Hayden stirred lemon into his tea. He wasn’t thirsty for tea but for revenge. Tea kept his hands busy when all he wanted was to find the persons responsible for the gossip circulating and wring his hands around their necks good and tight.
“The rest, then. What interested me is where they would have come by that information. Jez’s father is long dead, as are any other living relatives she had.”
“That’s all you have to say? You’re not even questioning the validity of this information?”
Tristan took a sip of his coffee. “What makes you think I would judge her for her parentage, or lack of? Have you forgotten what my children are in the eyes of the ton?”
Hayden gave his friend a scathing look. He’d always been accepting of Tristan’s children. Always, and without question. “The Mayfair Chronicler has been writing about us for the better part of a decade. I wouldn’t put much stock into what they say, though I’d like to hang them out to dry in front of all those they’ve exploited for the sake of their column.”
“Come now,” Tristan drawled. “This writer has been far kinder to us than some of the other more sanctimonious members of society; while some of them have been slaughtered and raked through the coals time and time again, we’ve practically been lauded.”
Hayden drummed his fingers along the table, irritated by his inability to act on this, since he had no one to blame. And Tristan was right for the most part.
“Except for Jez.”
“Which makes me think the Chronicler is a woman,” Tristan said.
That was something worth investigating further, just as soon as Hayden figured out how to deal with the fallout sure to come from the recent scandal tied to Jessica’s name.
“You understand that everyone will turn their backs on Jez permanently for the nonsense printed in the paper. How can you sit across from me as if none of this matters?”
Tristan set his cup down with a clank, the contents spilling over the side and onto the saucer it was set upon. “How little you know me. I’ve already been to see Jez this morning and we had this very conversation. I’ve offered any support she needs, Hayden. Now get off your high horse for a moment and think about remedying this instead of worrying about it. You’re the one who usually finds a solution in these situations. So I recommend you find one.”
Tristan was right; Hayden did need to come up with a plan. The only problem with his idea for salvaging Jessica’s reputation was that she didn’t seem to want to discuss his offer of marriage.
“Jez has to stop avoiding what’s right in front of her,” he said.
“We both know that’s simply her nature.”
His friend couldn’t possibly understand what Hayden was referring to, so he drank down his last bit of tea and stood from the table. He needed to see Jessica before this went any further.
“You want to know how we solve this problem? What it all comes down to?”
Tristan looked amused as he leaned back in his chair, elbow hooked over the high back. “And what is your plan?”
“It’s bloody well time I took a wife.”
Hayden tipped his hat toward his friend, who seemed stunned and confused by the suggestion, for he said nothing—his mouth merely flapped open and closed before settling into a grim line. Hayden spared his friend no further thoughts as he turned and left the club.
There was no better time to confront Jessica than now. The iron was hot, so to speak. They’d be married before the day was through if he could convince her that she had no other choice. Really, she didn’t have a choice in the matter. Everything seemed to have gone to hell in a handbasket quite literally overnight.
* * *
Jessica had been sitting in the morning parlor for the better part of an hour, too stunned to dress herself, too shocked to even begin her day. She fingered the paper Tristan had brought over earlier in the morning.
The woman who has been a blight for too many years to count is in fact of questionable parentage.
“Shun” was too gentle a word for what was about to happen to her. She’d become the lowest form of human being in everyone’s eyes. She would always be unworthy of their notice … beneath their notice.
She could say good-bye to the balls and soirees, good-bye to befriending the society ladies to try to make amends with what little of her reputation remained. Now she had no reputation, which was far worse. She pressed back into the chair, pulling a blanket around her shoulders, unable to even cry about her predicament. Maybe tears would flow once the shock of the situation wore off.
Most of all, she could say good-bye to this house she wanted nothing more than to stay in, despite its awful, unforgiving memories. How long would it be before Warren came barging in and tossed her and her possessions out into the street? He’d want her out immediately, of course. Could she blame him?
Someone knocked at the front door. The hour was far too early for it to be someone of decency. She cinched the tie at the waist of her scarlet Chinese robe and made her way toward the entrance. She would not allow Warren to evict her from her home before the time they had agreed upon. Well, she hadn’t agreed upon any length of time, he’d given her a date, and she’d not let him renege.
Her anger was so palpable that she didn’t bother to check her words before shouting, “If that is Mr. Warren, tell him I’ll have someone tie his balls off before he can so much as scream for his mother.”
Once the door opened, she came to a halt, shocked to find a woman about her age standing on the other side, twisting her fingers together nervously.
Jez knew she looked a dreadful mess; her hair hung in a loose braid that had suffered a fitful night of sleeplessness. She wasn’t dressed decently and had planned on greeting Warren in her current state to scare him off until a more respectable hour, which would give her enough time to pull her thoughts together and think of a reason for him not to throw her out. Her world had already crumbled down around her when she had lost the baby; it was unfair of the universe to press its weight upon her as though she were an annoying bug. She would not be so easily squashed.
“And who are you?” Jessica asked.
The woman gave a slight dip of her head and fidgeted nervously with her hands, as though she never imagined she’d be standing on a pariah’s front porch.
“Miss Camden, my lady.”
Jessica narrowed her eyes, wondering if she was having difficulty placing someone she ought to know. She didn’t think they’d met before, but Jessica often overlooked society’s belles—though this one looked more like a poor relation in her demure navy-colored dress that covered her from neck to toe.
“Do I know you?” Jessica asked.
“No, you don’t. But I know a great deal about you. If you would.” The woman motioned with her hand, silently requesting admittance. “I have a private matter to discuss with you.”
Intrigued by her boldness, Jessica peered over the woman’s shoulder to see if she could identify her by the carriage she arrived in. No such luck there, it was unmarked. Convenient, considering.
“Who sent you?” It felt as though there was some sort of trickery at play.
“I came on my own after learning of your scheme to ruin my cousin’s engagement to Mr. Warren.”
Jessica unceremoniously yanked the woman through the door, slamming it behind them both as she assessed the woman with a clearer understanding.
“Let’s not announce our misdeeds to the world, Miss Camden.”
“They were not my misdeeds,” she had the audacity to point out.
“Where did you come by this information?”
“Barrington told me what you planned.”
“Leo? Why would…” It dawned on her then.
Leo, that rascal!
“Come, we’ll take this to the parlor.”
She led the lady to the comfort of her morning parlor. Most of the curtains were drawn against the morning light—Jessica had felt the need to block out the world after Tristan had left her to her own
devices.
“Please excuse the state of the house. I go from loving and hating it alternately. When I hate it, things are broken, so we’ve left the windows dark today.”
When the young woman didn’t respond, Jessica motioned with her hand toward the settee. “Sit, please. We may be here awhile.” She perched on the very edge, looking uncomfortable as Jez relaxed into the chaise, putting her feet up.
“I only came to ask that you leave my cousin alone.”
First Tristan had come by an hour ago to inform Jessica of her secrets being revealed in the Mayfair Chronicles and now this woman was here begging a favor. What an odd day Jessica had ahead of her if this was how it was to start, and all before a decent hour.
“She’d be better off without Mr. Warren, you know.”
“Whom my cousin should marry is not your decision to make.”
She couldn’t argue with that, considering she hadn’t really elongated her stay in the Fallon household meddling with his impending engagement.
“I’ll be saving her from a long life filled with nothing but misery.”
“Do we even know the same man who is courting my cousin?” Miss Camden frowned. “He’s been nothing but kind.”
Did this woman truly have no idea what kind of man Warren was? Jessica picked her fan up from the table and flicked it open. “They always are in the beginning. It’s how they lure in young, biddable brides.”
“So it’s your cynical nature that led you to the simple decision to change the course of my cousin’s life.”
“Not precisely, but I’m bored with this conversation.” She sat up and leaned closer to her guest. “Now tell me what Leo told you.”
“Why should I? Is it not enough that he’s told me everything? Shouldn’t you feel some sort of regret for your part in this?”
“I feel nothing actually.” Which wasn’t a lie. She’d felt rather numb since Tristan’s visit. She dreaded Hayden’s commentary on the whole debacle of her life. Now that her secret was out, Hayden would want her to clarify the dirty details and it bothered her that she would no longer be able to keep the truth from him.
Miss Camden seemed aghast. “Why did you do it?”
“You don’t know me, Miss Camden. Why would you care what my reasons are?”
“I suppose I don’t need to hear your reasoning. I came because I want reassurance that you’ll leave my cousin alone.”
Jessica perched her elbows on her knees. While she might not know the woman before her and that she’d befriended Leo sometime in the past few months, Jessica knew Tristan quite well. And Tristan was smitten with someone, and she had a very good idea who that young lady might be.
“I have a suspicion that Lady Charlotte won’t need me to persuade her to not marry Mr. Warren.” The orange juice mixed with champagne Jessica had had made not ten minutes before Miss Camden’s arrival was too tempting not to pick up and drink. Today required getting lost in her cups. “Not only is Mr. Warren a complete bore; he’s an imbecile.”
Not a lie. How fascinating that she was being so truthful to this woman she didn’t really know. When the woman stood, Jessica lowered her fan. Would Miss Camden leave her? Jessica didn’t want to be alone, she realized. Alone meant Hayden would be by to press his suit for marriage, which she still wasn’t ready for. Or, worse, Warren would visit her and ask her to leave without delay.
“Have I already frightened you off?” Her voice sounded small even to her. Would Miss Camden find her desperate?
“It does me no good to talk to a brick wall.”
Hand clutched to her chest, Jessica laughed for some time before finally catching her breath. “Calculating, frosty, degenerate, harlot, charlatan, and player. Those are the typical choice words society showers down on me.” She shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever been likened to a brick wall.”
Miss Camden was making her escape, walking toward the exit. “If you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.”
“Don’t let me frighten you off,” Jessica said, her voice cracking. She hoped her desperation was only noticeable to her. And then she remembered who the woman was. “You are the chaperone Hayden mentioned, so I imagine you are needed back at your duties.”
Miss Camden stood proudly tall. “Was … I was the chaperone.”
“Oh, my wicked ears hear a story in the making. What has changed your circumstance?”
“Lord Barrington.”
Now wasn’t this interesting. In all the years Jessica had known Leo, he’d never dared to ruin a lady’s reputation.
“So that is what has occupied my friend’s attention this past month.”
“A ruse, I assure you. One that finally played out in his favor.”
“You have nowhere to go, do you?”
“Does it matter?” The woman was suddenly defensive.
“Perhaps I’m offering a bone.” Setting her drink on the table, she stood. “Don’t you think you should consider nibbling if only to humor me?”
“No.” With a stubborn clasp of her hands, the woman stared steadily at Jessica. “I think it most unwise. I only came—”
“To persuade me onto the righteous, more acceptable, and sanctified path I should be following?”
“No. I only wanted you to leave Charlotte alone. She is my closest family—”
“And yet you’ve been locked out of her life and labeled a harlot.”
“I am no harlot.” The woman took offense. “And I see my time here is wasted.”
She turned on her heel to leave. Jessica couldn’t allow that; she was sure Leo would have her head, and when a woman was in similar need to her she felt an empathy that was completely unlike her. She blocked the woman’s exit.
“Where will you go?” she asked, studying the woman’s tired deep brown eyes.
“Your moral obligation to me is nonexistent. Please, let me by.”
Oh, but Jessica didn’t want to do that, not at all. “Is it hard to believe that I might have changed my ways?”
“I can’t see why.” She recognized a kindred spirit in the way the woman crossed her arms, defiant. “Shouldn’t you be gloating at your achievement?”
“To do so would mean I indulge in life freely. Sad to say, nothing comes free in life. Especially mine.”
“You don’t enjoy a certain amount of freedom then?”
Freedom, she nearly scoffed at the idea. “You should stay. I have so many empty rooms that it would be a shame to not use them before I’m kicked out of my own house.”
She thought Miss Camden would turn her down. And she didn’t know what to say to sway her decision should their meeting end as abruptly as it had begun.
“Are you feeling remorse for putting me into a destitute situation similar to what you find yourself in?” Miss Camden asked.
“Not at all.” Jessica couldn’t hold this woman here against her own free will for long, so she stepped aside. “But I’d like the company and I imagine Leo will come looking for you. And if you are not in my possession, I’ll not know how to locate you.”
“Why should you care?”
“Because Leo is my friend.”
And her friends mattered to her a great deal.
There came a time in everyone’s life when they only had their friends to lean on. It didn’t matter that that had been how most of Jessica’s life had played out. What mattered was that she’d found the best of friends to lean on and she’d support them with the same compassion they’d always shown her.
“And he has remained a devoted friend despite what the rags have printed about me.”
So had Tristan. She was surprised that she hadn’t heard from Hayden yet. Would he believe what was written? Certainly it would dawn on him that Fallon sought divorce on the grounds that she was an imposter. Would Hayden avoid her? More than anything, she had dreaded this secret getting out. How had it gotten out? There were so many questions flying through her head, none of which could be answered.
“Leo’s no better than y
ou.” The woman was speaking in anger, Jessica knew.
“Prejudice is but one form of ignorance, Miss Camden.” She tapped her fingers along her folded arm impatiently. “Now, breakfast is being served in one hour. Shall I ask the cook to prepare two dishes?”
Jessica knew she’d won this woman over when she placed her reticule on a chair.
“There is a carriage outside waiting for my direction. I need to tell him that I’ve found temporary accommodations.”
Jessica motioned toward the door. The woman wouldn’t leave her reticule if she didn’t plan to stay for breakfast at the very least.
Releasing the tie that bound her hair, she shook out the loose braid, hoping she looked more presentable. Though she supposed she should change. No, she would not dress; Warren would not stay long when he saw the state she was in—and that would give her a fighting chance for at least another day.
Miss Camden might prove useful, too, in keeping Warren from being a complete arse. Warren was unlikely to keep a civil tongue, even if he knew the former chaperone. He would no more approve of her guest than of Jessica now that the scandal rags had muddied both their names. Maybe if Miss Camden stayed with her it would delay Warren from removing her from the townhouse for a couple of days. It was a possibility, and one that she was more than willing to test.
It was settled. She had a friend to make of this woman who on first appearance seemed to despise her. Jessica knew she could win her over.
Chapter 15
The duke and the dowager countess? Never could I dream up a more unlikely pair. Or maybe we have all imagined it and it’s always been right before our eyes, but we’ve refused to see anything beyond friendship. All men must be forgiven for their transgressions, for they simply cannot refuse the plump fruit placed directly in their path without first sampling the fare.
Mayfair Chronicles, August 1846
“Wilson.” Hayden greeted the butler with a nod. “I would assume your mistress is in.”
“She is, Your Grace. Let me show you to the study.”
“The study?” Hayden paused to look at the butler.
The Scandalous Duke Takes a Bride Page 16