “You mustn’t think badly of me for saying that,” Kate answered. “It’s just that … I may not have much time left.” Her voice trailed off for a bit and then she said softly, “It’s complicated.”

  “Oh, we don’t judge you. Not one bit,” Lily replied. She reached over and placed a hand over Kate’s and squeezed. “I cannot imagine how difficult it must be for you. How frightening. Besides, I was once a widow with very few choices. I know how difficult it can be for a woman in our Society. I could never judge you.”

  “Thank you for that,” Kate replied, swallowing the lump that had unexpectedly formed in her throat.

  Annie delicately picked up a cake from the silver tea tray and dropped it onto her saucer. “Tell us. What is it that you wish to do, Kate? What is your fondest dream?”

  Kate plucked a cake from the tray too, then she laughed. “Oh, I fear you’d think me quite silly if I told you.”

  “Oh, please do,” Annie replied with a conspiratorial grin just before taking a sip of her tea. “I am ever so fond of silliness.”

  “Yes, tell us,” Lily prompted, swiping a teacake of her own. “You wouldn’t believe the silliness the two of us can get up to if given half the chance.” She motioned toward Annie.

  Kate smiled at that. The sisters seemed like such lovely ladies. They would have been the types of women she could well have been friendly with had she been a part of the world her husband had inhabited. If things, everything, had been different. As it was she wouldn’t know them very long. She shook her head and swallowed the second lump that formed in her throat over that thought. She pressed her lips together and faced the marchioness and the countess. “Very well. The truth is, I should like very much to visit a farm.”