The Bride of Devil's Acre

by Jennifer Kohout

  “Show him in, Turner.”

  Turner bowed out of the room, returning a short time later with Henry in tow. “I sent for tea, my lady.”

  “Thank you, Turner.” Jacqueline stood, dread forming a hard knot in the pit of her stomach. Henry’s shoulders were stiff and his face set, warning her this was not going to be a pleasant social visit. Unbidden, his last words to her came back to her hauntingly clear. “Henry.”

  Henry threw back his shoulders. “Mr. Gates, if you please.”

  Jacqueline’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t asked him here, and if being in her company was so distasteful, he could take himself off. Unfortunately, manners (and a wee bit of curiosity) had her offering him a seat. “Would you care to sit, Mr. Gates?”

  “No, I won’t be staying. I just came to see for myself if the rumors were true.”

  Jacqueline felt a dull sense of inevitability. “Which rumors would that be?”

  “All of London is talking about you and Eddington. Really, Jacqueline, I wouldn’t have thought you capable. First, you try and elope, and then you insist on marrying that…that criminal. And now this!”

  Jacqueline’s mind whirled. Elope?

  “Barely married and already taking a lover. Does Eddington know you’re increasing? And what of your husband…?”

  “Wait.” Jacqueline held up her hand, but Henry ignored her.

  “Is the child even his?”

  “WAIT!” Jacqueline shouted.

  Henry snapped his teeth shut, surprised and momentarily embarrassed by his outburst.

  “Wait,” Jacqueline said, this time more quietly. “Henry, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “I’m quite certain I do not.” Jacqueline suppressed the urge to send Henry marching back out the front door. Something was seriously amiss, and it was best dealt with now. “Please, sit.”

  Henry hesitated, staring across the room at his childhood friend. She appeared tired, with dark circles under her eyes, and her hair lacked its usual shine and luster. It was as if some of the light had gone out of her soul.

  Eventually, Henry nodded, stepping into the library and taking a seat across from Jacqueline. At that moment, the tea service arrived, granting her another much-needed moment to collect herself.

  “Light and sweet,” she said, handing a cup and saucer to Henry.

  “Thank you,” Henry nodded, automatically accepting tea he had no desire to drink.

  “I’m not entirely sure which outrageous accusation to deny first,” Jacqueline said, sipping her tea. It was almost laughable, or would be if the accusations weren’t so heinous.

  “First of all, I am not increasing,” Jacqueline insisted, her voice hard.

  “I’ll admit your appearance lends some truth to your words, but it’s early yet, and your father was quite clear on the matter.”

  “My father was mistaken.” Or lying.

  Jacqueline could still remember the terrifying relief she had felt when she started her last course. She had been almost positive Carver had been killed before he had a chance to complete the act, but she had no way to know for sure. The bleeding had confirmed that she was to be spared the indignity of bearing that monster’s child.

  “As for Marcus, he was kind enough to offer me a place to stay after a falling out with my husband.” Jacqueline would not reveal Devil’s part in her abduction, certainly not to Henry. “We are friends; that is all.”

  “Why didn’t you return home?”

  “My father made his position regarding my marriage very clear.” Jacqueline sipped her tea. In truth, she wouldn’t return home, even if her father would have allowed it. There would be no escaping a second time, and Jacqueline would not go back to that prison.

  “Well, what did you expect after running off and trying to elope? Your father was doing his best to protect you!”

  “What are you talking about?” Jacqueline frowned. “I never tried to run off…”

  “Why do you insist on denying it? Everyone knows that the story of your supposed kidnapping was an attempt to cover up your failed elopement. Your father confided as much when I asked for your hand.”

  “You did what?” The room tilted, and Jacqueline hurriedly set down her teacup, the fine china rattling alarmingly.

  “I’ve never made my affections for you a secret,” Henry said softly. “You had to know that I would do anything to help you. I came as soon as I heard the rumors and spoke with your father. Jacqueline, are you all right?”

  Jacqueline’s face had lost all its color.

  “No, no, I’m not.” Jacqueline stared at Henry, suspicion narrowing her eyes. “I heard you tell my father you couldn’t marry me.”

  Henry nodded. “I am sorry, but there was only so much I could do. You must understand. I am my father’s heir; I cannot marry a woman carrying another man’s child, not when that child would stand to inherit. No matter how much I might want to.”

  This last was uttered quietly, Henry's eyes pleading with her to understand.

  “Henry, I assure you, I did not run off with anyone.” Jacqueline closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. The start of her headache coincided with Henry's arrival and threatened to send her back to bed. “My carriage was attacked, and I was kidnapped. During the time I was being held, there was an assault upon my person.”

  “But your father—”

  “My father lied.” Jacqueline swallowed the bitter taste of her father’s betrayal. She was surprised, she realized, to learn the lengths her father would go. She’d always known he blamed her for her mother’s death, but she never suspected him capable of such sabotage.

  Henry blanched as the full weight of his mistake registered. “My God, Jacqueline! Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  But she was far from fine. Her life was a mess, and currently she saw no way out of it.

  “Jacqueline, I owe you my sincerest apology,” Henry said as he hurried around the table and knelt before her.

  “There is no way you could have known,” Jacqueline granted, staring down into Henry's upturned face. But he should have. If there was any one person that knew her better than all others, it was Henry. He should have known Jacqueline would never do anything as reckless as running away with a man. The fact that he thought her capable stung.

  “Let me make it up to you,” Henry said, taking Jacqueline’s hand in his own. “It’s not too late. We can have your marriage annulled…”

  Jacqueline blinked. She really had believed she was done being surprised for the day, but the surprises just kept coming.

  “There is no need for you to stay married to that man. You deserve better, and it would be my pleasure…”

  Henry was still talking, but the words washed over Jacqueline. An annulment. Was such a thing even possible? And what would she do then?

  “It will take some time, of course, and you will need to return to your father’s house until such time as we can marry.”

  “What?” The world snapped back, Henry’s words finally registering. “Henry, what did you say?”

  Henry remained on one knee. “I’m asking you to marry me.”

  Jacqueline stared. “Henry—”

  “I love you, Jacqueline. I have always loved you. I am just sorry…I should have known better than to listen to your father.” Henry shook his head. He’d been quick to believe Lord John, never suspecting a father could speak such vile lies about his own daughter. “I realize now that I am partly to blame. If I had insisted on speaking with you, of confirming your father’s story, you never would have been forced into this marriage.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Jacqueline said. Yet, she wondered, would she have married Devil if there had been another option? She stared down at Henry. He was an attractive man, with brown hair and brown eyes. What did it matter if his nose lacked the character of having been broken, and his jaw was soft and round? His features were put together nicely, but they wo
uldn’t stand out in a crowd the way her husband’s had.

  Jacqueline forced away the image of her husband. “I’m not sure there are grounds for an annulment.”

  Henry waved her concerns away. “Between your father and mine, I am sure we can manage.”

  “There is no way my father will act on my behalf.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” Henry rose, pulling Jacqueline to her feet. “We shall appeal to his conservative side. If it is a choice between the devil and me, well, it’s really no choice at all.”

  “When will you speak to him?”

  “Is that your way of saying yes?” Henry held Jacqueline’s hand. They stood close, and he could smell the light scent of her skin.

  Jacqueline felt the world spiraling around her. So much had happened since her kidnapping and she was ready for the world to stop moving. “Yes.”

  Henry surprised by his urge to whoop with joy. Instead, though, he gathered Jacqueline’s hands in his own and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “You have no idea how happy this makes me.”

  Jacqueline told herself to smile. This was what she had been looking for, the perfect answer to the question of what to do. With Henry’s help, she would annul her marriage, marry him, and reclaim her place in society.

  “I’ll make you happy, I promise,” Henry said, fervently kissing her fingers.

  “You already have,” Jacqueline said perfunctorily. It was surprising how easily she slipped back into the role of a proper lady, uttering the perfect platitudes with practiced smiles.

  “As for your father, I think we should speak with him together.” Henry relished the idea of speaking with Lord John; Jacqueline did not. “I will call for you tomorrow at three, if that is agreeable?”

  “It’s perfect.” Jacqueline’s stomach churned. She hadn’t spoken with her father since her marriage to Devil. His last words to her had been to denounce her as his daughter.

  Henry was staring at her, his eyes light with happiness. Slowly, he bent his head, brushing dry lips across her mouth. The touch was tentative and could barely be called a kiss.

  Jacqueline told herself it didn’t matter if there was no spark of passion and no heat pooling in her belly. Henry was sweet, a longtime friend who would make a good husband and some day, a good father. The Gates family was respected, and with the earl standing behind them it would just be a matter of time before her reputation was repaired and her life returned to normal.

  Henry lifted his head, the sweet taste of Jacqueline lingering on his lips. “I’m off to speak with my father,” he told her. He wanted to ensure his father’s support before speaking with Lord John. It would not do to give the earl any reason to deny his petition.

  “He will agree to help?” Jacqueline asked, watching Henry gather his hat and gloves.

  Henry nodded. “I shall explain everything. He will be relieved to hear that the rumors are just that—rumors. Besides, my mother always had a soft spot for you, and father has a soft spot for mother.”

  “With five boys in the house, can you blame her?”

  He stopped at the door to the library, turning once to look back at her. “Everything will be fine, I promise.”

  Jacqueline nodded, watching Henry leave. “I hope so,” she whispered after he was gone. “I hope so.”

  “Is he gone?” Marcus strolled into the library, throwing himself down on the settee beside Jacqueline. “I do not know how you can stand that man’s company.”

  Jacqueline regarded her host. It wouldn’t do to say an unkind word to a man gracious enough to take her in, but, “You look tired.”

  One blond brow rose slowly.

  “What time did you go to bed?”

  “Early,” Marcus purred, “but it wasn’t sleep I was after.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Who said it was a her?”

  Marcus was in a mood. “You come home smelling of perfume, not aftershave.”

  Marcus gave up. Jacqueline had shown a surprising amount of tolerance, never once griping about being left alone or his late nights. “What did Gates want?”

  Jacqueline stared down at her hands, twisting her wedding ring round and round her finger. It was exquisite, but that wasn’t why she still wore it. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it off. Not yet.

  “Jacqueline?”

  “Henry offered to help have my marriage annulled, and he asked me to marry him.”

  Marcus sat up straight. “Is that what you want?”

  Jacqueline shrugged. “What other choice do I have?”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s the only one I have.”

  Marcus stared at his friend. She was a strong woman, too strong, he suspected. Aside from her tearful confession, he had yet to see her cry. There were no fits, no hysterics or bouts of anger.

  “If you want to have your marriage annulled, I can help with that. You do not have to marry Gates.”

  “And then what?” Jacqueline asked, touched by the offer. “I can’t stay here.”

  “You could, as my wife.”

  Jacqueline wasn’t sure which one of them was more surprised by the offer—her or Marcus. “I couldn’t do that to you.”

  “But you can marry Gates? Why?”

  “Because I don’t love him.”

  “You don’t love me, either.” If there was one thing Marcus knew for certain, it was the unfortunate lack of anything romantic between him and Jacqueline. Oh, to be able to chose who one fell in love with!

  “I care a great deal for you, and I treasure our friendship,” Jacqueline said, smiling a bit sadly. “Too much to risk either by locking us together in a loveless marriage.”

  “So you will take Gates’ offer?”

  “I already have.” Jacqueline’s admission came quietly. “Tomorrow we call on my father. If all goes well, I will return home and await the annulment.”

  “You do not have to do that.” Marcus was well aware of Jacqueline’s feelings surrounding her father. “You can stay here as long as you wish.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t.” Left unsaid was the fact that her fiancé would never stand for the notion of Jacqueline remaining in the home of a man not her father.

  “Of course.” Marcus tipped his head in acknowledgment. Already there were changes to their friendship, a sign of what was to come. “Well, if this is to be our last night dining together—”

  “Marcus—” Jacqueline flinched at the sharp edge of Marcus’ tone.

  “It’s all right,” Marcus said, sofenting his tone. “I understand, honestly, I do. You have to do what is best for you.”

  “I meant what I said. I treasure our friendship and have no intention of letting it go.”

  She believed it. He could see it in her eyes, and for a while it might be true. But eventually, the pressures of society and her husband would weigh in, and Jacqueline would slip further and further away.

  “Either way, I suggest we celebrate with one of my finest bottles of brandy.” He was well stocked, after all. “Come,” he said, rising to his feet and offering Jacqueline his hand. “Let us feast!”

  “This isn’t good-bye,” Jacqueline said, slipping her fingers into Marcus’ hand and allowing him to help her to her feet. “You will not be rid of me so easily.”

  Strolling back into Purgatory after leaving Jacqueline home alone was a lot like marching into enemy territory. For the life of him, Marcus couldn’t figure out why he’d come.

  They’d shared a lovely dinner and evening, Marcus leaving well after his usual hour. The conversation had been stilted at first, slowly giving way to the comfort of friendship—once they got off the subject of marriage.

  Marcus had never been one for marriage, but lately the institution had taken on a menacing quality more suited for the asylum.

  As usual, Purgatory was packed with lost souls not looking to be found or saved. The tables were full, but it was just a matter of time before an unlucky lord
lost his estate, rising from the table only to fall into the poorhouse.

  Marcus joined the game. A moment later, a glass of whiskey appeared at his elbow, the male steward offering him a smile and an invitation. Marcus ignored both.

  “Eddington is here.”

  Devil turned, following Finn’s gaze to a table at the center of the room. Eddington’s attention was focused on the game, ignoring the men and women around him. Quickly, Devil scanned the room, relieved when there was no sign of his wife. “Join the game.”

  “Aye.”

  Devil watched Finn stumble off. Not surprising, the Irishman made a believable drunk.

  Marcus looked over the tops of his cards, watching as Finn approached the table. A tap on the shoulder and one unfortunate player relinquished his seat.

  “O’Sullivan.”

  “Eddington.”

  “Are you sure you’re at the right table?” Marcus accepted his cards but didn’t look at them. Finn was here for a reason, and it wasn’t to play.

  “I’ve got the coin.” Finn made sure to slur his words.

  “Not enough,” Marcus drawled. Reclining in his seat, he stared across the felt-covered table. “Of course, if you had a sponsor, someone to back your play?” The crowd around the table grew quiet. It was considerably rude of him to call a man’s ability to pay into question, but Marcus wasn’t after Finn.

  “I’ll sponsor him, personally.” Devil said, drawn out of the crowd by Eddington’s challenge.

  “Ah, speak of the devil,” Marcus drawled. Here was the man he was looking for.

  “As if he’s never heard that one before.” Finn took his time studying his cards, choosing one carefully before tossing it on the table.

  “And that would make you what? The devil’s advocate?”

  Finn’s snort of laughter was involuntary. “He’s no saint; that’s for sure.”

  “I’ll cover any of Finn’s losses,” Devil reiterated as the game got underway. “Will that satisfy?”

  “Not. Even. Close.” Marcus’ voice was hard, and his eyes locked on Devil’s face. They were no longer talking about cards. He’d known some unscrupulous men in his time. Hell, most of the members of the House of Lords fit into that category. But kidnapping and extortion? That certainly promoted his host to a class all his own.