A Duke in Time--The Widow Rules

Home > Other > A Duke in Time--The Widow Rules > Page 12
A Duke in Time--The Widow Rules Page 12

by Janna MacGregor


  He propped his elbows on the burl wood desk and rested his head in his hands. When she’d licked her plump red lips last night, desire had run like liquid fire through every part of him. His body seemed to vibrate in response to her. He recognized Katherine as an attractive woman, but he prided himself on self-control. It had kept him alive for all those years in the military, but last night, his famous willpower had gone on an unexcused holiday.

  When Lady Woodhaven had shared that Meri had left her quickly after the marriage, Christian had been shocked. But it wasn’t surprising once he considered the source.

  “Captain, Lord Grayson is here to see you.” Morgan stepped aside, and Grayson entered the room.

  “Good God, Randford. There’s not a mark on you. That’s a sure sign you’re the devil’s spawn.” With dark brown hair and determined brown eyes, his friend was a formidable man. All six foot three inches of his body was toned muscle, the sign of a man who worked hard.

  With a grin, Christian stood from the desk and made his way to his friend. Instantly, they embraced. “Thank you for coming.”

  “I’d have been here sooner, but estate business kept me from calling earlier.” Grayson pounded him on his back. “Three years. I can’t believe you’re finally back. How I’ve missed you, old man.” He finally released Christian and studied him as if under a magnifying glass.

  After several moments, Christian had had enough. “What are you looking for?”

  “I’m counting the scars that can’t be seen.” Grayson laughed at his own observation. “There are quite a few, aren’t there?”

  His friend’s observation hit a little too close to the truth. “Come, let’s share a drink. I have much to discuss.” Christian strode to the side table and poured a fingerful of brandy for his friend and the same amount of whisky for himself. By then, Grayson had settled himself in front of the roaring fire that crackled in welcome.

  He returned to the marquess’s side and handed him a glass. They both silently toasted each other.

  “I prayed for your safe return every day,” Grayson said.

  His chest tightened at the quiet words. At least one person had cared whether he’d returned or not. “Thank you. There were so many others who didn’t have the same luck.”

  The two men downed the rest of their drinks without speaking, in remembrance for all their friends and acquaintances they’d lost in the war.

  Christian sat in the chair next to his friend. “Do you ever regret not joining the Navy?”

  Grayson shook his head, then got up from the chair. As he made his way to the brandy, he grabbed Christian’s empty glass. He poured both of them another fingerful, then returned to Christian’s side. “No. I’m needed at the estate.” He exhaled, the sound tinted with frustration. “I work in the fields right alongside my tenants. Honestly, some days I want to leave the place and never return. But that wouldn’t be fair to all those families who lived and worked on the land for generations.”

  The grimace on Grayson’s face meant he was running out of options. Due to his father’s bad investments, Grayson worked day and night trying to find enough money to keep his marquessate from falling into insolvency.

  “My offer of a loan still stands,” Christian offered.

  “No, I cannot do it. I don’t know if or when I could ever repay you. I wouldn’t take advantage of our friendship.” Grayson took another sip of brandy.

  “I could offer you money as an investor in your experiments.”

  His friend shook his head. “It’s still too risky. Harnessing steam into powering engines is my dream. There’s a bigger thrill in making electricity and capturing it in a bottle than running a dusty, dirty estate. But like you, I have other responsibilities.”

  “If you decide otherwise, the offer will always stand,” Christian said.

  “Thank you.” Grayson grew quiet, then sat of the edge of his seat, devoting his full attention to Christian. “It wasn’t until last month I heard of Meri’s demise. I’m sorry.”

  Christian nodded. “Because of his passing, I have no heir. Another responsibility that needs to be addressed. The duchy isn’t my only priority. But it’s the only one tainted by my father and his second wife.”

  Grayson lifted an eyebrow in challenge. “Really? That’s what you think? You have the ability to craft the duchy into anything you want. It’s not tainted—only you think that.”

  With a dismissive grunt, Christian looked away.

  Grayson laughed. “It’ll thrive when you turn your attention to the dukedom. You’re a natural at managing large endeavors. Look at how you led your troops on the battlefield. You know how to organize people for a common goal. Besides, you were groomed for the task from birth.”

  A log broke, sending sparks up the flue. A peaceable silence descended between them.

  “Welcome home, Christian.” He held up his glass in a toast. “To you, my friend.”

  “Thank you.” Christian held up his own glass. He took a sip, then exhaled as he examined the leaded crystal glass in his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. Meri left me with a situation that makes his most outrageous escapades look like a Sunday church service.”

  “Poison Blossom?”

  Christian groaned. “You heard?”

  “All of London is agog as to what you’re going to do with her. Half the racing community is taking up collections to see if they can buy her from you.”

  “The situation I’m referring to is more than a pregnant racehorse. Today, I received another bequest from my half brother, the deed to a small apartment.”

  “Might come in handy,” Grayson quipped.

  “Apparently, he had a paramour,” Christian answered. “She sent a letter this morning.” He picked up the note that arrived with a scented handkerchief enclosed. “She said it was Meri’s wish that she offer her services for the entire month, but only if I would allow her to stay in the apartment.”

  His friend’s eyes grew round. “What? He gave you his mistress?”

  Christian leaned back in the chair and glanced sideways at Grayson. “Hmm, yes. He signed a contract for a year’s worth of her services. For the first time in his life, he paid in advance. He must have finally won a race. There’s still a month left in their arrangement.”

  Grayson whistled slightly.

  “There was only one decision.” Christian shrugged, then took the seat opposite the marquess. He wanted to be able to see every reaction that clouded his friend’s face when he told the entire tale. “I immediately instructed Hanes to end the contract but allow her to keep the apartment. She’s free to find another benefactor. I don’t need that type of gift. Can you imagine how society would view me if they knew that Meri had given me his paramour?” He rested his elbows on his knees and caught his friend’s gaze. “There’s more.”

  “His wife knows about the mistress?”

  “No,” Christian said. “None of the wives know about her. Thank God.”

  Grayson choked on a sip of brandy. Once his coughing fit stopped, he wiped his eyes with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “Pardon me. I didn’t hear you correctly.”

  “You did. I said ‘wives,’ as in more than one.”

  Grayson simply stared at him in disbelief. After a moment, he spoke. “Bloody hell, Christian. Tell me.”

  A half hour later, after telling the sordid tale, Christian was the one who got up and refilled their glasses. “I’m waiting for Sykeston to answer my letters. I’m hoping he comes here soon. But how I can help Miss Blythe Howell, his third wife, keeps me up at night.”

  “Wait. Beth?” Alert, Grayson lifted his gaze from his glass to Christian’s. “Beth is Miss Howell’s nickname,” the marquess said.

  “Do you know her?” Christian stood, then started to pace. It was the only way he could keep his thoughts in order.

  “I do. Our families were friends when we were little. I never cared for her self-centered brother, but Beth … is a rare individual. She possesses an impeccab
le character. She’s intelligent, hard-working, and cares for others.”

  Christian stopped in front of the fire. “Sounds like you two have a history.”

  Grayson shrugged.

  It was common knowledge that the marquess had been trying to find an heiress to marry.

  “If I’ve overstepped, forgive me.”

  “You haven’t.” Grayson reclined and stared out the window. “I wanted to offer for her. Even talked to her brother. Shortly thereafter, I discovered the marquessate was practically bankrupt. She’s an heiress, but her brother didn’t approve of me. Thought I wasn’t good enough for her. What a farce that is. He has an uncanny ability to find the worst men as potential grooms.” His eyes widened when he realized what he’d said. “I didn’t mean that.”

  Christian stayed any further apology by holding up his hand. “We both know how Meri was.”

  Grayson exhaled. “I may not have money, but at least I would have cared for her and made damn sure she was happy.” His voice rose in frustration.

  “I worry about her,” Christian confided. “She wants to stay hidden. If Sykeston marries Constance, then she is safe from ruin. But if word leaks about Katherine and Beth, then their reputations are in danger.”

  He debated whether to tell Grayson all the story or not. But the hell with it. He was his friend and confidant. If anyone could help him sort out this mess with Katherine, it was the marquess.

  “There’s even more.” Christian sat at his desk and ran both hands through his hair. Perhaps such a movement would wipe away the errant thoughts that had populated his mind since last night.

  Grayson placed his empty glass on the desk and waited for Christian to continue.

  “Last night I almost kissed Katherine.”

  “That’s the first wife?”

  “Yes.” Christian stood abruptly, then walked to the window. The elm tree in the courtyard captured his attention. It was the one that he and his mother had planted when he was five years of age. She’d died shortly thereafter. His mother had encouraged his love of botany. She had shared her passion for all things green, and now he wanted to do the same with his children one day. Twenty-five years later, his elm had flourished and stood taller than any other tree on the property. For some reason, it reminded him of Katherine. “She’s beautiful,” he murmured. “And kind.”

  “Go on,” Grayson encouraged. “I can see you’re struggling with the attraction.”

  “Lord Miles Abbott was invited to the dinner hosted by his sister. Seems Lady Woodhaven would love to see a match between Katherine and her brother.” He struggled not to put his fist through the nearest wall.

  Jealously. That was the only way to explain it. Never had he experienced such an emotion because of a woman.

  His heart contracted in his chest with a dull beat. But he’d suffered from jealousy before. His father’s fondness and favoritism for Meri. He swallowed the foul taste that marched up his throat.

  “It goes against everything I stand for to want Katherine.” Christian turned around and looked to his friend. “She’s part of Meri, which makes her part of my father. Not to mention that the church doctrine frowns upon it.”

  “The church wouldn’t interfere in this.” Grayson leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “Are you worried what others might think?”

  His question went to the heart of the matter.

  “It’s not as if this would be a unique situation under ecclesiastical law. Look at the marriage of the Earl of Sheridan. He married his brother’s widow. If you wed Meri’s widow, the marriage would not be void. Without an heir, there is no interested party who would bring suit.” Grayson nodded confidently. “Besides, the Prince Regent is so enchanted with you, he would intervene on your behalf, if necessary.” The assuredness in the marquess’s gaze made his eyes blaze. “I’d even introduce a bill in the House of Lords to ensure it was legal. You have nothing to fear.”

  Christian rubbed the center of his chest. Throughout the war, he’d felt nothing. He’d felt no need to share his life with another. He hadn’t missed the feel of a woman curled around his body. His regiment had kept him busy every hour of the night and day. One didn’t have the luxury to think of family betrayals, or life, or even women, outside of the next day. But now that he was back in London and back home, he could think of nothing else—particularly Katherine.

  Christian returned to his seat. “I want to do more with my life than be a duke who tends to his estates, produces an heir, then waits to die. I want to help the men in my regiment find work and a meaningful life now that they’ve returned to England. I’ve helped some, but there are so many more that need assistance. They put their lives on the line for our country and me. I want to see they’re paid back for all they sacrificed. Would I be taken seriously if I lust after Meri’s wife?”

  “Ramrod and bollocks.” Grayson leaned forward. “Of course, you would be.”

  “There’s more.” Christian stared at the desk. “I asked her to help me start a business, a charity of sorts. We’re going to meet later to see about a warehouse that she thinks would be an ideal location.”

  “Good. May I make an observation? Not a single soul would care one whit whom you lusted for. Particularly if you’re doing good work.” His face grew animated. “Indeed, I like the idea. If I had the money, I’d host an event introducing it for you.”

  “That’s kind of you,” Christian agreed. “I’m not so certain it’s wise to depend upon Katherine. She was Meri’s wife.”

  “Come on,” Grayson chided. “That’s a little narrow-minded, isn’t it?”

  “This attraction to her reeks of scandal. I want this charity to succeed.” Christian steepled his hands together. “To accomplish that, I need people’s good opinion to make it happen.”

  Grayson laughed, a genuine sound of good humor. “You’ve been away so long, you don’t understand society anymore, my friend. Those fools live for gossip. As soon as one rumor surfaces, another pops up and grabs their attention. They’re like pups learning to hunt. They may learn to point, but one squirrel racing by completely captures their attention.” He laughed at his own joke. “Take my advice. If you’re interested in this woman, then you shouldn’t worry about society. You should worry if it’s a good match for you.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Besides, society will forgive you anything. You’re a duke and a bloody war hero, a man who risked his life to save others when certain death faced them.” Without allowing Christian to answer, he continued, “Are you concerned if you married her—”

  “Marriage? My God, man! I simply wanted to kiss her.” Christian shook his head. “I’m talking about an attraction, that is all.”

  “Is it?” Grayson narrowed his eyes again.

  Frankly, Christian felt as if his inner workings were being examined under a microscope. Christian cleared his throat to quell the riot of emotions that swept through him at the direct questions and observations. Deep down, he knew that Grayson was right.

  Christian leaned back against his chair. “I can’t answer that. She’s the only woman I’ve met since I’ve been back in London who challenges me one minute, then can turn around and delight me.” He exhaled deeply, but his troubles were still lodged in his foremost thoughts. “But for God’s sake, she married my brother. Why couldn’t she be someone else?”

  “Such as?” Grayson drummed his fingers on one thigh.

  “Someone who had nothing to do with Meri.” He stared straight at Grayson. “She’s in commerce. Runs a linen business of some sort.”

  Grayson smirked. “Is that a problem?”

  “It’s perfect. In fact, she’s thought up amazing ideas for the charity. With her astute business sense, she probably helped Meri with money. The problem is … it’s as if he conjured her from thin air, married her, and now he’s tormenting me with her.” He held Grayson’s gaze.

  The marquess lowered his voice. “Don’t live in the past.”

  “Damnation, I’m not. I’m di
fferent. You don’t go to war for three years without changing.” He shot out of his seat like a cannon, upsetting the chair in the process. Without acknowledging what he’d done, Christian stood the chair upright. “You, of all people, should understand that better than anyone.”

  “Then help me see the problem?” Grayson countered.

  “Why would an intelligent, not to mention savvy, woman like Katherine marry my brother?” Christian growled. After a moment’s silence, he walked around and leaned one hip against the desk’s edge in front of Grayson. “Well, that took the wind out of your sails.”

  “I didn’t know I was a ship. I thought I was your friend.”

  “You see my point.” Christian wiped a hand down his face. “Everyone has always preferred Meri.” He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. “I vowed not to become involved with anything or anyone associated with him.”

  “What about the other wives? You’re involved with them.”

  “They’re the exceptions. Meri destroyed their lives. But Katherine? I’ve broken my own vow over her. The truth is … I don’t know whether I want to kiss her, take her to bed for a night, or…”

  “Perhaps marry her?” Grayson pointed out softly.

  The thought summoned all sorts of emotions inside him. He enjoyed her wit and banter. Her ability to create an idea for helping the soldiers was sound and, frankly, innovative. She understood what mattered to him. He’d always been an outsider peering inside at his own family. Always wondering why he didn’t fit in. But with her, those feelings were forgotten.

  “I don’t know if marriage is even in the cards.”

  Grayson stared at him with an incredulous look. “Why not?”

  “She said she wasn’t interested in marrying again.” The words were so low, he wasn’t even certain if his friend had heard them.

  “Well, I have faith in your abilities. You could convince her otherwise.” Grayson leaned back in his chair, resulting in his straight black hair falling gently in front of his eyes. “I need to make time to get the mess cut,” he murmured, pushing the offending mane aside.

 

‹ Prev