“I’m warning you both,” he growled. “I’m in no mood for your antics this evening.”
Ashbourne flashed a smile. “Antics?” He poked Colton in the ribs with an elbow. “Now how do you like that? Antics. And after you’ve been so good to him and offered to let him stay in your house, Colton.”
“Thank you, but I’ve got plenty of houses of my own,” James replied, downing the rest of his glass and calling for another.
Colton stretched out his legs and crossed them casually at the ankles. “Yes, well, I’d like to know what sort of antics you ascribe to us. We merely came here for a drink. Had very little idea you’d even be here, Medford.”
James narrowed his eyes on them. “Why do I seriously doubt that? Besides, shouldn’t you both be at home with your wives?”
Ashbourne snorted. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t already guessed that our wives were the ones who sent us?”
“Yes,” Colton replied with a nod. “They aren’t welcome in the club, or I daresay they’d be here themselves.”
Ashbourne glanced across the room. “Though to be honest, I wouldn’t put it past Annie to climb in the window.”
James growled under his breath. “Where is the footman with that bloody drink?”
Colton’s eyes widened. “Well, well, well. This must be serious. You, Lord Perfect, are not one to imbibe. And two drinks in one night no less. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.”
James gritted his teeth. “Lord Perfect,” he mumbled. “That damn moniker. And that’s exactly what I’ve always been. The perfect student, the perfect peer, the perfect friend, the perfect printer.” He let his voice trail off. But there were two roles he’d failed at. Two that haunted him. Not so perfect after all.
“What are you saying, Medford?” Ashbourne cupped a hand behind his ear.
James tossed a hand in the air, dismissing the question. “Let’s get this over with, shall we? What exactly do you two want to know?”
“Want to know? Don’t you think you owe us an explanation?” Ashbourne reached for his own brandy from the footman who had returned with three glasses.
James watched them through blurry eyes. Seemed Ashbourne and Colton had a standing drink order at the club. No surprise there.
James exchanged his empty glass for a full one. “Not particularly,” he drawled.
“There’s nothing you want to tell us?” Colton took a sip of his own drink.
“Like what?” James feigned ignorance.
Colton motioned to James’s snifter. “Like why you’re set on drinking yourself into oblivion tonight?”
Ashbourne shook his head. “Yes, Medford, I must admit I never saw this coming.”
James growled again before taking another hefty swallow. “It’s not as if I’ve murdered a man.” He glared at Ashbourne. Ashbourne had killed a man last spring. A man who had just shot and nearly killed Colton, granted, but if he were going to judge, two could play at that game.
Colton glanced around to ensure no one else overheard them. He lowered his voice. “No, but Kate has … possibly.”
“She has not!” James slammed his fist on the table and the glasses bounced.
Colton’s brows shot up. “You sound certain of that.”
“I am,” James replied through clenched teeth.
“Has Horton found the proof, then?” Ashbourne replied.
“Not yet.” James shook his head.
“And what of the pamphlet?” Colton asked. “Will you be printing it in time for Christmastide reading?’
James pulled the crumpled papers from his coat pocket and tossed them on the table. Colton grabbed them up, and Ashbourne leaned over and read across his shoulder. The pair was silent for several minutes while James continued to drink.
Then Ashbourne whistled. “Sounds as if the duchess had one hell of a time being married to Markingham, poor woman. This pamphlet is sure to raise a few eyebrows.”
Colton tossed the wrinkled pages back onto the table. “I agree.”
“I don’t give a damn about the pamphlet,” James ground out, tossing back a large amount of his drink.
Ashbourne whistled again. “But it’s sure to be a considerable source of income for yourself, is it not?”
James’s voice was savage. “I told you I don’t give a bloody damn about it.”
Colton rolled his eyes. “So, that’s it. You just plan to restore your house, let your reputation and hers suffer, and go on about your life as if nothing ever happened?”
“No, first I intend to see Kate cleared of the charges. Then I’ll go about my life.” James signaled for the footman to bring him another drink.
“Please tell me you’re not thinking of actually having a life with the duchess,” Ashbourne said. “You do know her reputation is shredded beyond all repair. You’d have to leave London, your business, Parliament, your entire life, to be with her.”
James’s only reply was a narrowed-eye glare. And then, “Haven’t you seen the papers? My reputation is already in shreds. Besides, she’s gone back to the Tower. I used her for what she could bring me. I wouldn’t blame her if she detests me.”
Colton sighed. “But yet you still want to fix it. Just like our Lord Perfect.”
James half stood and leaned menacingly over the table toward the marquis, his fists braced against the wood. “I’m warning you, Colton, say another word…”
Colton put up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Good God, Medford. I wouldn’t fight you in the mood you seem to be in at present. I value my life and so does my wife.”
James sat back down and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He downed another gulp of his drink. “Good.”
Ashbourne whistled a third time. “Drinking? Not caring about business? Mussing up your hair? Bloody hell, Medford. Look at you. You’re a mess. Don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love.”
CHAPTER 29
“My lord. My lord.” Abernathy’s voice shook as he hurried into the study James had been temporarily using at one of his other London properties. Locke hadn’t even announced the man. Abernathy must have raced through the house without stopping.
James tossed his quill aside and sat up straight. “What is it?”
“I had a visit from Horton today.” The older man was breathing heavily and his face was quite red.
“And?”
Abernathy paused in an attempt to catch his breath. “The Duke of Markingham’s valet confessed after another one of the servants came forward and pointed the finger at him.”
James’s eyes went wide. He scrubbed his hand across his face and jumped up from his seat. “Say that again.”
Mr. Abernathy barely paused for a quick breath. “One of the footmen at Markingham Abbey claimed the valet had confessed to him.”
James sucked in his breath. No. This couldn’t be happening. Could it? He braced his hands atop the desk and stared Abernathy in the eye. “Why did the servant just now come forward?”
“Perhaps his conscience was tugging at him, my lord. I don’t know. But the magistrate was called in and the confession was repeated in front of him. He’s on the way to report the entire affair to the lord chancellor here in London this morning.”
James searched the barrister’s face. “What does this mean, Abernathy … will Kate—”
Abernathy nodded rapidly. “She should be freed in a matter of hours, my lord.”
James closed his eyes and reopened them again, slowly.
“There will be a great deal of legal work still to be done, my lord, to be sure, but once the accusation is retracted and the charges dropped, her grace shall be a free woman. And given her title, they’re sure to expedite the matter with all due haste.”
James slowly sat back down though he remained on the edge of the seat. “Thank you, Abernathy. Thank you very much.”
“Yes, well. I wanted to let you know immediately, your lordship.” Abernathy turned toward the door. “I’ll just be going to see to all of it.”
“Abernath
y?” James’s voice was steady.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Why did the valet kill Markingham?”
Abernathy shook his head. “Apparently, the duke informed his valet that morning that he intended to replace him with a different man.”
James arched a brow. “Why’s that?”
“It seems Lady Bettina had taken a dislike to him. She had someone in mind from her own household who aspired to the position.”
James’s eyebrow shot up. “Not very sporting of Markingham but hardly a reason to kill a man.”
“Agreed, my lord.” Abernathy bowed. “From what I understand, he’d been employed by Markingham for a great many years. Had served his father, too. No doubt the man was in shock.”
“And so he decided to murder him?” James asked.
“Unfortunately, the duke just so happened to have given his valet his pistol that morning. He’d asked him to see to it that it was properly cleaned. The valet was still holding it when their argument began. Seems it was a crime of passion.” Abernathy shook his head. “Ill-fated timing to be sure.”
James pursed his lips. “And the valet didn’t seem to mind allowing the duchess to be accused of murder?”
Abernathy sighed. “Murder charges tend to bring out the coward in many a man, my lord. Apparently, the valet has been racked with guilt over having put the duchess in such a position. He said he never expected her to be charged. Said he’d hoped Lady Bettina would take the blame. But he has been too frightened to step forward and clear the duchess’s name. Mr. Horton’s continual presence unnerved him. He drank himself into a stupor two nights ago and revealed all to his friend the footman. That chap quickly came forward to report what he’d been told.”
James just shook his head. It was amazing. Truly amazing.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Abernathy added, his hand on the door handle. “Apparently the valet shot the duke in the wardrobe. The thick wooden walls of the room must have muffled the sound of the shot. He dragged his body into the main bedchamber and cleaned up the blood, it seems.”
“That explains why no one heard it, I suppose,” James replied.
Abernathy nodded. “It’s a happy day for the duchess, my lord, to be sure. I cannot wait to go and tell her.”
“By all means then, go.” James gestured toward the door.
After Abernathy left, James leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his neck. Themis trotted up to the side of his chair, waiting to be petted. “It happened, old girl,” he murmured to the dog, pulling out a hand and patting her on the head. “She’s free.”
Themis nuzzled his hand and let out a decidedly emphatic bark.
James pressed a fingertip to the spot between his eyes. Relief washed through him. He’d been anxious for days, hoping against hope. And now that he’d heard the news, he could scarcely believe it. He wished he could see Kate’s beautiful face when she learned she was free.
James spun around in his chair. Ever since that fool Ashbourne had asked him if he was in love, it was all he could think about. Love? No. Love had always been for people who were less controlled than he, less restricted. He couldn’t love Kate. Could he?
Oh, what did it matter? Even if he were madly in love with her, she wanted nothing to do with him. She’d returned to the bloody Tower after all. She’d chosen a prison instead of him and his house. And he didn’t blame her. He’d inserted himself in her life during her darkest hour. Used her for her story and her circumstances. He’d placed her in an impossible position and practically forced her to write a pamphlet. Why would she ever want to see him again?
And even if she did want to see him again, what possible excuse could he conjure to imply a visit was necessary? He owed her money, but he could easily dispatch a servant with that. There was no reason for him to assume she even wanted to see him again. Hadn’t she said so in her note? That they would never see each other again? No. He would not seek her out. Even if it drove him mad. Or killed him.
Or both.
* * *
When Mr. Abernathy left her cell, Kate’s knees gave way. She crumpled to the cold stone floor, shudders racking her body. She was saved. Alive. She huddled in a ball, tears streaming down her face. She’d never allowed herself to hope for this. Not really. Or at least she’d told herself that lie all these weeks. But now, every bit of anxiety and emotion came pouring out. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and sobbed, unabashedly sobbed, relief rolling through her in huge, crashing waves. She’d been saved. Saved. There was some justice in this world after all. Thank you, God. But it hadn’t been God, had it? She had James to thank for it. The odds had been stacked firmly against her. She hadn’t dared to hope. But James. James had. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he’d hired Abernathy and Mr. Horton. He’d saved her.
She pulled herself up, her back resting against her bed frame, and hugged her knees to her chest. She wiped her eyes. She blew her nose. And she breathed. Just breathed.
What did this really mean? She was still an outcast. She’d never be able to live down the scandal. She’d still have to leave London and never come back. A little smile popped to her lips. But she was alive. Alive. And exonerated. She had another chance at life. Another chance to start over in this world. To not make the same mistake again. Despite the tears that continued to roll down her cheeks, she smiled widely this time. It wouldn’t be difficult. Not making the same mistake merely involved staying as far away from Society as possible and not marrying again. Especially not a peer, and especially not one who didn’t truly love her. An image of James flashed unbidden into her mind.
That was simple, wasn’t it?
CHAPTER 30
“So the valet confessed. Just like that?” Lily asked, shaking her head, and taking a healthy draught from her glass of wine.
James was at dinner that evening at Ashbourne’s town house with Annie, Ashbourne, Lily, and Colton. While his friends asked him a series of questions about Kate and the case, he sat staring at the wall, halfheartedly pushing his food around his plate, and being blasted awful company.
“Seems so,” James replied.
“And Kate will be out of prison as early as tonight?” Annie asked.
“Yes.” James nodded.
“I’m so happy for her,” Lily breathed. “I just knew she was innocent. But wherever will she go? She has no family, and I cannot imagine the duke’s mother will want her. Even with her dower, she would be mad to try to live there.”
James grimaced. He’d been thinking many of the same thoughts all day. Where indeed would she go? He’d sent a footman to the Tower earlier with the money he owed her. He couldn’t bear to think of her on the streets. At least with money, she could stay in a hotel somewhere. But the money had come back with a small note penned in Kate’s own hand. “I won’t take this.” That’s all it said. Nothing more. If he’d harbored any doubt, now he knew. She hated him. Hated him so much she wouldn’t even take the money that was rightfully hers. Damn it. He’d ruined everything.
“I’m not sure what she’ll do,” he said quietly. “I haven’t spoken to her.”
“Will you see her again, Medford?” Annie asked in a too astute tone.
“No.” Had his answer been too quick? Too sharp? He expelled his breath and tried again. “That is to say, I see no reason to. But I wish her well, of course.”
“Well, I just cannot believe it,” Lily replied. “To think, after all of these weeks poor Kate spent in the Tower and the valet was guilty the entire time. Why, he might have murdered the footman for knowing. That man was brave to come forward.”
“I agree,” James replied. “Kate owes that man her life.”
“She owes you her life too, Medford,” Annie said. “You hired the runner who eventually caused the valet to confess. Kate never would have got such a vigorous investigation and defense without you.”
“She owes me nothing,” James said simply. He glanced around at the other occupants of the dinner
table. They each were making quite a show of being completely absorbed in their meals. Even Ashbourne didn’t meet his eyes. And he better not bloody well mention love again—not tonight, not ever—or James just might jump across the table and pummel the bloke.
James turned his attention back to his own meal. He stabbed a flaky bit of cod with his fork and raised it to his lips. He took the bite, chewed and swallowed, but it tasted like sawdust in his mouth.
Minutes later, he pushed his chair back from the table and plucked his napkin from his lap. “I’m sorry, Annie. But I fear you’ll have a much more pleasant evening without me.”
“Nonsense, Medford,” Annie said, putting down her fork, leaning over and patting his hand. “But I completely understand if you’d rather leave. You’ve been through quite a lot. You must be exhausted.”
“Fine then, run off.” Lily smiled at him from across the table. “You do still plan to join us day after next, don’t you, Medford? At Colton House, for Christmas? And of course you’ll be coming to Catherine Eversly’s New Year’s Eve masquerade ball?”
“Yes, of course.” James tried to summon a smile. That’s all there was to do now. To carry on with life with some semblance of normalcy. Christmastide, the masquerade. Events that came and went every year. This year was no different. Well, should be no different.
He stood, tossed his napkin to his chair, and bade everyone farewell. Then he slipped out the doors of the dining room.
That’s right. He’d just have to pretend everything was normal again until it was.
* * *
As soon as Medford left the room, Lily folded her hands in front of her and leaned forward. “Poor man. But I’m a bit glad he’s gone, to be honest, because there’s something I wanted to speak to all of you about,” she said in a loud whisper.
Devon, Annie, and Jordan all gave her their full attention.
“Lily, what are you up to?” her husband asked in a warning tone.
“Nothing,” Lily replied innocently, batting her eyelashes.
“Now even I don’t believe that,” Annie said on a giggle.
Secret Brides [3] Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage Page 17