Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage sb-3
Page 26
She nodded. “Lord Chancellor.” Apparently, her reputation preceded her. She should have expected as much.
He arched a brow. “May we help you with something?” His voice echoed off the wood-paneled walls.
She cleared her throat. “As I believe you already know … I am the dowager Duchess of Markingham. And I’m here to see Viscount Medford.”
Muffled gasps rippled through the gallery. If every eye hadn’t indeed been trained on her before, they certainly were now. She pushed up her chin another bit. Where was James?
A great deal of coughing and mumbling ensued. Her gaze scanned both sides of the gallery. As soon as he stood, she saw him. James raised himself from a bench in the center of a large group of men on the right. “I’m here, Kate.” He stared at her with reverence in his eyes. Her breathing hitched. Her chest hurt. She broke into a run.
“Your grace, what’s the meaning of this?” The gavel cracked, and the lord chancellor’s voice thundered across the gallery, filled with outrage and indignation.
Kate didn’t care. She ran, her slippers slapping against the marble floors. She ran straight into James’s arms. He’d climbed over the side of the wooden box in which he was sitting and grabbed her and hugged her. He spun her around.
“I thought you’d never come,” he whispered in her ear as tears ran down her face.
“I only read the pamphlet today,” she said against his rough, wonderfully familiar cheek.
“Your grace.” The gavel cracked again and the lord chancellor’s angry voice rang out. “It’s completely improper—”
Keeping her eyes fastened on James, without turning to the lord chancellor, Kate summoned the loudest voice she could muster. “Oh, we’re far past improper, my lord.” She smiled to herself as she imagined the scandalized look that surely rested on the dignitary’s face. Poor man.
James ran his hands along her cheeks and kissed her then, and her knees almost gave way. “Kate,” he murmured. She felt so much in that one word.
“James,” she murmured. “I’m waiting for you to tell me you love me.”
He crumbled then. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her fiercely then moved his mouth to her ear. “I love you, Kate. I love you. I love you.”
“And I love you, James,” she said between kisses and tears.
“You know your reputation will be completely gone if you marry me,” she said, with a bit of a laugh.
He kissed her cheeks, her temple. “It’s already gone. I don’t miss it.”
“You know you won’t be able to fix it?”
He glanced around at the crowd staring at them with a mixture of shock and anger. James smiled a wry smile. “After this little scene, I doubt we could fix anything. Besides, I’m through trying to fix the wrong things.” He stepped back and smiled at her.
She kissed him again. “Does that mean you plan to stop publishing?”
“No. I intend to use my press to help people from now on. It’s as you told me, Kate. I never wanted to publish anything for the sake of scandal. I’ve always been trying to use my press to fix things. First the plight of the frightened bride, then to satisfy the curiosity of the young women who’d considered running off to Gretna Green. But now, now, Kate, I intend to use it for an even greater purpose, to fix things … the right things. To change the lives of those who are wrongfully accused.”
A younger man leaped from his seat. “Hear, hear.”
James and Kate swiveled their heads toward him. “Who is that?” Kate asked.
“That is Oliver Townsende,” James replied, the hint of a smile on his face. “The new Markingham. Good chap.”
Ah yes. Now she recognized him.
She didn’t have long to contemplate the new duke. The lord chancellor cracked his gavel against his podium so hard, Kate was sure it must have split in two. Oliver Townsende sat down. “Lord Medford,” the chancellor thundered. “What in the devil’s name are you talking about?”
“My pamphlets, gentlemen. And my press,” James called out. “That’s right. I’m sure you’ve all read it in the latest edition. And I have absolutely no intention of resigning my seat in Parliament. You’ll just have to get used to the idea of having a scandalous viscount among your ranks. Now, if you’ll excuse us. My future wife and I are leaving.” He bowed to the gallery and led Kate by the hand down the aisle and straight out the doors.
EPILOGUE
London, late March 1817
Kate sat next to her husband on the front seat of their curricle as they prepared to ride through the park. They’d been holed up all winter. Today was the first good day for riding.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” James asked, regarding her from the corner of his eye.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I don’t care if we get the cut direct from every single person in the park. We have just as much right to be here as anyone. And I am feeling beautiful in my sapphires today.” She touched the jewels on her neck.
“Your wish is my command, Viscountess Medford.” He winked at her. “Let’s go.” He clucked to the horses and they took off down Rotten Row.
Kate laughed. “I thought I couldn’t be any happier after you got me Margaret the Second from the farm as a wedding present,” she said. “But I do love my sapphires.” She touched them again and smiled.
He grinned at her. “The sapphires don’t do you justice. You far outshine their beauty. And as for Margaret the Second, I daresay you’ll be the only viscountess with a pig in her town house.”
“Yes. But I’m in excellent company, with a marchioness who owns a raccoon and a countess with a fox.”
“Very true.” James nodded.
They pulled to a stop in a little grassy nook off to the side of the dirt road. Lily and Annie and Devon and Jordan were already there. They waved to their friends.
“Ah, the viscount and viscountess, welcome,” Lily called.
James helped his wife down from the vehicle and escorted her over to the gathering. Kate had their picnic basket tucked under her arm.
“If it isn’t Lord and Lady Scandal,” Ashbourne called to them, a wide grin on his face.
Annie slapped at her husband’s sleeve. “Oh, don’t listen to him,” she said to James and Kate. “Your wedding was just beautiful. Even if it was just the six of us and Justin. Who cares if you didn’t wait the requisite year of mourning?”
Kate nearly choked on her laugh. “Who cares? Why, I believe that would be the entire town.”
Lily shrugged. “Not us.”
“The entire town but for the four of you, and Lady Catherine,” Kate amended with a wink. “But we decided we were already such a scandal we might as well just get it over with.”
Lily sighed. “What is it that Lady Catherine always says?”
“If you’re going to be a scandal, darling, be a complete scandal,” Annie said in a voice that sounded exactly like the low, sultry tones of Lady Catherine.
They all laughed.
Lily shook her head. “I, for one, cannot tell you how happy I am that everything has worked out. Now, if only the rest of the ton would stop being so self-righteous.”
Kate lowered herself to the quilt that lay atop the grass. “I still cannot believe it. I can’t believe I was accused of murder. I cannot believe I was acquitted. I cannot believe I was ever married, actually. The first time, that is.” She smiled at James. “The entire last ten years seem like an awful dream from which I have finally awoken.”
“I admit, I’ll never understand why the valet suddenly confessed,” James replied.
Lily elbowed her husband and Devon coughed. “Tell him,” she prompted. “It’s time.”
“Time to tell me what?” James’s brow was furrowed.
Devon frowned at his wife.
“Yes, tell us what, Lord Colton?” Kate asked, narrowing her eyes on Colton.
Devon cleared his throat. “Oh, very well. The fact is, I may have put up a bit of money … for the truth to come out.”
&nb
sp; “An insane amount of money,” Jordan added on a fake cough.
James frowned. “What do you mean?”
Colton shrugged. “I offered anyone with knowledge of the murder a purse for their story. Their true story, that is. I arranged the whole thing with Mr. Horton.”
Kate gasped.
James’s eyes were wide. “And that’s why the footman told on the valet?”
“Never underestimate the knowledge of servants,” Colton replied. “In my house they know absolutely everything. I was convinced … if someone else did it, a servant knew. I merely enticed the right chap to come forward with the knowledge.”
“I cannot thank you enough, my lord,” Kate said.
“I am forever in your debt, Colton,” James said, his jaw tight.
“No, now we’re even. I’d been in your debt for your help securing my wife.” Colton smiled at Lily who winked back at him.
“Yes, well, I just cannot believe that despite our very best efforts—and believe me, Medford, we tried—we’ve actually grown to like you, Lord Perfect,” Ashbourne added with a bark of laughter.
Annie elbowed her husband again and James narrowed his eyes on his friend.
“I notice you’re not wearing your cravat as—ahem—straight these days, Medford,” Lily said, pouring him a glass of wine.
James jerked at the cloth around his neck. “That’s right. It’s decidedly askew, and I couldn’t care less.”
“Yes,” Kate replied. “You wouldn’t believe it. He allows messes to sit around the house for hours at a time now, and even the papers on his desk aren’t always straight.”
James beamed at his wife. “And I love every moment of it, my darling.” He kissed her cheek. Then he leaned back on his elbows and stared into the blue spring sky. “It’s true. In fact, every so often, I misalign a stack just for good measure.”
Lily, Kate, and Annie were busily pulling out the items from the picnic baskets and arranging them on the quilts the men had spread along the grass. They had all settled down to enjoy their meal when they noticed a crowd gathering along the row behind them.
“What do they want?” Jordan said, glancing over his shoulder.
James narrowed his eyes. He put an arm around Kate’s shoulder, guarding his wife. “If there’s any trouble…”
Devon and Jordan exchanged knowing, alert glances, their bodies tensed to fight, if necessary.
One man stood forward. “When will your next pamphlet be published, Lord Medford?”
“Hear, hear,” came the shouts from the growing crowd.
“Yes, when is it?” someone else called.
James furrowed his brow. They were referring to his new venture, the pamphlets he’d been printing in an effort to tell the true stories about certain Newgate prisoners. He and Kate had scoured the dungeons of the prison, meeting with the dirty, downtrodden patrons, listening to their tales. They’d just published one such story about a widow who had been falsely accused of stealing. She’d been sentenced to hang. Had the sentence been carried out, she’d have left four small children at home. Orphans.
James and Kate had hired Abernathy and Mr. Horton to examine the facts and the truth had been revealed. The widow hadn’t even been in the town where the theft had taken place. She’d been released from prison shortly after. London had been mesmerized by the story and the pamphlets had sold nearly as well as the scandalous ones had done, amazing as it was to both James and Kate. They’d expected their pamphlets to be completely snubbed by all of London. Though they weren’t about to let that stop them.
Lily’s eyes were wide. “Did they just ask when the next pamphlet will be published?”
“Imagine that,” Annie breathed.
“It shall be published in a fortnight,” James called back. “My lovely wife wrote it.” He leaned over and kissed Kate. Wild applause erupted from the crowd.
Kate smiled. “I cannot believe it. You never could have convinced me that being scandalous would be so popular.”
“Apparently, scandalous is all the crack this Season,” Lily said with a laugh.
James snorted. “And here I was just beginning to relish the challenge our tarnished reputations hold.”
Lily’s jaw dropped. “I cannot believe it. I swear I just heard someone say they always knew Kate was innocent. She couldn’t possibly have committed such a vile act.”
“Ah, the fickle, fickle ton,” Devon said.
“They’ll get their pamphlets,” James said with a nod.
“What are you working on next, Medford?” Annie asked, laying the plates out on the blanket.
Kate answered. “The next one is about a woman named Flora who was accused of killing her husband. There is almost no proof and very little evidence at all.”
“Of course, we’re very careful about whose stories we take on,” James assured them. “After all, there are many criminals who are just that, guilty.”
Annie passed the plates of food and Kate rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. “Yes. But there are many who are not,” Kate whispered. “I was very lucky.”
“Not as lucky as I am, my love.” James raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
Kate leaned back and whispered in his ear. “Remember that night when you took me from the Tower and carried me to your town house on horseback?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“I said a prayer that night. I prayed to believe in love again. To find it again. And I have. Oh, James, you did that for me. I love you so much.”
The crowd cheered once more when James kissed his wife again.
“You’re right, Lily,” he said, glancing back at the bystanders. “Scandal seems to be all the crack this Season.”
Kate sighed and leaned against him. “I’m very glad to hear that because I’m very, very scandalous.”
James pulled her into his arms. “I wouldn’t have you any other way, my dear. Not any other way.”
ALSO BY VALERIE BOWMAN
Secrets of a Wedding Night
Secrets of a Runaway Bride
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Valerie Bowman grew up in Illinois with six sisters (she’s the youngest) and a huge supply of historical romance novels. After a cold and snowy stint earning a degree in English with a minor in history at Smith College, she moved to Florida the first chance she got.
Valerie now lives in Jacksonville with her two rascally dogs. When she’s not writing, she keeps busy reading, traveling, or vacillating between watching crazy reality TV and PBS.
Valerie loves to hear from readers. Find her on Facebook, Twitter, and at www.ValerieBowmanBooks.com
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
SECRETS OF A SCANDALOUS MARRIAGE
Copyright © 2013 by Valerie Bowman.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
www.stmartins.com
eISBN: 9781466813212
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / October 2013
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
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