To Desire a Wicked Duke

by Nicole Jordan

  Ian’s expression remained guarded, enigmatic, as he shrugged. “It isn’t important now.”

  “It is to me,” Tess pressed.

  Several moments passed before he finally answered. “Richard made a serious mistake a few years ago.”

  “What mistake? When was this?”

  “During the spring of your comeout season.”

  Tess thought back, remembering. Spring of 1813 was when Richard had first begun courting her, and when she had first met Ian. She moved closer so that she stood directly in front of his desk. “So what was Richard’s big mistake?”

  Ian’s eyes were shadowed. “He didn’t wish you to know about it. He wanted to try and make up for his transgression before you learned of it, and I agreed then not to share his secret.”

  Tess’s hands clenched at his cryptic reply. “I am so weary of everyone always wrapping me in cotton wool,” she exclaimed in frustration. “Why all this secrecy? What is it that Richard didn’t wish me to know?”

  Ian grimaced, then sighed softly again. “I think you should sit down, Tess.”

  “Thank you, I will stand.”

  To her surprise, he moved from behind the desk and crossed the study to the window. His back to her, he stood looking out at the square of elegant Mayfair residences. His voice was low when he spoke. “Jamie is not actually my son but Richard’s. He never acknowledged the boy because he didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  Tess felt herself gasp. Richard’s son? Richard had a son he had never told her about?

  Her incredulous silence filled the room, but not because she thought Ian was making up the tale. She remained speechless while trying to absorb the shocking impact of his revelation.

  That explained why Jamie’s features looked so familiar to her, she realized. Because the toddler was the spitting image of Richard as a boy. But why had he purposely kept the truth from her? And why had Ian abetted him?

  Her hand stole to her heart where a sudden sharp pain had lodged.

  “He should have told me,” Tess murmured hoarsely. “I cannot believe he would have kept such a significant secret from me.”

  “He wanted to spare you pain,” Ian explained. “And he feared if you knew the truth, you would terminate his courtship when it was just beginning.”

  “Richard thought I would have repudiated him if I learned about his licentious behavior? Because he had fathered a child out of wedlock?”

  “It was not only the child,” Ian said quietly.

  “What more could there be?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “It was also how the child was conceived.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “That spring … Richard seduced one of his young maidservants. A young female dependent in his own household.”

  Tess stared. “Surely you are mistaken.” Yet in her heart she knew he would never make such a charge if it wasn’t true.

  “It is no mistake,” Ian responded. “Her name was Nancy and she was only fifteen at the time.”

  Reaching out, Tess held on to the desk for support. How could the gentle, laughing, charming friend she had known for much of her life have committed such a disreputable act? No honorable man would behave so deplorably.…

  When she remained mute, her gaze imploring him for a denial, Ian continued. “In his defense, Richard claimed that he was foxed when he succumbed to temptation, and that the girl was eager to share his bed. Despite her age, Nancy was a coquette and was trying to attract the notice of a handsome, charming gentleman like Richard. She admitted as much when I questioned her later.”

  “But how could he possibly excuse taking advantage of a girl that young? A defenseless dependent who deserved his protection?”

  “He could not—and he eventually accepted the blame. Richard had continued the liaison even after he began courting you, but several months later, when Nancy discovered she was with child, he ended the affair and came to me for help.”

  Her mind in chaos, Tess could barely focus on what Ian had said. “Why would he come to you?” she asked after a moment.

  “Because I was the head of his family. He was third in line to be my heir, and he could have been duke one day. I gave Nancy a position at one of my smaller estates, since obviously she couldn’t remain in Richard’s employ any longer.”

  “Obviously,” Tess echoed with bitter sarcasm.

  Ian held her gaze intently. “Richard swore that he regretted his actions and begged me to keep the ugly truth from you. He feared how you would respond to his sins, given your idealism.”

  He was right on that score, she thought numbly. She would have ended their courtship at once.

  “So you agreed to keep his secret,” she said in an accusing tone to Ian.

  “Yes. Richard didn’t want to lose you, but he also didn’t want his child to grow up a bastard and wished to do right by the girl. So I arranged for Nancy to marry one of my footmen. I insisted Richard enter the army, though. He joined his regiment by summer’s end, shortly after the wedding took place.”

  With her heart thundering in her ears, Tess scarcely heard that last revelation. She felt light-headed and queasy in her stomach.

  She must have swayed, for suddenly Ian was beside her, his hands on her shoulders, steadying her.

  “I told you to sit down,” he said gruffly, although his gray eyes were dark with concern.

  “For once I regret not obeying you,” she whispered, her throat dry enough that the words came out a mere croak. When Ian guided her toward a chair, she went weakly.

  “How did you end up with Jamie?” she asked after a long, brittle silence.

  “Nancy died a year or so later … the same winter that you lost your mother, in the same epidemic. So I took Jamie in as my ward. He was a blood relation, after all—he shares the Sutherland lineage. And he was innocent of his father’s sins. Moveover, he was unwanted by his stepfather, and I judged he would fare better as the ward of a wealthy duke than the castoff stepchild of a servant. Lady Wingate was able to find a reputable nurse for Jamie, which was fortunate since I knew nothing about caring for a baby.”

  Her godmother knew about Jamie? Tess wondered. She raised her stricken gaze to Ian. “Does Lady Wingate realize that Jamie is Richard’s son and not yours?”

  “Yes.”

  “She never said a word to me.”

  “Richard pleaded with her not to. And she agreed it was best for Jamie’s sake to conceal his parentage. Very few people know the truth, and I intend to keep it that way.”

  She searched his gray eyes, which were dark and solemn. “Did you ever intend to tell me?” Tess asked in a faint voice.

  “I don’t know,” Ian replied somberly, his gaze honest. “I might have someday. I wasn’t certain how you would react. Some ladies would punish a child for the ignoble circumstances of his birth. I have come to love Jamie like my own, and I want to keep him at Bellacourt if I can. I don’t want him growing up like I did, brought up by servants and shipped off to boarding school at the tender age of five,” Ian said with conviction.

  Still stunned by the blow she’d been dealt, Tess rubbed her throbbing temple. At least she understood now why Ian hadn’t defended himself three weeks ago when she’d first learned about the boy.

  He was watching her with caring and concern now, as if regretting the pain he had caused her. But she had insisted on knowing the sordid truth.

  She could still scarcely credit it, though. She felt a cold, numbing shock along with a deep, aching distress to learn that her beloved Richard was not the honorable man she’d always believed him to be.

  Tess clutched a hand over her heart, finding it difficult to breathe. The man she’d thought was so loving and honest and trustworthy had used his charm to debauch and impregnate a young maidservant.

  And all that time Richard had deceived her, Tess reflected. He’d pretended to esteem and cherish her while carrying on an illicit liaison behind her back. He’d fathered a child with another wo
man while professing his love and devotion to her. And he’d purposely lied to her and covered up his betrayal.

  Ian had deceived her also, but at least his deception had been for unselfish reasons: He’d been trying to protect her from hurt, and he’d wanted to protect a young child as well.

  How should she react to the revelations about the boy’s parentage? Jamie was part of Richard, and she had loved Richard. Yet her love had been built on a deception. Now she didn’t know what she felt for him.

  And what about his hypocrisy? How many times had he railed against his elder cousin, deploring Ian’s wickedness? Richard had been every bit as wicked as the Devil Duke, perhaps more so. Ian was known for his scandalous gaming and carousing in addition to his ruthless business dealings, but even at his worst, she felt sure he would have drawn the line at seducing young girls under his protection.

  “Are you all right?” Ian asked urgently when she remained silent.

  Tess shook her head mutely. She couldn’t speak. She was too shaken, too devastated. She wanted to seek solace against Ian’s broad chest, but she couldn’t seem to move.

  After a few more moments, however, she roused herself enough to speak. “I think you should have told me before this.”

  “I didn’t want to shatter your illusions,” Ian replied in a low voice. “Richard was a saint in your eyes, and I felt obligated to preserve his memory. Moreover, he seemed truly repentant. He recognized his mistake and spent the two years before his death trying to redeem himself—to make himself worthy of your love. The army was the making of him.”

  Perhaps so, Tess thought, remembering General Lord Wellington’s letter commending Richard for heroism under arms. Reportedly, he’d been a brave, gallant soldier, recognized for his valiant and honorable deeds. Was his heroism a direct result of his dishonorable past?

  She was still debating the question when Ian returned to his desk and retrieved a folded parchment from a drawer. Crossing to Tess, he held it out to her.

  “Richard wrote you a letter in the event he didn’t make it home and you learned the truth about Jamie.”

  “A letter?”

  “Yes.”

  The seal was still intact, Tess noted as she accepted Ian’s offering. Seeing her name there in Richard’s familiar handwriting, she closed her eyes, trying to keep the worst pain at bay. She had been raw with grief at her betrothed’s death, and now, seeing his letter brought all the old pain rushing back.

  Her eyes blurred with tears, she broke the seal and opened the letter.

  My lovely, loving Tess,

  If you are reading this, then you know about Jamie and his mother—the girl I wronged, just as I wronged you. Please know that I have striven to become a better man every day since. I knew I was not worthy of you, that I needed to earn your love and respect.

  I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. And if not, then I pray I haven’t destroyed the affection you once bore me.

  I have one last favor to beg of you. Will you look after Jamie for me? Rotham has agreed to raise him, but a child needs a mother, and I know you will be wondrous in that regard.

  Always your loving Richard

  Feeling the tears slip down her face, Tess bowed her head.

  Watching her, Ian balled his hands into fists. He wanted to hit something, preferably his damned dead cousin. He wanted Richard alive again so he could strangle the bloody bastard for putting Tess through this renewed pain.

  He knew approximately what was in the letter: Richard was begging her for forgiveness. A forgiveness he didn’t deserve.

  Seeing Tess like this, weeping silently, made Ian hurt deep down in his chest.

  This was exactly why he’d kept the truth from her all these years. He hadn’t wanted to be the one to hurt her—and shattering Richard’s halo only added to the loss she’d already suffered. From her stricken expression he could tell he had devastated her once again, just as he’d done two years ago when he’d broken the news of her beloved betrothed’s death.

  Ian breathed forcibly, battling a surge of emotion at his own impotence. He ached with the urge to comfort Tess, his heart wrenching at the crushing vulnerability he’d seen shimmering in her eyes. He wanted to hold her until that terrible look went away.

  “Tess,” he entreated, taking a step toward her. “Please, love, don’t cry.…”

  At the sound of his voice, she stiffened and dashed a hand over her wet cheeks. She wouldn’t accept his comfort, Ian knew.

  The next moment she proved him right. Tess rose abruptly to her feet, clutching her hands together to steady their shaking.

  “I cannot … forgive me, but I cannot stay here just now. I need to be alone.”

  “Very well, I will leave you,” Ian offered.

  He started to turn away, but Tess stopped him. “No. This is your house, Ian. I want to go home. To Chiswick.”

  Ian went still. Of course she considered Chiswick her home, and not this London mansion where she was residing only to fulfill expectations of his duchess.

  He searched Tess’s face, wishing in vain that he could wipe that lost, grief-stricken look from her eyes.

  Then stepping back, he let her go, even though it was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

  Tess hurried from the room, and when Ian heard voices a moment later, he knew she was summoning her carriage. When eventually he heard the sound of horses’ hooves outside on the street, he moved back to the window and watched Tess run down the front steps to the waiting vehicle.

  A feeling of emptiness, of dread, washed over Ian. Her despair had only confirmed his fears: She was still too much in love with his cousin’s memory to ever love him.

  He’d wanted, hoped, to make her forget her former ardent feelings, but her heart still belonged to Richard.

  No doubt she would forgive Richard in time, Ian surmised. Tess was too kindhearted not to. But more crucially, she would forgive his sins because she had loved him.

  Ian’s jaw clenched. His own wicked past was another matter entirely. He doubted Tess could overlook his own sins as readily. Especially not now when her trust had been violated so painfully.

  And therein lay the rub.

  He’d known from the moment he laid eyes on Tess four years ago that he wanted her, but now he truly wanted her for his wife, his life’s mate. What was more, he desperately wanted her love. He wanted her to look at him with respect and affection and trust. He wanted to arouse the kind of deep, passionate emotion in her that she aroused in him.

  The same heart-deep love she had felt for his cousin.

  Yes, Ian was finally willing to acknowledge, he loved her passionately. In truth, Tess had invaded his barren heart long ago.

  He’d always thought it would be difficult to open himself to love, but he’d had no choice in loving Tess. She had obliterated his legendary dispassion from the very first.

  Fear of losing her made him ache.… Except that he couldn’t lose what he had never had, Ian reminded himself savagely.

  Tess didn’t love him and likely never would. Their marriage was a sham. No doubt she wanted more than separate bedchambers; she wanted them to live separate lives, as he’d originally promised they would.

  And he would let her do so if that would make her happy.

  When had her happiness become so vital to his own? Ian wondered. Perhaps it had always been so.

  He swore a vicious oath—a curse rife with anger, frustration, and despair of his own. Once again he had lost out to his saintly cousin. His saintly dead cousin.

  Ian gave a harsh, bitter laugh as he watched Tess’s carriage disappear. After two years of watching her pine for her lost love, he should have learned by now that it was futile to fight a damned ghost.

  Why am I not surprised to learn the truth about Ian’s character? He is not nearly as wicked as I have always believed, or as he himself led me to believe.

  —Diary Entry of Miss Tess Blanchard

  Tess’s tears continued to spill sil
ently down her face as her carriage left London and wended through the countryside toward Chiswick. She felt betrayed, sick at heart upon learning the shameful truth about her late betrothed’s failings.

  Perhaps she should not have left Ian so abruptly, but pain had rushed up to swamp her. She’d needed to get away, to be alone while she reassessed her beloved memories of Richard.

  When Spruggs eventually drew up before her house, Tess sat there unseeing, feeling the bleak weight of sadness. Moments later, her footman opened the carriage door and let down the step.

  Suddenly realizing she would find no solace inside her empty house, however, Tess no longer wanted to be alone. “I have changed my mind, Fletcher. Please have Spruggs drive me to Wingate Manor.”

  The footman looked concerned, but tugged on his forelock. “As you wish, your grace.”

  Fletcher shut the door quickly and soon her carriage was moving again.

  Retrieving a cambric handkerchief from her reticule, Tess attempted to dry her eyes and cheeks and strove to calm her distraught emotions. She was acting on impulse, but she wanted her godmother’s counsel and the comfort of a dear, familiar face. Even more, she wanted an explanation for Lady Wingate’s decision to shield her from the truth.

  When they reached her ladyship’s estate in Richmond, Tess was admitted and shown into the elegant rose parlor, where Lady Wingate was finishing her tea.

  “Ah, you deign to visit me at last,” her ladyship said with more than her usual acerbic bite. “I heard you had returned from Cornwall, Tess, but I expected you to call on me before this—”

  She stopped abruptly, evidently deducing from Tess’s red eyes that there was something gravely wrong.

  “Cheevers, please bring more tea for the duchess,” the baroness commanded her butler. To Tess, she said more gently as she patted the brocade sofa cushion beside her, “Sit down, my dear.”

  When the servant had gone, Lady Wingate said simply, “So you know about Richard.”

  Tess nodded, feeling her eyes well up again. “I wish I had known four years ago,” she declared in a hoarse voice.