Poor child, to want to be alone. She had hated spending time by herself, but if the writing belonged to her husband and being around people meant living with that hard-hearted Sir Randolf—
Jackson appeared at the door, looking rather put out. “If you please, my lady, Lord Leamington-Rudney has come and insists upon speaking with you. I’ve suggested to him in the strongest possible terms that you are not at home, for I must say, my lady, I believe he’s in no fit state to speak to you or anybody. Unfortunately he refuses to believe me.”
Thea rose and tucked the book back into its place on the shelf. “Is he drunk?”
“Possibly. Definitely highly agitated. I’ve summoned two of the footmen in case the viscount requires assistance to leave.”
Even before Jackson had finished speaking, Leamington-Rudney shoved his way past the butler into the room. The viscount’s face was unshaven, his hair was unkempt and his clothes rumpled and travel-stained. She could smell the ale and cheroot smoke from where she stood.
“My lady, I must speak with you!” he exclaimed.
Although he looked and smelled as many men did after a long night of drinking and gambling, something she was unfortunately familiar with, Thea realized he probably wasn’t drunk. Exhausted and clearly upset, but not drunk.
“You look ill, my lord,” she said, staying where she was, glad Jackson was there, and even more glad when two tall, broad-chested footmen appeared behind the butler.
“My lord, might I suggest you return another time when you are in a more fit state to converse with Lady Dundrake?” Jackson said.
“She won’t want me to go, not until I tell her what I’ve discovered about her husband and Lady Caroline,” Leamington-Rudney declared while the footmen sidled forward until they stood beside the butler.
An icy pall of dread settled over Thea. “Jackson, please leave us, and take the footmen with you.”
“But, my lady—” the butler began.
“Please,” she insisted.
“We shall be outside the library door should you require us, my lady.”
“Thank you, Jackson.”
When the servants had gone, Thea addressed the viscount. “Now, my lord, what have you to tell me that is so important?”
Leamington-Rudney came closer. “Lady Caroline and your husband are lovers.”
Thea struggled to remain calm and remember who was speaking. “It was my understanding that she had eloped with you.”
“That’s the story he’s spreading, is it?”
“I was told—and not by my husband—that you and Lady Caroline had eloped and presumably gone to Gretna Green. Sir Develin’s in Liverpool.”
“So is she, and while she might have left with me, it was your husband she was going to. After we got to Liverpool, he came there and took her.”
In spite of the fear arising within her, Thea managed to sound composed as she raised an interrogative eyebrow and said, “Took her?”
“He came to the inn where we were staying and they left together, that whore and your husband,” Leamington-Rudney angrily replied. “I should have guessed she was only using me to escape from her parents and get to him, or she wouldn’t have come to my bed so easily.” The viscount frowned mournfully. “And here I was, all ready to offer to marry her, too.”
Thea was sure that was a lie. It was easier to believe the viscount had seduced Caroline into running off with him, expecting her to have faith in his promise of lawful marriage. But like a bad gambler, he was poor at bluffing. That maudlin look on his face was as good as an admission that he wasn’t telling the truth.
And if he was lying about that, was anything he said true?
Emboldened and relieved by that realization, she straightened her shoulders. “If what you say is true, my lord—and I don’t believe for a moment that it is—what do you expect me to do about it?”
The viscount’s watery eyes widened. “I... I...” he stammered.
Thea gracefully swept aside her skirts and sat down. “There’s little a wife can do against a philandering husband unless she wishes to cause an even greater scandal by seeking a divorce. If I did that, what would happen next? How will I live? I have no means of support other than my husband’s, and he would not be likely to offer me anything if I dragged his name through the mud.”
Leamington-Rudney studied her a moment, then sidled closer, like a snake. “If your husband is fool enough to chase after other women, as I assure you he does, you need not suffer from a lack of attention, my pretty lady. What’s sauce for the goose, after all...” he murmured, reaching out for her.
Thea glared at him with disdain. “However my husband or other men may behave, my lord, I will not dishonor myself or my marriage vows with you or anyone else. Now, unless you have more to say to me, please go,” she commanded, raising her arm and pointing at the door.
Leamington-Rudney scowled. “You’re well matched for arrogance, that’s for certain. Very well, I’ll leave you. But you’ve married a heartless blackguard, my lady, and if you ever decide to pay him back in kind, I’ll be waiting.”
“If you think I’m such a woman, you’ll be waiting a very long time.”
With another scowl, the viscount turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
After he was gone, Thea went to the bell pull and was about to give it a firm tug to summon the butler and order the carriage to take her to Liverpool at once, until she remembered the bargain she had made with Sir Develin Dundrake.
Even if the viscount hadn’t lied, even if Dev and Caroline were lovers, or he had some other paramour in Liverpool, she had given him leave to do so. She could not go back on her word now. She couldn’t chase after him and demand that he be faithful to her.
Just as her pride demanded that she not beg for his affection.
Even if her heart was broken.
Chapter Thirteen
Dev trotted up the steps to the back entrance of Dundrake Hall. Although it was still the afternoon, he was bone-tired and not only because of the journey back from Liverpool. It had been wearying keeping Caroline’s spirits up on the way home and even more tiring dealing with the duke, who at least had agreed to see him. The duchess had refused to come downstairs at all. The duke, poor man, had aged a year since the last time Dev had seen him. Fortunately, despite what had happened and as Dev had expected, the duke needed little persuasion to speak with his daughter. When Caroline met her father in the library, she’d tried not to cry, and so had he. That reticence hadn’t lasted long, though, and soon enough they were embracing. Then the duke himself had suggested that he provide Carolyn with a living somewhere in Europe—“Wherever you like, my dear!” In the meantime, while they decided upon the city and subsequent arrangements were made, she could stay in a little cottage on the edge of his estate. “Out of the way of prying eyes and nosy gossips,” her father had added.
He didn’t say “and your mother, too,” but Dev was sure all three were thinking it, and that was for the best as well.
Now that Caroline’s future was settled, he could hardly wait to see Thea. Because he had no more knowledge of her father’s whereabouts than when he’d left, he would say nothing to her of his real reason for going to Liverpool; “business” would have to do. As for whether he would go back to Liverpool or leave the search for information about Sir John to Roger and his men, he had yet to decide.
He opened the door and nearly collided with Jackson. “Sir Develin!” the butler cried with surprise. “We didn’t realize you were expected.”
Dev handed Jackson his hat and gloves and shrugged off his greatcoat. “I wasn’t. Where is Lady Dundrake?”
“Her morning room, sir.”
“We aren’t to be disturbed,” Dev called over his shoulder as he headed that way.
He found Thea standing by
the French doors and looking out at the garden until he called her name. She whirled around, her expression one of surprise and joy—until her smile faded and something like suspicion came to her bright eyes.
But that was not what disturbed him most. He was taken aback by the paleness of her complexion. “Are you ill?”
“No,” she replied calmly as she sat on the nearest chair and folded her hands in her lap. “I trust you had a safe journey home. How is Lady Caroline?”
How the devil did she know he’d been with Caroline? he wondered, taking a seat opposite her. “So you’ve heard what’s happened?”
“I was told Caroline ran off with Lord Leamington-Rudney and not, apparently, to Gretna Green. They went to Liverpool instead.” Her expression changed ever so slightly. “I’ve also been informed that although she ran off with Lord Leamington-Rudney, he was but the means for her to get to Liverpool to be with you.”
“What?” Dev cried, staring at her with disbelief that quickly turned to annoyance. “That’s outrageous!”
“You were with her in Liverpool, were you not?” his wife inquired as if it were nothing to her whether he’d been with Caroline in Liverpool or anywhere else.
“Yes, for a bit, but we didn’t plan to meet.”
Thea’s expression remained just as placid. “If you do have a liaison with Caroline, that is within the bounds of our agreement. All I ask is that you be discreet.”
She sounded as if it were perfectly fine with her if he committed adultery.
To be sure, there had been that provision in their agreement before they wed, but he’d come to believe, to hope, that her feelings for him had changed. Deepened, perhaps even to love.
Yet if she was so quick to think the worst of him, if she could believe so readily that he had a lover, he had to be wrong.
And if that was so, perhaps he was merely the means to a comfortable, secure life after all.
Determined not to show how much her words had hurt him, he managed to reply in that same calm, composed way, “Whether you believe me or not—and I must admit I’m rather surprised to discover you would put so much credence in gossip—I found out Caroline was in Liverpool only by chance. Once I had, however, and learned how she had come to be there and with whom, I resolved to help her if she was willing to accept my aid. For that I will make no apologies and I’m glad she did. Leamington-Rudney hadn’t just seduced and deceived her. He’d beaten her.”
Thea winced. “Then I’m happy she had a champion in you.”
Champion? What did that mean? Whatever Thea meant, he wasn’t about to demean himself by asking, or do anything that sounded like pleading for forgiveness or affection. He wouldn’t display such weakness to his father, and he wouldn’t do it with her. “I was able to convince her to return home with me.”
Thea’s gray eyes widened and her lips turned down in a frown. “You’ve brought her here?”
It was an emotional reaction, at least, if not one that he was pleased to see. “No. She’s staying in a cottage on her father’s estate. The duke is going to send her to live in Europe.”
Once more that look of steely determination came to his wife’s visage. Surely she wouldn’t be sorry that the duke was willing to help his daughter.
“Does she want to go?” Thea demanded. “Or is she being sent into exile even though she’s the one more sinned against than sinning?”
While he was glad Thea’s anger wasn’t aimed at Caroline, clearly Thea had no real understanding of what Caroline would face if she remained in England. “Yes, she agreed.”
“Naturally she would if she had no other choices offered to her.”
“What other choice does she have? She’s the disgraced daughter of a duke. She shared a man’s bed without benefit of marriage. If she stays in England she’ll be snubbed, ignored and subjected to the most lewd sort of speculation. She’ll be considered a whore, available to any man of rank who cares to have her. For her own safety and peace of mind, she should leave the country.”
Thea didn’t look the least bit convinced. “I know what it’s like to be punished and live in disgrace,” she said, “and I wouldn’t wish that upon her, or anyone.”
Dev’s patience frayed. “What do you suggest? That she propose marriage to Leamington-Rudney?”
His wife’s cheeks reddened, but her expression remained resolute. “Never. Never would I counsel any woman to give herself to such a man. And as I said, it should be the viscount who suffers, not her.”
Tired and frustrated, Dev had no wish to continue this pointless conversation. Caroline would find sanctuary in Europe and that would be the end of it. “A life far from here, where no one knows her or the scandal, is Caroline’s best hope for a happy future. Now, my lady, I’m tired and I’m going to change my clothes.”
“A moment if you please, Sir Develin,” his wife said, moving to block his progress toward the door. “If you didn’t go to Liverpool to be with Caroline, why did you go?”
“I had business there.”
“If that business was nothing sordid or shameful, why send your solicitor to tell me where you had gone and then never write to tell me when you would come home?”
“I had neither the time nor the inclination,” Dev replied before he marched from the room and slammed the door behind him.
* * *
After Dev had gone, Thea sat and put her hands to her temples, trying to rub away the ache that had started with her husband’s unexpected return.
If only she’d had some warning he was back, she would have been prepared. Instead she’d felt like a rabbit that sensed danger, freezing and walling off her feelings. She should never have revealed what Lord Leamington-Rudney had said, especially when she couldn’t believe a word out of the viscount’s mouth. Dev was right to be angry about that—but was she not also justified in demanding an explanation for his absence?
Under the terms of their agreement, financial security was to be her reward for marrying him. If that was in jeopardy, if that was why he’d gone to Liverpool, she should know.
It would almost have been better to find out he and Caroline were lovers. At least then she would have an answer.
As for poor Caroline, she’d met other women who had been cast out of their families and forced to fend for themselves after similar mistakes. Too many wound up selling themselves and dulling their pain with cheap gin.
But not Geraldine, the baker’s daughter in London. She’d been jilted the day before her wedding by the butcher’s brother. Instead of slinking about like a wounded dog, she had sued her fiancé for breach of promise and won, getting back every ha’penny she’d spent on the wedding. More than that, people who heard of her success regarded her with respectful awe.
There was an important difference, of course. Geraldine hadn’t spent the night with the butcher’s brother.
But neither was she a duke’s daughter who could afford the best solicitor in London.
Thea might never learn what had sent her husband to Liverpool, but at least she could offer Caroline an alternative to exile.
* * *
It wasn’t easy slipping out of Dundrake Hall the next morning without any of the servants noticing. Thea had to wait until her maid had finished helping her dress and Thea had dismissed her. Only then could she get her new warm and fur-trimmed pelisse from the wardrobe and new bonnet. After making sure none of the maids were in the hall, she’d hurried to the stairs, checked them for the presence of any servants and tiptoed quickly down. A furtive glance into the main hall showed that the footmen, hall boy and Jackson were either finishing their own breakfast or otherwise occupied. Running lightly to the door, she opened it only as wide as necessary and squeezed out into the fresh, damp morning air.
She hesitated a moment there, listening for any sounds that might indicate that Dev hadn’t
already gone on his morning ride. He hadn’t told her he was going to do so; she assumed he was, based on her experience. Last night he’d barely said three words at dinner, as silent and grim as the first days of their marriage. He hadn’t come to her bedroom last night, either, but then, she hadn’t expected him. Not last night.
All was silent, so she gathered up her skirts and made a swift rush around the house and along the hedge at the side of the garden to the wood, heading to that little cottage she’d noticed the other day. Hopefully that would be the one Develin had spoken of in the morning room, where Caroline would be.
The autumn air was thick with the scent of wet foliage, but only from the dew, although that was heavier than she’d expected. Walking quickly, she kept her gaze on the path. Even so, there were a few places she nearly stumbled over a root in her haste. Fortunately it didn’t take her long to reach the cottage, and her brisk pace ensured that she was quite warm.
As Thea drew near, the door of the cottage opened and Caroline, plainly attired in a simple gown, her hair untidily knotted at her neck, appeared, although she was half-hidden by the door. “What do you want?” she demanded.
“To offer you my friendship,” Thea replied, continuing toward her.
The door opened a little wider, revealing more of Caroline’s suspicious expression, as well as a purple bruise and blackened eye marring her pretty face. “Why?”
Thea came to halt a few feet from the cottage. Caroline looked tired and thinner, too, and Thea’s sympathy grew. However, she kept any pity, likely to be unwelcome, from her voice. “Because I wish to.”
“You want to be my friend, do you?” Caroline retorted. “Or have you come here to gloat over my misfortune? Isn’t it enough that you got Develin and I got ruined?”
Caroline might look weary and worn, but there was still a spark of proud defiance in her voice and visage that Thea was glad to see. “No, that isn’t why I’ve come,” she replied, “or to say sympathetic nothings that will not do you any good. May I come in?”
She thought Caroline was going to refuse, but after a moment, the young woman shrugged and said, “Very well,” before moving back inside the cottage.
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