A Gentleman's Gamble (Devilish Lords Book 3)

by Maggie Dallen

  He really ought to have thought this through.

  “You are married?” Georgie cried loudly. She sounded delighted. The others had all gotten hung up on that fact as well.

  Gathered around him, no one had thoughts of heading to bed, it seemed. Every member of the house party was gathered around him with varying looks of surprise and delight.

  “You and Eliza!” Mary was still shaking her head, her eyes wide with surprise. “I cannot believe she did not tell me.” She fell back on the settee with a sigh. “How very romantic.”

  He shook his head with a low growl. “You seem to have missed the point. Our marriage wasn’t romantic in the least.”

  She smiled over at him and her smile was so reminiscent of Eliza’s rare but life-altering smiles, it made his heart ache fiercely. “But what you did next was romantic,” she pointed out.

  “So romantic,” Claire added, her voice tremulous with tears. He looked over to see her cuddling up to her husband with a look that was so deliriously happy he didn’t have the heart to remind her that the only reason he’d married Eliza in the first place was for money.

  He thought back to that moment in the library when his fierce goddess of a wife had looked so vulnerable and afraid. He supposed some of his motives had been selfless, but certainly not all. And they’d had nothing to do with romantic love.

  All that had come later.

  “What can we do to help?” Anne asked, ever the pragmatist. Her husband looked dark and grim beside her but the former Devil of Davenport reached for her hand and added, “You have our full support.”

  The words meant more to him than he wished to let on.

  He glanced around the room at this small group. For the first time in a long time he saw their support for what it was. Loyalty. Love. He’d been too much of a stubborn, proud fool to see it before, focusing on his own shortcomings and indebtedness rather than being grateful for their unconditional love.

  But seeing Eliza’s father and his response to their marriage put his own family’s loyalty in perspective. Not for the first time, he recognized the truth of Georgie’s admonishment all those weeks ago.

  It was pride he’d been clinging to with his anger toward his brothers-in-law. But his foolish pride had no place here. Not when it came to Eliza.

  He cleared his throat and looked around to each member of the group before admitting, “I do not know what to do next.”

  He was met with such looks of sympathy it was hard to meet their gazes.

  “Because you love her?” Claire said quietly.

  He nodded. He could not bring himself to say it aloud, not because he was uncertain but because he meant those words to be heard by Eliza before anyone else.

  “Do you think she feels the same?” That was Mary. The look on her face was slightly more guarded. Protective, he realized. She was worried about her sister, and he could not blame her.

  “I hope so,” he said. “But I do not know for certain.”

  Georgie straightened. “We can help you, I’m sure of it.”

  He looked to her, her youthful face so very optimistic as always. “How?”

  Some of her enthusiasm waned as she clearly sought an answer. She turned to her husband who hovered over her chair and reached for his hand. “Surely you can help, Rhys. You’re a duke, after all.”

  Jed was almost certain the stodgy old duke’s lips twitched in what may have been a smile. “My dear, not even dukes can make a person fall in love.”

  Georgie gave her husband a mischievous smile. “Can’t they?” she teased. “You did remarkably well winning me.”

  Now he did smile and the sight was so shocking it nearly startled Jed out of his senses. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Yes, well….” He turned away from the sight of that particularly loving couple only to find himself facing two others. “I don’t need help making her fall in love. That is very much up to me, I’m afraid.”

  “You need help getting access to her,” Mary said.

  When he looked over he was struck again by the similarities between this young woman and his wife. But this time it wasn’t her smile but the quick intellect behind those pretty eyes of hers. How had he never noticed that Mary was intelligent?

  Oh hell, it was time to admit that he had not seen many things. Perhaps he was the biggest fool here, but he aimed to remedy that soon enough.

  “You need to find a way to speak to her in private,” Mary continued. “And I think I can help with that.”

  “Oh yes,” Georgie added. “Mary is ever so clever when it comes to managing her sister.”

  For the first time since he’d arrived, he started to feel hopeful. “Do you think you can get her alone so I can explain myself?” And beg her for a second chance? He left out that particularly humiliating statement. There was humble and then there was pathetic. He’d prefer not to be the latter.

  Mary nodded. “I am sure of it. If Eliza is distraught, which I’m certain she is, there is only one person she will turn to in London.”

  “Henri,” Georgie guessed.

  “Yes, she’ll turn to Henri,” Mary said with a definitive nod. “And once I explain your situation, I am certain Henri will help us as well.”

  Jealousy rose up in him so quickly he nearly couldn’t contain it. “Who in the bloody blazes is Henry?”

  All right, so perhaps he didn’t contain it after all.

  Mary blinked at him, amusement making her eyes glitter with barely-concealed laughter. “Henrietta Bloomfield,” she explained. “She is Eliza’s dearest friend and confidante.” She looked to Georgie with a grin. “And luckily for us, she lives to scheme.”

  Chapter Nine

  It seemed like ages before Eliza could bring herself to leave the house, and when she did she walked the streets warily, uncertain whether she wished to run into Jed or whether she hoped never to see him again.

  Her lady’s maid was silent at her side as she approached Henrietta’s door.

  Eliza was conflicted, a state she rather abhorred. Though agonizing over that conundrum seemed preferable to contemplating the depressing state of her future. At least when she agonized over Jed, she had happy memories to cling to, though these days they were bittersweet.

  He’d stopped coming ‘round the house, for which she was grateful, though she rather missed hearing his voice at the door. She felt for him, she truly did. She was quite certain that he did have an explanation as he’d shouted so frequently. And she had no doubt that he did feel regret and guilt, and that made her heart ache on his behalf.

  He was a good friend, solid and true, just as she’d come to believe.

  She wished she could tell him that. Knowing Jed, he would be berating himself mercilessly for choosing family over her…or at least, that was what she assumed happened.

  That was what she chose to believe when she saw his signature on the annulment papers her father had forced into her hands.

  A footman let Eliza into Henrietta’s home, and when her friend entered the salon to greet her, it was with a smile so filled with sympathy and sadness she nearly burst into tears at the sight of it.

  She did not, but she came close.

  Her friend’s warm embrace and murmurs of “you poor dear” further impressed upon Eliza a belief she’d long suspected. Henri Bloomfield was psychic. How else did she know that Eliza was in such dire straits?

  “Tell me everything,” Henrietta said after they were both seated with teacups in their hands. Her expression was abnormally grim, and her eyes were filled with that intimidating gleam that said Henrietta was ready to scheme.

  Eliza let out a long, weary sigh. Normally that look would hearten her, but this time… this time not even her friend and ally could help. Still, she told her everything, from the moment she’d arrived at Roxborough Manor—Lord, had it only been a fortnight?—to the other morning when she’d had her last call from Jed and had sent him packing.

  When she was done she stared down into her tea.

 
She never had liked tea, it was far too bitter. She supposed she could add sugar, but that somehow seemed to be cheating. Tea was bitter and there was no altering that. Rather like her personality, she supposed. She was who she was and there was no changing it.

  For a little while there, she’d seen herself as something different than what she’d long assumed. She’d felt changed. Being with Jed had felt like some sort of miraculous transformation. Something out of the storybooks, where a peasant becomes a princess or some such nonsense.

  She’d felt beautiful when she was with him. More than that, she’d felt worthy. Seen. As though there were more for her to offer the world than standing on the sidelines. She’d felt as though she had more to contribute, more to give, more to love…

  She did not say any of that, of course. It was difficult enough to sit there under Henrietta’s watchful stare, knowing that she saw more than Eliza was willing to share.

  Sometimes it was disarming having a friend with such keen insight.

  “You must hate him,” Henrietta said softly.

  Eliza’s head snapped up. Apparently not that keen.

  “Of course I don’t hate him, Henri.” She frowned at her friend. Maybe Henrietta’s psychic senses were off today. She did seem abnormally on edge as she peered at Eliza over the rim of her cup, draining the tea in one go.

  “Jed has been a good friend to me these past two weeks,” she added.

  Henrietta shifted, setting down her cup with a loud clink. “A friend,” she repeated, as though the word were a foreign one.

  “Yes.” Her tone came out too defensive. But this was a topic she’d thought about long and hard these past few days and the answer was always the same. “Jed is a friend.”

  He was so much more than a friend, she supposed, but she had yet to come up with a word for him.

  Husband, maybe?

  Her lips twitched upward in the start of a rueful smile at the thought but she killed the movement before it could truly begin.

  He would not be her husband for much longer. Now that the papers had been signed, it was only a matter of time before her brief marriage’s dissolution would be complete. It was as good as done.

  And it was all happening so heartbreakingly fast. Her marriage might have been in name only, but she mourned the loss of it, crying into her pillow at night like the softhearted fool she’d become.

  She blamed Jed for that. But even in that it was difficult to hold onto her anger. For while he might be partially to blame for these new sensations, they had not all been bad.

  She shifted on the settee and steered her mind back to this moment. She had all the time in the world to explore the strange awakenings her former husband had brought on. But now was not the time.

  “So, you do not hate him?” Henrietta probed.

  Eliza tilted her head to the side as she analyzed the question. Or rather, she analyzed the feelings it stirred up inside of her. And though there was a veritable stew of conflicting emotions going on inside her at any given moment these days, this was one question she could answer decisively.

  “No,” she said. And then to her surprise she added, “I wish I did.”

  Henrietta’s eyes widened and Eliza tucked her chin, sipping at her tea despite the fact that the bitterness made her stomach roil.

  She should have known that Henrietta would not drop the topic so easily. A shared trait in their friendship was the tendency to be dogged, particularly once their interest was piqued.

  “But he betrayed you,” Henrietta said.

  Eliza froze, her gaze unwavering from the brown substance in her cup as if the tea leaves at the bottom might be capable of quelling this sudden and debilitating pang of sadness. But even through the ache that she chose not to analyze, she found herself defending the man who had been so kind to her for a fortnight.

  A man who had made her feel cherished and special and funny and smart and yes, even beautiful. Poppycock, all of it, but she would forever be grateful for those memories. They would be something to cling to in the cold days ahead.

  She forced herself to meet Henrietta’s inquisitive gaze. But he betrayed you. The words seemed to hang in the air between them.

  There was no denying it. Jed had fled; he had left her on her own. For the millionth time she struggled to hate him. She honestly wished she could sometimes, it would likely make this heartache easier to mend.

  But she could not. Because now she knew Jed and it was that knowledge that gave her voice conviction. “He would not have left if he had any other choice.”

  “You seem quite certain of that,” Henrietta said quietly.

  She nodded. “I am. Jed would never willingly hurt me. He must have had his reasons.”

  Her father was at the root of it, and all her anger was focused on him. He’d threatened Mary, his own daughter, so what would keep him from threatening one of Jed’s siblings?

  Nothing.

  She wouldn’t even put it past him to threaten physical harm, if that’s what her father thought it would take to make Jed walk away. Eliza shook her head once more. “No, I do not blame Jed.”

  “Yet you refuse to see him,” Henrietta said quickly.

  Too quickly.

  Eliza’s gaze met her friend’s. She hadn’t told Henrietta about Jed’s visits to her doorstep. She’d kept that to herself, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. “How do you know that, Henri?”

  Henrietta did not look embarrassed—Eliza wasn’t certain she’d ever seen Henrietta express such a triflingly insecure human emotion. But her lips did purse in an odd manner, as though she’d added too much lemon to her tea.

  “Your sister sent me a note,” Henrietta said. The way she picked her words carefully set Eliza on edge, the mention of her sister even more so.

  “Mary? Why? What did she say?” Truth be told, Eliza hadn’t had the heart to reach out to Mary. She did not want to burden her with their father’s cruelty and she liked to think that as long as Mary stayed at a duke’s manor in the country she would be safely out of his clutches.

  But it had occurred to her that her sister must know by now that something was amiss since their original plan had Eliza and Jed returning to Roxborough Manor by now to reveal their ruse and ask for their family’s blessing. Belatedly, of course, but neither of them had wished to alienate the Clevelands or Mary.

  Long seconds passed and Henrietta did not answer. Her gaze, if Eliza was not mistaken, was nearly…wary.

  When had Henrietta ever been wary around her? Unease had her leaning forward, clutching her friend’s arm. “Is she all right, Henri? Is Mary in trouble?”

  “No, no, of course not.” Henrietta shook her head and seemed to shake off her uncharacteristic demeanor.

  “Then why did she write?”

  Henrietta cleared her throat. “She had a favor to ask…”When Henrietta hesitated, Eliza grew nervous once more.

  Henri never hesitated.

  “Henri, just tell me, for goodness’ sake,” Eliza said, her voice too sharp, but her friend knew her well enough to ignore that. “What did the missive say?”

  Henrietta’s lips twitched slightly and her eyes held a hint of mischief. “It is less important what the message says than who she sent as a messenger.”

  Eliza blinked at her for a moment. “Bloody hell, Henri, stop the cryptic remarks and tell me what Mary said.”

  “Hello, Eliza.” The deep male voice from the doorway had her bolting out of her seat in surprise. Spinning around she saw Jed in the doorway looking like he’d been sent from heaven above. Or perhaps he’d just stepped out of her dreams.

  He looked like fresh air and sweet temptation and understanding conversations and…

  Oh hell, he looked bloody handsome.

  “What are you doing here?” It came out far breathier than she’d intended but he heard her.

  Taking two steps toward her, he held his hands up, palms out. “Is it safe to enter?”

  She blinked at him, her world had appa
rently flipped upside down. For the life of her she couldn’t understand anything. Nothing at all. Too many questions flooded through her at the sight of him approaching. How are you? Where have you been? What did my father do to you? Why did you leave me?

  Instead she blurted out the one that had her frowning at his upheld hands. “Why are you approaching me like I am a wild animal?”

  He grinned and the sight of that radiant smile made her want to throw herself in his arms. She clenched her fists to remain where she was even though her heart seemed to try and leap at him without her.

  “I must admit, I was expecting something to be thrown at me when I entered.” He dropped his hands, apparently reassured that she wouldn’t attack.

  The words registered, their meaning clicked. Something inside her shifted and disappointment flooded through her. “Ah yes,” she murmured, licking her lips as she forcibly reminded herself that in a relatively short amount of time he would not be her husband. He would be nothing to her, maybe not even her friend. After all, they had nothing to tie them together any longer. She drew in a deep breath and met his steady gaze. “You are here to apologize, I assume.”

  His smile faded but the laughter in his eyes did not. “Still as blunt as ever,” he said. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

  She fought against the painful clenching in her belly at his use of the word. Love. Only a man with such an easy, open, generous heart could use that word so casually. He did not mean anything by it and she refused to read too much into it. Instead she shrugged, “It has not even been a week since I saw you last. Hardly enough time for my personality to change completely.”

  “No, I suppose not,” he said, his lips twitching with mirth. “And I am glad of it.”

  She let out a short huff of laughter despite their circumstances. “You are the only one.”

  “Anyone who doesn’t appreciate you is a fool,” he said.

  She swallowed a thick lump in her throat. He was being kind, nothing more. It meant nothing. “What are you doing here, Jed?” The words came out on a shaky breath. She’d been enjoying this odd ease. The comfort she always felt in his presence. But a part of her did not want to let herself revel in that, not when it was just a reminder of all she could not have.