“But you don’t love her,” George objected. “She cares for me.” Aidan would have protested his statement, but the viscount quickly interjected, “Under the circumstances, one would think you’d do the decent thing and press for an annulment. You haven’t sullied her, have you?” he asked in afterthought, surprising Aidan.
Justin’s eyes narrowed. Although he felt he’d owed the man an explanation and an apology, he was quickly becoming annoyed with the viscount’s demands, as well as his tactless queries. “The request for such has been denied.”
“A divorce, then,” George stated.
“Unlikely,” Justin replied firmly.
“But she cares for me, not you!” George insisted. “Tell him, Aidan. Tell him, darling.”
Aidan could only gape at the man. What she felt for George, at the moment, was pity, nothing more. He appeared to be on the brink of an emotional collapse, and her heart went out to him, for she knew it had been her fault that he believed her feelings ran much deeper. Perhaps if she explained that she thought of him only as a friend, he would then accept it as so and put any thoughts of her loving him to rest. “George, I care deeply—”
“There, you see! She’s just confirmed it!” Again Aidan would have denied George’s mistaken utterances, but the man’s insistent words overrode any cry of protest she was about to make. “Aidan was to be my wife. Why won’t you release her to me?”
Upon having heard Aidan’s words, Justin felt an emotion he could only deem as raging jealousy streak through him; the foreign feeling infuriated him. Suddenly all his anger over what had transpired in the last two weeks unleashed itself upon George Edmonds. “The key word here, George, is ‘was.’ You seem to forget you put Aidan in my care.” He pulled Aidan away from George’s side and placed her behind him, intending to deal with her later. “Had you not been so concerned over your father’s musty old house and shown a bit more interest in your forthcoming marriage, you would not be standing here now, acting the injured party. If anyone can be considered the wounded fool in this entire farce, it’s me, not you!”
Justin heard Aidan’s incensed gasp, but he ignored it. “Remember, George, since the matter of our marriage is no one’s concern, except Aidan’s and mine, I suggest you quell any further notions you may have about meddling in it. She is under my protection. And as her husband, under my rule. The only one who holds any claim to her is me,” he said, his cold eyes threatening as he unknowingly backed the cowering viscount up against the stone balustrade. Justin felt Aidan’s tug on his sleeve, but he shook her off. “Keep far away from her, George, or you shall be the recipient of my full-blown ire. And I can assure you, friend, that is something you would not wish on anyone, least of all yourself.”
Throaty laughter sailed through the air, drawing everyone’s attention; Aidan turned to see Cynthia Danvers not more than two yards away. “Really, Justin,” the blond said, swaying seductively up to the object of her words. With Aidan’s and Justin’s attention on the newcomer, George saw his chance and escaped back into the house. “I had thought we had come out here to find a quiet place where we might … uh, talk,” Cynthia interjected, “not for you to cause a scene.”
Aidan watched as Cynthia placed her hand on Justin’s chest, but then, of course, the woman was his mistress. For some unexplained reason, the knowledge infuriated Aidan.
Justin’s own hand caught the wandering appendage and removed it from his chest. “Go inside, Cynthia. I need to have a private word with Aidan.”
The blond turned assessing eyes on the young woman in question; then a long sigh escaped her lips. “As you wish. But don’t be long.” She turned and glided off toward the door.
Through narrowed eyes Aidan watched the alluring swing of the blond’s hips and realized it was meant to entice Justin into following after her. The brazen hussy, Aidan thought, her fury rising. For someone who’s said he wanted to protect his new bride from the gossips, he certainly had a strange way of showing it! Parading his mistress onto the balcony, in full view of his peers, was bound to create a flurry of insinuation. Was the man so dense not to realize it would? Or perhaps his overzealous libido had stunted his thought processes. The lecherous rogue!
While Aidan fumed over what was and was not considered proper conduct for a man of her husband’s station, Justin’s fiery gaze pinpointed itself on her. His anger flared anew as he remembered coming upon his wife and George Edmonds. Seeing her hands pressed to Edmonds’s chest, her lovely face upturned to the viscount’s, then hearing the pleading quality of her voice, the content of her words obscured by the distance between his bride and himself, had set him off. He’d instantly dropped Cynthia’s arm and stridden the dozen or so steps toward the pair, before he’d realized he’d done so.
Now, as he gazed down at her, Justin attempted to convince himself that his immediate rage resulted from his wife’s rebellious actions. All that he’d striven to accomplish tonight by attending the Staffords’ ball with Aidan on his arm, his warm smiles meant only for her, hoping to keep the gossips at bay, had been done for naught. “I had thought,” he said coldly, drawing Aidan’s attention, “we had agreed to play the part of devoted newlyweds. Might I ask what inspired you to escape into the night with Edmonds sniffing at your skirts? Have you any idea at all the round of conjectures your actions may have produced?”
Aidan bristled at his accusing tone. “While I was waiting for you, George suddenly appeared,” she retorted in defense. “You may confirm that with Eugenia, for she was also there. I felt I owed George the courtesy of an explanation as to why I am married to you and not him. Had you stayed by my side, instead of traipsing off with the excuse of getting us some refreshments, we both could have explained to him what had gone wrong.”
Justin snorted. “Don’t fool yourself. George would never have approached you with me there.”
“Perhaps not. But just the same, he deserved to be told the truth.”
“Since he’s been informed of the circumstances, you’ll not have any further need to speak with him. Henceforth, you’ll shun all contact with him. Understood?”
Aidan did not answer immediately. Why, she wondered, was she expected to keep away from George—which she was willing to do of her own accord—while he was allowed the luxury of cavorting publicly with his mistress? “Since we are on the topic of explanations,” Aidan said in a sarcastically sweet tone, “would you please tell me why you feel you have a right to condemn me for supposedly causing a stir, when you’ve obviously created one yourself by sauntering out onto a darkened balcony with a woman who’s known by all to be your mistress? It seems, sir, that’s rather like the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn’t you agree?”
Justin gazed at her a long moment, then released his breath. “Cynthia approached me while I was waiting in line for our refreshments. Since I feared she’d make some sort of scene, I opted for a more private place for her to do so,” he stated truthfully, but Aidan would have none of it.
“Refreshments? Ha! No doubt the only refreshments you went after were those which would instantly satisfy your rutting lusts!” she accused in a heated whisper, not knowing why she did so, for she refused to believe she might be jealous.
“Rutting lusts?” Justin repeated, instantly angered by her unwarranted attack. His purpose had been to break completely with Cynthia, for he feared, given the chance, the vindictive blond would do Aidan emotional and mental harm. Although Aidan was independent, high-spirited, and forthright, he knew she lacked the experience to deal with a woman like Cynthia. The blond, on the other hand, was the type who would go straight for the jugular; Aidan would never survive one of Cynthia’s calculated attacks. Forgetting his young bride knew nothing of his desire to protect her, Justin drew Aidan against him. “Take care, sweet, that I don’t make you the object of my so-called ‘rutting lusts.’ One would think you’d be grateful that another has to suffer what you undoubtedly believe to be a loathsome act. Someday, love, I’ll show you just how wrong
you are.”
He released her, and Aidan stumbled back. Glaring her dislike, she turned on her heel and headed inside; Justin followed at a slower pace. Angered and hurt, Aidan quickly brushed past Cynthia Danvers, who was purposely standing in the doorway. Her eyes refusing to look at the blond, the young duchess headed toward the area where she’d last seen Eugenia.
As Justin stepped in by the French doors, his gaze following Aidan’s progression across the room, his mistress looked up at him. “For a man who claims he doesn’t wish to be married, you certainly act as though you’re becoming attached to the little baggage. I thought you were bent on getting rid of her.”
“I am.”
“Did you file the necessary papers requesting the divorce?”
“I did,” Justin replied, his eyes still on Aidan as she spoke to Lord and Lady Manley. Their expressions seemed concerned. Undoubtedly she was relaying all that had transpired between his wife and himself on the balcony, eliciting their sympathies. Damn her for making him seem the ogre! Although in her eyes that’s exactly what he was, for he’d certainly acted the part, she had no right discussing their private lives with anyone!
“And?” Cynthia asked, becoming annoyed that he wasn’t paying attention to her.
“And what?” Justin asked, not looking at her.
“Do you think you’ll be granted the divorce?”
“I doubt it. I was told it didn’t look very promising. Apparently Victoria had already anticipated my next step. Right now, it’s a matter of wait-and-see. Other than doing away with her completely, I may as well accept the fact that I’m stuck.”
Light laughter bubbled from the blond’s throat. “You could always arrange an accident, Justin,” Cynthia suggested, easing up to him, her full breasts pressing against his arm, but to her surprise, Justin showed no masculine response.
“I could, but unlike you, Cynthia, I do have some scruples. If the edict comes down that Aidan and I are to remain married, I will accept my fate.”
“You’re joking,” the blond replied incredulously.
“No, I’m not.” He finally looked at her. “And, Cynthia, you may consider our little trysts at an end.” He noted her instant surprise. “I will caution you only once. Don’t attempt to harm Aidan in any way. If you so much as breathe her name, I’ll see that you pay dearly. The house, carriage, jewels, gowns, and whatever else I bought for you will remain yours. Just don’t attempt to cross me.”
Although she was seething inside, Cynthia was careful not to show it. In time, Justin might change his mind, and she didn’t wish to do anything that would permanently keep him from her doorstep. “Whatever you say, Your Grace,” she said tonelessly. “I wish you well.”
Justin viewed her with a cynical eye, then said, “Good night, Cynthia. And good-bye.”
The blond watched as the Duke of Westover angled his way around the room, heading toward his young bride. Never had Cynthia thought that Justin Warfield would take the route of love, but she was beginning to believe that’s exactly where he was headed. What seemed ridiculous to her was that he most likely didn’t even know it himself. With luck, the little slut would be frigid, and he’d soon be back in her own arms. Until then, she was willing to sit back and watch the man make a complete fool of himself. Espying a particularly handsome young earl, Cynthia sauntered off, deciding the evening shouldn’t be a total waste.
“He was extremely upset, Eugenia,” Aidan said in answer to her friend’s question about George’s reaction to the news. “I can’t blame him for being so. All this is my fault.”
“And mine,” Eugenia replied.
“Agreed,” said David, then fell silent, for his wife had bestowed on him one of her censuring looks.
“The duke never returned with your refreshments. You didn’t happen to run into him, did you?”
“No,” Aidan lied, not wanting to share what had transpired between her husband and herself on the balcony. “Perhaps he became sidetracked.”
Suddenly Aidan felt a magnetic presence near her; her whole body seemed pulled by its forcefulness. Turning her head, she saw Justin standing directly behind her. Instantly she shifted her gaze forward.
“Lord and Lady Manley,” he said, his words flowing over her shoulder, “it’s good to see you again.”
Respectively David and Eugenia offered a slight bow and a small curtsy. “Your Grace,” David said as Eugenia mimicked the words.
Justin inclined his head, acknowledging their formal salute. “If you’ll forgive us,” he said as the strains of a waltz filled the air, “I’d like to dance one last dance with my bride. Afterward we shall be headed home.”
Before Aidan could open her mouth, she was whirled onto the floor. “I’d prefer to sit this one out,” she snapped, her fiery gaze searing his face.
“Smile, sweet. We’re being watched.”
“I wouldn’t wonder, with the way you’ve behaved this evening.”
“And you also, sweet,” he said, a stilted grin on his face. “Now, smile.”
“Hypocrite,” she accused, refusing to do so.
Justin tightened his hold on Aidan, then twirled her toward the door. Within moments the pair was seated in his carriage, heading back to Westover House.
Silver eyes assessed the young beauty who sat in the opposite seat, while the memory of seeing her pressed closely to George Edmonds filled the field of Justin’s mind. Had it been only an explanation that she’d been offering the viscount?
The thought induced a cold fury to rise within Justin. “Remember my words on keeping yourself away from Edmonds,” he said finally. Aidan glared her rebellion through the darkness. Although Justin could not see the flaming mutiny blazing in her eyes, he could feel its combustible force. “Consider it one of my rules,” he announced. “One that you’ll follow to the letter, especially if you wish to lead your so-called separate life. Or else, dear wife, you will find yourself chained to me day and night. Something I’m sure you’d truly abhor.” She did not answer. “Aidan, don’t let your anger with me ruin what rapport we do have. Now, will you promise me you’ll stay away from George?”
She searched the shadows, knowing she had little choice but to accede to his wishes. Otherwise, she’d be made his prisoner. The thought of losing her freedom prompted her reply. “You leave me no alternative. Either I do as you say or I’m doomed.”
Justin chuckled. “I fear you are already,” he said, certain their divorce would be denied.
Aidan’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Nothing,” he answered, not wanting to hear another round of angry protests over the issue. “Do I have your promise, then?”
“Yes,” she hissed, piqued that he held such control over her. “I will stay away from George.”
“Good. You now have my permission to travel about town on your own. Of course, I shall do the same. Occasionally, though, we will need to make an appearance together. You may choose the time and place.”
“How about St. Paul’s on Sunday mornings?” she countered, and a shout of laughter burst forth from Justin.
“Are you planning on making me look pious? I presume you’ll next have me confessing my sins.”
An impish smile crossed Aidan’s face. “I’d never be that cruel. Your confessor would surely have grown a beard nearly three feet long by the time you finished uttering all your transgressions.”
Justin chuckled. “And I suppose your sins can all be whispered within a single breath.” Aidan didn’t answer. “Beware, sweet, you don’t add any wrongs to your list. I’m not as forgiving as our Maker.”
“Nor am I. But you, sir, should take your own advice. Already the weight of your list would break a camel’s back. One more and you might sink into perdition.”
“I’m already headed in that direction, sweet,” Justin said as their carriage stopped in front of Westover House. He stepped down and offered Aidan his hand. “Would you care to join me?”
Through narrowed eyes Aidan viewed his exte
nded hand, then slipped her fingers over his slightly callused palm, for she feared if she didn’t accept his help, she might get caught up in her voluminous skirts and end up on the ground. “This doesn’t mean I shall willingly follow you to the nether regions,” she said, nodding at their joined hands.
“But I’m certain we shall meet there, nonetheless,” Justin said in a teasing whisper, his heated breath caressing her ear; an exciting warmth raced down Aidan’s spine, leaving her breathless, as well as confused.
After silently making their way through the door and up the stairs, for Aidan was pondering her unexplained reaction to the man, Justin drew her into his arms.
“Good night, sweet,” he said, and, stunned, Aidan watched as his face lowered itself toward hers. Quick and hard, his lips took control of hers; then suddenly he released her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Staring after him as he strode off toward his room, Aidan wondered about his abrupt changes in mood. The man was impossible to understand. Perhaps he purposely meant to keep her off-balance, her emotions tossed one way, then another.
Maybe, she decided, her eyes narrowing on his back, he was trying to drive her insane. It was a logical way for him to be rid of her. In fact, one might call it a forced bachelorhood. Once he had her institutionalized, which was fairly simple for a husband to achieve, she would remain there for life, thereby assuring him his freedom. He could not divorce her; therefore, no woman could trap him in marriage again. Yet the law stated nothing about him cavorting about town with as many women as he wished, taking them all to his bed if he liked! Too bad her own gender wasn’t afforded the same privilege, she fumed silently, turning on her heel and heading for her separate quarters. If it was, she’d have him committed tomorrow!
A Heart So Innocent Page 20