The Other Wife (The Dunne Family Series Book 3)

by Chasity Bowlin

  Aurora reached for her cup and sipped her chocolate while she considered her answer. “The duke and I had a misunderstanding, but that has since been cleared away. We are both on better footing with one another now and our common ground is you. Or, rather, you and Mr. St. James.”

  “Stephan and I?” Helen queried. “But I thought you advised me to limit my attachment to him.”

  Setting her cup down, Aurora sighed heavily. “I think that would be the wisest course of action, but I also recognize that it is far too late. I think any parting between the two of you will cause significant pain on both sides. But I also recognize that this is not a new friendship between you. In fact, I daresay it is well established. Helen, be truthful, how long have you been keeping company with Mr. St. James?”

  Helen’s shoulders sank and she tipped her head back, looking heavenward. When she began to speak, her words tumbled out rapidly. “It’s been almost a year. We met at a fair when I was in the countryside, and we’ve been writing to one another since. And, oh, Auntie Aurora, his letters! He's so romantic and so devoted, and I haven’t wanted to lie but I also knew I couldn’t tell anyone. And if Papa finds out, he’ll challenge Mr. St. James to a duel, and I couldn’t bear for anything to happen to him! You won’t tell?”

  “I won’t tell. I don’t like that you’re keeping secrets… And that had better be the only secret you are keeping!”

  Helen nodded eagerly. “It is. I swear it!”

  “It isn’t right that your Papa is dictating who you can be courted by. Well, it would be if he had your best interests at heart or if Mr. St. James were some sort of villain. But that is not the case. He’s a sweet boy, from a good family, with modest but respectable prospects and he adores you… But it will never be enough.”

  Helen leaned forward, her desperation palpable. “If you spoke to Papa—”

  “No!” Aurora refused. The very idea of it had her shuddering with distaste. That would only spur her brother to action. “That would only make it worse. Your father holds a poor opinion of me, primarily because I am no longer in his control. We both know your father will match you with the husband he feels is most advantageous for the family and your feelings will never be considered. I cannot countenance that. And while I cannot promise that there is a happy ending for you and Mr. St. James, I can promise, with the duke’s aid, to provide a scandalous distraction that should have everyone focused so completely on the two of us that you and Mr. St. James may continue your infatuation unimpeded—but chastely! I mean that, Helen! You’ve no notion of what the consequences might be if you allow him to take liberties.”

  “I do know!” Helen said. “My maid told me everything. Is that really how it happens?”

  Aurora sipped her chocolate once more. “We are not having that conversation. Not today. Not ever if I can help it. I have to go out this afternoon. You will not entertain Mr. St. James here in the house, but if you choose to walk in the park with a maid and he should happen to be there, it is fine. So long as you stay on the path and in sight of others.”

  “Speaking of staying on the path,” Helen said with a grin, “can we go to Vauxhall?”

  “I’ll consider it. I’ve courted enough scandal for both of us,” Aurora said. “Now, eat your breakfast. I have some errands to attend to.”

  With that, Aurora rose and left the breakfast room. She made for the small morning room that she used as a study and seated herself at the writing desk there that faced out into the garden. It was a decidedly feminine room, finished in shades of cream and pink and deep rose. The furniture was all very delicate and heavily inlaid with gold and mother of pearl. It was her bastion, her space away from the rest of the world.

  On the desk, she found her correspondence from the morning. There was a letter from Will’s schoolmaster. That was never good. Opening the missive, she read it quickly and then added another chore to her list of things to do that day. A quick trip to Eton and a scolding for Will should do the trick.

  It hadn’t been her wish for him to go away to school. She had wanted him to stay home for longer, with a tutor or governess, but he was a bright boy and understood the way of things perhaps better than she did. Boys of their class, by age ten, boarded at school with their peers. It was simply how things were done. And while she might have wished to keep him small, to snuggle him close to her and treat him like he was still a very small boy, that was not what he needed at that time. He needed to be at school with his peers, building the sort of relationships that would serve him later in life. If he appeared to be a missish young man, forever tied to his mother’s apron strings, then it would make his adult life very difficult in society to be sure.

  A note was composed to be sent back to the headmaster informing him of her plan to visit that day. She rang for a servant to have it delivered by special messenger. Another note was also sent out, this one to the dressmaker Madame de Roussard. The woman was no more French than Aurora herself was, but she played the game and pretended in order to appease a clientele that was hungry for all things French.

  There was a set of rooms above Madame de Roussard’s shop that Aurora had kept rented for herself so that she and Algernon might have a place to meet aside from the house he kept. They had parted company before ever using those rooms, but now Aurora was quite glad she’d paid for the lodgings for a year in advance. With instructions delivered on readying those rooms for an assignation, Aurora then composed her note to the Duke of Westerhaven. It was simply the address of their meeting and a time. She didn’t even sign her name to it. With all her correspondence taken care of, she sat back and considered what she had just done. She was committed now and it was too late to back out.

  Did she want to?

  No. It had been several months since she had been with Algernon. And while she missed his friendship, she didn’t long for him specifically. But she did miss passion and pleasure, intimacy. She missed having someone touch her, someone to kiss and hold her. She wasn’t certain she ever wished to marry again, but she had no intention of living like a nun either. If men could indulge their passions, why could she not? She had done her duty, after all. She’d married well, produced an heir, and been a faithful wife despite her husband’s unending cruelty and betrayals. Finally free, what reason could she have for not indulging?

  “I’m entitled to my own brand of happiness,” she murmured aloud. “I don’t have to be a wife to be a lover. And I do not have to be in love to make love.”

  Gavin stared at his solicitor and at the investigator his solicitor had hired. “You have nothing?” he clarified.

  “Well, not precisely, Your Grace,” the solicitor said. “We’ve now eliminated a number of places where Mrs. Brandon is not.”

  Gavin tossed the notes onto his desk. “I’ve no need to know where she isn’t. I need to know where she bloody is. This woman could ruin me. Given an opportunity, she will ruin me. God knows she’s vicious enough.”

  “Ruin is a harsh term, Your Grace. You are not married to her. You never were married to her, at least, not legally.”

  No. He hadn’t been married to her legally. Unbeknownst to him, when he’d said his vows in front of a parson in Charleston, Massachusetts, Meredith Brandon already had a husband. Or several. Massachusetts had voided the marriage on the charge of bigamy. But it wasn’t the legality of his marital state that was the issue. It was the scandal of having a low born woman—who was a sometime thief, likely a prostitute and quite possibly a murderess—tell all of London society that she was his duchess. That would never be lived down. “Find her, pay her, give her whatever she requires to ensure that she lets me live in peace without her interference for the foreseeable future! And start looking her in London. We may too late to head her off.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the solicitor nodded. “I will see to it.”

  As the solicitor and his weaselly little investigator left, the butler entered carrying an assortment of correspondence on a silver salver. Taking the notes, there were on
ly two that held any interest for Gavin. Both were addressed in a decidedly feminine hand. But only one of them smelled faintly of the same combination of lemon balm and rose water that Aurora Sefton favored.

  Opening that note first, he took note of how very little information was provided in it. She had not signed her name but had instead provided him with a time and location for their first assignation.

  Setting the note aside, he opened the next one and his heart stuttered in his chest.

  Who is she? The pretty woman I saw you in the park with?

  There was no signature on that note either, but it was just as easily identifiable. Apparently he wouldn’t need his solicitor to find Meredith. She had found him. And it seemed he had inadvertently put Aurora in danger. Because while Meredith did not love him and did not want him, no one knew better than he how spiteful she could be. No, she might not want him, but that didn’t mean she’d ever be willing to let another woman have him, not if it impeded her own agenda.

  “Damn it all.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Aurora looked at the young man before her and wondered, not for the first time, where her tiny, baby son had gone. This boy, with his lanky limbs and his face that was changing almost every time she saw him, it made her heart ache and made her yearn for things she had sworn she would never do again. She couldn’t very well have another child if she didn’t elect to have another husband, but oh, how she missed the sweetness of a baby to cuddle, with their darling coos and wide eyed wonder at everything.

  “Will, do you have an explanation for your behavior?”

  “I do, but I don’t think you’ll like it, Mother,” he admitted, ducking his head. As always, he was respectful. In truth, she rarely ever had complaints about his behavior.

  “The truth is the truth, regardless of how I feel about it. You tell me what it is, and then we’ll determine what must be done,” she encouraged.

  “The other boys pick on him,” Will stated defensively. “He’s not like us!”

  “Not like you how?” Aurora asked.

  The headmaster intervened then. “I believe the boy in question, Simon Atwell, is here on scholarship. He is dependent on the charity of an unknown benefactor.”

  “And you were defending this boy against others who were bullying him?” Aurora asked.

  “Yes,” Will stated. “And I’d do it again. I don’t regret it at all, and if that gets me caned, then so be it.”

  Her heart swelled a little in that moment, full of fierce pride. She glanced back at the headmaster. “You wrote to me because you were concerned about my son engaging in fisticuffs, did you not?”

  “Yes, my lady,” the headmaster said, his tone quite imperious.

  “I see. Did you not think it important to disclose to me the nature of these altercations? That my son was in fact defending another boy who is at a great disadvantage here? Do you not think that warrants mentioning?”

  The headmaster blinked at her. “Well, fighting is against the rules, madame!”

  “And bullying a child who is already out of place and needing friends? Is that not against your rules?” Aurora demanded.

  “Well…” The man broke off, clearly at a loss. “Certainly it is, but this sort of violence—”

  “Will, do those other boys strike Simon?” Aurora asked.

  “They have. They trip him and push him. They hide his books and supplies. They took his shoes the other morning. They were already patched and worn, and they destroyed them, all the while knowing he wouldn’t be able to get more,” the boy said, clearly seeing the way of it. He had recognized that she was on his side.

  “My child defends a helpless boy, and you send me a letter telling me to address his discipline problem?” Aurora snapped. “Other children torment this boy, destroy his property—when he has so very littles to start with. They do everything possible to impede him in his attempt to better himself, and where are their parents, sir? Have they been notified of their children’s lapses in behavior?”

  “Well, no,” the headmaster said. “He did blacken the eye and break the nose of two of his fellow pupils, Lady Sheffield.”

  “I see. And do these fellow pupils outrank him?” she demanded.

  The headmaster flashed.

  “Well, my son, is not an heir to a title. He is in fact Lord Sheffield even as we speak,” Aurora stated. “He also has my permission to do as he sees fit to protect someone who cannot protect himself. You may procure a new pair of shoes for Simon Atwell and have the bill sent to me. I suggest you examine your priorities for student behavior, sir, and revise it accordingly. You should be praising Will for his willingness to champion others, rather than interrupting his studies!”

  “Yes, madame,” the man replied stiffly.

  “Now, you may go. I require a moment alone with my son,” Aurora added imperiously.

  The man rose, swallowed convulsively and then exited his own office. No sooner had he gone than Will launched himself at her.

  Aurora wrapped her arms about him. Hugs from him were few and far between anymore. She meant to savor it while she could. “I’m very proud of you, darling. It was a brave thing you did to stand up for this boy.”

  “Thank you, Mother. I should never have doubted you.”

  Aurora ruffled his hair. “No, indeed, you should not have. For the next holiday, why don’t you see if Simon would like to join you? Perhaps we can go to the country and spend a few days at Sefton House. Would you like that?”

  He nodded eagerly. “I’d love it. I think he would too. He’s very nice, mother. He’s my friend and I don’t care that he’s not titled or from a wealthy family.”

  “Nor should you care,” she answered. “That is remarkable, and I am so happy that you are my son.”

  Outside, the clock in the tower began to chime. “I have to go,” Will said. “I’ll miss afternoon chapel if I don’t.”

  “Give me a kiss then,” she said, pointing to her cheek. When he’d given her the indicated peck, she eased back and smiled, “Run along, and try not to get in any more trouble, please.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  When he had gone, Aurora sat there for a moment longer, savoring the sensation of having had her son in her arms again, even briefly. Then she rose and vacated the headmaster’s office and returned to her carriage.

  “Madame de Roussard’s, Herndon,” she instructed her driver. “And you need not wait. I shall be there for some time.”

  “Yes, my lady,” he replied.

  Gavin traversed the alley behind the shop and found the back staircase as he’d been instructed. The door was unlocked, and he let himself in. It wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting.

  A sitting room and a bedchamber beyond, both of which were decorated in a pretty and feminine way. There were fresh flowers and a tray with wine and food. In short, it appeared he was about to be seduced. He wasn’t opposed to the idea; it was just a novel position for him to be in. He couldn’t recall a single occasion in his life when, at least in carnal matters, a woman had been the pursuer and he the pursued. Matrimonial matters were a different thing altogether.

  At that moment, Aurora emerged from the bedchamber. She wore a simple day dress in blue silk. Her hair, however, was no longer in its elegant coiffure. The mass of blonde waves tumbled over her shoulders in perfect and elegant disarray.

  “This is quite the nest you’ve made,” Gavin remarked.

  “I rented it months ago. Ssadly, I’ve had no call to visit it since I leased it. Luckily, Madame de Roussard is a friend and very discreet. She’s allowed me to retain this set of rooms—in secret, of course—should I choose to embark on another scandalous affair.”

  “Dunne.” Gavin was beginning to hate the man’s very name.

  “He was never here,” Aurora said. “When Algernon and I were…friends, he had procured a small house where we could spend time together. But I knew that our relationship was reaching its natural end long before he did, I think.”


  “Why is that?”

  “I’ve no wish to marry again—ever. Having had one husband, the notion of having another is distasteful to me. But that doesn’t mean I want to be alone or that I am immune to basic human needs,” she offered. “Algernon will always be my friend, because he is a good man and he was instrumental in my learning that there are things that can pass between a man and a woman that are not painful, degrading and intolerable. But the nature of that friendship had to change because he was no longer happy with our arrangement. He wanted something more, and he needed to find someone else, someone not so jaded perhaps, to provide that for him.”

  Gavin was quiet for a moment, allowing the enormity of all that she had said, as well as all that had remained unsaid, to sink in. Finally, he replied, “I hope your husband died painfully.”

  “Alas, he did not,” Aurora said. “A momentary seizure of the heart and it was done. But I have little doubt he writhes in eternal agony now. One can always hope… But I do not particularly wish to discuss my late husband or my former lover any longer.”

  “Then, what should we discuss?”

  She smiled slightly, a soft curve of her lips as her head titled to one side, baring the soft and delicate skin of her neck. “I had rather thought, Your Grace, that the time for conversation had passed. I believe we have reached a point where only action is required.”

  It was all the impetus he needed. Gavin closed the distance between them. As he reached her, one hand slid into to the silken strands of her hair just at the nape of her neck, and the other slid about her waist, hauling her close to him. And then his lips descended on hers, even as she lifted onto her toes to reach him.

  There was no timidity. She met his kiss with the same kind of temerity with which she had met his unfounded hostility and derision during their first meetings. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and who would not be shy in asking for it. In demanding it. She might not always have been in control of her life or even her body, but having been granted it, she would not hide behind false modesty or protestations of maidenly sensibilities.