9781618859594HerDeviantLordPimentel

by Layna Pimentel

  How could he? This is my right. Anger rippled through her that Bastian had taken the choice away from her. “How could you!”

  “My dear, I was only thinking of you. The child could use a little separation from you now, and I do not mean to imply a permanent independence. I only speak in the way that you and I can spend some time alone. Cedric is arranging to have Matthew’s furniture delivered as we speak.”

  No sooner had his words quieted then a nursemaid entered the suite and retrieved the baby, leaving her to thoughts of how she would punish him so. She disliked being cross at him, however, Bastian had crossed the line with his interference. She had no intention of them staying in town this long. How could she even begin to ask him to leave this all behind?

  He would never leave his wealth and position to be with her and his illegitimate son. She could not believe she had even considered the thought. How foolish. Foolish indeed. A man of his fortune and nobility would never give anything up for a woman.

  The thought pained her, so much so that she could feel the tears well up in her eyes. Cordelia stepped back and attempted to leave the room, but as soon as she turned he had caught her by the waist.

  “Where do you think you are escaping to, my love? I have waited far too long to see you again, and now that we are alone, you are departing.”

  Cordelia sighed, silently praying to blurt out the words. “Bastian…we…Matthew and I…cannot stay.”

  “I beg your pardon?” He turned her, ensuring that their gazes met. “Cordelia, whatever do you mean? I thought that we could make our situation…permanent.”

  How desperately she desired that, but with the small matter of her husband being the obstacle, how could they even begin to make the prospect more than fiction? She loved Bastian with all her heart, but they could never live in harmony in London whilst her husband still survived.

  “And pray tell, how exactly do you suppose we will accomplish the herculean task of making this permanent. My husband is still alive. His title was revoked, and all that was mine is gone. Save only for the child that I bore out of wedlock.”

  “Barely, woman. Richard is barely alive. We shall see him on the morrow and put an end to this madness. You cannot mean to leave me again. I shall not stand for it. I would rather die at the hands of the enemy than let you turn your back on us. Our love. The possibility of our happiness. Do not do this, Cordelia. I implore you!”

  The world spun around her whilst she tried to find the words to express her dismay. Surely, he could find it in his heart to forgive her. “I am not sure paying my husband a visit on his death bed is advisable, my lord. If he is ailing from some disease that is contagious, I do not want to pass it along to my only son.”

  “Sweetheart, Matthew will be the first of many other sons we shall have. Now, come here. We shall settle this nonsense now, so I can get back to being greedy with my future countess.”

  “Shh! Do not speak such things. It is a bad omen to speak of things in haste.”

  He tsked her and shook his head. “When did you become the superstitious type, Cordelia? I only speak of the truth. After the great moment when the devil takes your husband for all his lust, greed, and sloth, we shall be free to pursue our endeavor.”

  Cordelia sighed with defeat. Exasperated and slightly relieved, she fell into his arms. How things go that so bad, right themselves.

  * * * *

  Bastian laced up her stays and fought viciously to keep himself from ripping the bodice away from her. To let it fall at her feet, bend her forward until her chest rested against the vanity, and take her vigorously from behind. Every time the demmed woman’s hips swayed, his cock grew thick and hard. Unfortunately for him, and lucky for her, he had errands to run and business to conduct.

  He dipped his head into the crook of her neck. “Mmm…you smell divine, Cordelia. What did you put on?”

  “I am not sure. I put on what was left on the table there.”

  Bastian snickered. It warmed him, knowing the staff was becoming accustomed to having a mistress here. Alongside the fact that he had not seen them about, and when he did, they were in one way or another occupied with Matthew.

  He pressed his lips to the soft skin of her shoulder and ran his fingers down the length of her arms. “I know there is much to do before we see Richard, but I think we can steal a few more moments of the day for personal gratification, sweetling.”

  Cordelia turned to face him, placed a kiss on his cheek, and stepped out of the space. She walked toward the armoire and opened it to find a few gowns already hanging. A gasp escaped her lips, and when she turned to face him again, tears rimmed her eyes.

  Bastian closed the distance again, pulling her into his arms. Everything was so right between them. He could not imagine his life without her. “Hush, sweetling. There is nothing I would not do for you. For as long as we are together, you and our son will not want for anything.”

  She sniffled into his chest. It excited him to see her so vulnerable. “Very well, I shall ravish you later. Let us get you finished here, so that we may enjoy a bit of breakfast before the day starts.”

  He observed her pull out a dark bombazine dress and press it against herself. “Do you think this will suit?”

  “It is certainly dark enough that once we are outdoors, no one could tell who you are. Besides, you have a black evening cloak that will keep you well disguised.”

  “If you say so, my love. If I may be so bold…”

  “Certainly, sweeting, speak freely.”

  “Well, at first, while I thought seeing Richard would bring some closure, I am not entirely sure it will now. The ton is on the cusp of discovering my return from my dead. How do you think the denouncement of his title will affect my status, and that of our sons’? That is, once they learn I had a child out of wedlock during my absence.”

  Cordelia’s concern tugged at his heart. He wanted to assure her that her visit would go fine, but he had not the slightest idea as to why the former duke would want to see his wife one last time. Her worry about the ton lashing out at her was partially accurate, though he would never permit any harm to come to his family.

  “My love, all of us I suppose, in the end, want to free ourselves from the truth. His truth being that he did some horrible things. The man probably had no designs for you in the first place. I suspect that is all he wishes to discuss. I mean to say that he was probably only after your dowry if his recent actions are any indication of what his motivations have been all along.”

  He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Now go and get dressed, and try not to worry so much. There is still time before we head out to Newgate.”

  Bastian waited by the door as she finished dressing. When they descended the stairs, a pounding at the door raised their alarm. Cordelia stopped behind him and clung to his waist.

  “Do not worry about a thing, my dear, Cedric will ensure whoever it is goes away. Right, Cedric?”

  But before Cedric could even open his mouth, Mary Elizabeth came barrelling in through the front doors, seething in anger.

  “What in damnation are you doing here, woman?”

  Mary Elizabeth, in her fury, stared in horror at the woman hiding behind him.

  “You have no business here, woman. Our very short affair ended some time ago, and you go too far this time. Get out!” he roared with displeasure. “Get out and never return to this house, or appear in my presence.”

  She ran out shrieking like a banshee, and after a few moments, there was silence.

  He turned to Cordelia, wiping a runaway tear. “My dear, head on back upstairs, and I will have breakfast brought to you.” However, before he could even turn his head, the shouting in the street caught their undivided attention.

  “The duchess is alive. Alive, I say. The Duchess of Downsbury was never dead!”

  Bastian ran down the stairs in all haste. “Cedric, grab that infernal woman, and gag her if you must. I want her tossed in my carriage. Get it ready. I am goin
g to put an end to this madness immediately.”

  Bastian glared at the housekeeper, who held Matthew in her arms. “See that your mistress receives her breakfast in our bedchamber. After that display, it will be a miracle if she even leaves to visit that wretched wastrel of a man tonight.”

  The portly woman nodded and scurried away with his son. Now to end this, once and for all.

  * * * *

  “What in God’s name is the matter with you, Mary Elizabeth?””

  The cyprian snorted with contempt. “And you choose a disgraced duchess over me. Have you not had enough of scandal, Bastian? I know not of what malady you suffer, as your thoughts do not seem to make an ounce of sense.”

  “What I do, and who I choose to be with, is of no blasted concern of yours. When will you learn that you go too far? This last event will surely end your employment. I cannot, and will not, have Cordelia’s name dragged through the mud, any more than it has been.”

  “And pray tell, sir, how do you intend to end my employment?”

  Surely, she jests. Does she not yet gather that we are headed back to Martine’s establishment? No man or woman was safe, with the extremes she had gone to today. “Soon, my dear, you will learn my meaning.”

  A few minutes later, they arrived at the lone house on the lane. The same old, burly man greeted them, holding open the front door. Inside, another gent joined them with one of the house wenches. Mary Elizabeth tried to pry out of his grip, but instead, he passed her to the man. “See that she does not leave this room, nor your sight. I have an important matter to discuss with your mistress. Bring her forth this instant.”

  The air around him was electric. He was in the mood for a fight, and he would not back down until Martine came to a resolution as to what she planned on doing with the unruly courtesan.

  “What is the meaning of all this noise, Lord Wycliffe?”

  “One of the girls you employ. You should already know my meaning.”

  “I most certainly do not, sir. Come into my office for a moment.”

  Bastian followed the madam into a side room, which already had a guest. Lord Chalcroft sat rigidly and cross when he entered the room.

  “Have a seat, my Lord. It would appear that both of you have complaints regarding my girls, and I wish to resolve this at once. Lord Chalcroft, as you were here first, what is the issue?”

  “The issue,” he coughed and said hoarsely, “Is that I wish to terminate my contract with that bloody wench I paid for. The demmed chit is never where she is supposed to be, and when she is, she is a terrible bore.”

  Madame Martine lowered her eyes to a piece of parchment and pursed her lips. Her attention then focused on him. “Lord Wycliffe, what seems to be your problem? I seem to recall you terminated your services and interest with my house a little while back.”

  “My concern is Mary Elizabeth. The vexed minx knows not how to take no for a bloody answer. I do not want her in my life, and I will not tolerate this level of harassment.”

  Lord Chalcroft rose and bellowed, “You mean to tell me, that blasted wench has had her sights on him this entire time? And you still drew up a contract to saddle her on me?”

  The madam scowled, licked her lips, and tore up the parchment she reviewed. “Will that satisfy your ire, Lord Chalcroft?” The fat bastard only grunted and left the room, muttering oaths under his breath. “As for you, Lord Wycliffe, I have not the slightest idea about what you expect me to do.”

  “Then allow me to make this clear for you. We, men, pay a great deal of money for the utmost discretion. And you, madam, have employed a woman who cannot keep her lips sealed. Take care, as I will only speak of this once. The former Duchess of Downsbury has returned, miraculously, and thank goodness she is alive and well. While it is not known what condition the duke is in at the moment, Mary Elizabeth went screaming out into the street after barging into my home, telling everyone she saw that her ladyship was alive.”

  The woman sighed and now clasped her hands.

  “You must understand, under the circumstances, I cannot permit her actions to go unpunished. Either you do something, or I shall have her arrested for harassment. Decide now, as I have other appointments to attend to.”

  She grimaced and put her hands up in defeat. “Bear with me a moment, my lord. This is the first time in all the years I have been in this profession that I have ever been faced with this decision. I am no fool as to why discretion is required, but I will ask you not to involve any runners. I cannot have my establishment compromised.”

  Rising from her seat, she walked toward the door, opened it, and motioned a henchman forward. “Please remove Mary Elizabeth’s belongings from her room and have Ansen escort her off the property. Seeing as her wages were paid not two days ago, there is no need for compensation.”

  Madam Martine left the door open and returned to her seat, facing him. “Will that do, my lord?”

  Relief washed over Bastian. Never in his life had he ever experience the need for blood as he did just now. “Yes, it will.”

  Bastian rose and was nearly out the door when the madam called him back. “Just one more thing, my lord.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Mary Elizabeth is quite the headstrong chit. If she continues to pursue this fascination with you, you will have to employ a runner. She is not my responsibility any longer.”

  He nodded, and strode out of the house, never looking back or giving it another glance.

  Chapter Eight

  Cordelia fought back the urge to weep as she and her companion followed a guard down the dank, dark corridor. Bastian had squeezed her hand, reassuring her that he was nearby, yet nothing could dull the anxiety that chipped away at her soul.

  In a few minutes, she would face the man who had written her off as dead, and even in the eyes of scandal, tried to marry a woman who was already married. A man who was charged, found guilty of crimes, and consequently stripped of his title.

  At this point, the mere fact she that did not possess a farthing to her name as a result of his idiocy did not matter. She was here at his request, and with any luck, she would not be in his presence very long. The faster she left this insidious building, she, Matthew, and Bastian, could return to a normal life.

  The guard stopped outside the door where another gentleman waited to speak to them. “My lady, allow me to introduce myself. Henry Winchester, your husband’s solicitor. Shall we enter?”

  Cordelia looked back at her love and frowned. “Dear, would you terribly mind if you waited outside?”

  “Not at all, my love. If you have need of me, only call out my name or have Richard’s solicitor come for me.”

  Then, Cordelia turned and entered the cell. It was dimly lit, and the putrid scent of illness lingered. She lowered the hood to her cloak and sat in a chair next to the ailing duke. She waited in silence until Richard finally spoke.”

  “So fickle fate is, that she would present me with my wife, who is supposed to be dead. Tell me, Cordelia, did you think of me often?”

  She desperately tried not to choke on her spit. The nerve he has. “No. I did not, Richard. I thought of you as much as you did I.”

  He snorted, which was followed by a string of dry heaving coughs. His skin, even in the poor light, was discolored. Death would follow him soon, yet not soon enough. “Yes, of course, how I could I expect anything less? I am certain, though, you probably found some confounded village servant to make use of in the meanwhile.”

  “What I have done while I was presumably deceased is not of your concern. To the world, I was dead, and that time was mine alone. Alone, you wretched fool! How many women did you fornicate with and then condemn to a foreign brothel?”

  “Bah!” he choked. “I did not request your presence to argue. Quite frankly, I am looking forward to be released from this hell into the hands of death. Only then, will I truly have my peace and silence.” Richard nodded to his solicitor, who then came forward and handed her a note.r />
  Cordelia blinked and whispered to the man, “What is this?”

  “Open it, if you will, my lady.”

  She obliged and read on. Then, her mouth dropped, and she whipped her head back to her husband. “Richard… What is the meaning of this? This was part of my dowry. You cannot tell me that you did not use this money, nor sell off my family’s estate.”

  He grumbled beneath his breath, and tried to talk. Cordelia leaned forward to hear what the man had to say. “I could not bring myself to touch something that belonged to someone as cold and unfeeling as you, Cordelia. From the first moment I brought you home, you were nothing but trouble. Is it any wonder that we never had children? Ah! Yes. I know why. Because coming home to bed you was such a task.”

  He coughed some more, but nothing could hold back her tears. He had finally admitted his disdain for her, and it could not have had worst timing. Fighting back the urge to yell and draw too much attention to her visit with him, she righted herself and gained composure.

  “While we are on the subject of revelations, I suppose I shall grace you with one last slice of knowledge before you depart your foul and hateful existence. I was pregnant once, by you. But I lost the child in my second month. I am thankful we were never blessed with such a precious gift as such. I was, however, blessed to have the Earl of Wendelhem’s son nine months ago, so what do you have to say for yourself now?”

  The man looked positively ill and ready to croak. “Get. Out.” he sputtered.

  “Gladly, my lord. I hope you rot.”

  “Let me see you out, my lady.” The solicitor offered his arm.

  “I am quite capable of seeing myself out. Goodbye, Richard.”

  By the time she reached the cell door, he was gasping for air. The guard rushed in. “Shall we call for the physician?” the solicitor queried.

  “What for? The man is dead,” the tall, young guard said with glee. “Looks like I won this bet.”

  Cordelia didn’t bother looking back. She kept pace until she found Bastian seated down the hall at a guard’s desk.