Her Devilish Marquess

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “He has a couple of patients to see today. It was wonderful of him to spend all of last week with me. He really seems to care for me.”

  “That’s terrific, Danette.” Regan’s gaze went to the open doorway before she lowered her voice and added, “What did I tell you about his chest? Isn’t it magnificent?”

  Despite the heat rising in her cheeks, Danette admitted, “He is very well built, but I have no gentlemen to compare him to.”

  “I do, and I can tell you he has a marvelous build. When you find out how he managed to acquire all those muscles, let me know.”

  “He chops wood and carries supplies for people in need. He does this with no pay.”

  “He does?”

  Danette nodded. “He mostly does this for people who are old or have a physical reason that hinders them from doing the work themselves. He says he was fortunate to be brought up in a wealthy home where he never had to want for anything. Most people in London aren’t so fortunate. I never thought about it until he told me.”

  “It’s easy not to think about it when you’re preoccupied with our world of balls and dinner parties.” Regan smiled. “You couldn’t have been matched with a better gentleman.”

  “I know. Helena, Chloe, and Melissa did a wonderful job in picking him for me.”

  “They did. I knew they would.” Regan finished her tea and set the cup on the table. “Now, the reason I came by was to invite you and Derek to a dinner party. It’ll be an informal affair between you, me, and our husbands. Malcolm’s parents will be watching Leonard, so our husbands will get to know each other.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, they come from two different worlds.”

  “They’re not all that different. They’re gentlemen who have money and wonderful wives.”

  Danette’s lips curled up at the last part of her friend’s comment. “I agree we are wonderful. However, you know how much scandal Derek created in the past. I know he’s changed all that, but doesn’t Malcolm have trouble overcoming that sort of thing?”

  “He got over my indiscretions.”

  “Yes, but you kept yours tame. You were never mentioned in the Tittletattle or banned from balls.”

  “I got fortunate,” Regan said. Before Danette could ask her what she did in the past that might have warranted such a scandal, her friend added, “Malcolm and I would love to have you and Derek over this Saturday evening. What do you say? Will you come?”

  “I’ll ask Derek, but I’m sure he’ll say yes.” Her new husband seemed willing to do whatever she wanted. She couldn’t imagine he’d say no, especially since he knew Regan was a good friend.

  “Good! In the meantime, would you like to take a walk?”

  “That’d be nice.”

  Getting up, the two ladies headed for Hyde Park.

  ***

  “Good afternoon,” Derek greeted the twelve-year-old girl of a small residence. “I have an appointment with your mother. Did she tell you I was coming by?”

  “Yes.” The girl gestured for him to enter the home. “You’re early. You aren’t supposed to be here for another thirty minutes.”

  Derek stepped into the house and said, “Things didn’t take as long with the last patient as I expected. I hope that’s all right.”

  She nodded. “I’ll tell Mother you’re here. She’s taking a nap.”

  As she hurried off down the hallway, he went further into the room where her younger siblings were. The seven-year-old girl was quietly reading a book. The two, three, and five-year-olds were playing with toys. Well, none of the children seemed to be ill. So the matter involved either Christina Leith or her husband.

  He sat on the couch, and the children came over to him, asking if he’d brought any candy. He dug out the small treats from his pocket and handed them to the children.

  The twelve-year-old came back out. “I knocked on Mother’s door and let her know you’re here. She said she’ll be out soon.” She turned to her brothers and sisters. “Let’s go to the park. The doctor needs things quiet while he visits with Mother.”

  With candy in hand, the children ran to get their shoes, nearly bumping into each other as they did so. Derek chuckled at the sight. Maybe someday, he and Danette would have children who toppled over each other like these did.

  A couple minutes after the children left, Christina came into the room, her face flushed and her hair slightly out of place. She was patting it, but no matter how hard she tried, a few errant strands wouldn’t cooperate. Even her skirt showed signs of an afternoon tryst. Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. He had assumed her husband was at work, but apparently, he wasn’t.

  “My lord,” she greeted with a bow as he rose to his feet, “I didn’t expect you here so early.”

  “First, there’s no need to stand on formality just because I have a title now. Second, I’m sorry I came early. My last appointment was over sooner than had I anticipated,” he replied then gestured for her to sit.

  She settled on the settee and adjusted the skirt neatly around her. “It feels so different to have a marquess as my doctor.”

  “It shouldn’t,” he replied, returning to his chair. “I’m the same person I always was. Now, I notice your children are doing well, and I take it your husband is, too. You also look to be in good health. Shall I guess why you wanted me here?” he asked, his tone taking on a teasing quality.

  “You know me much too well. I bet you can guess.”

  “Only because I’ve been taking care of you and your family for years. All right. Since you want me to guess, I will. You’re expecting another child, and you want me to confirm whether or not you’re right.”

  “I know it’s silly. I’ve been with child often enough, but I feel better having the assurance. I haven’t lost a single child to childbirth since you’ve been my doctor.”

  “I understand. In that case, I’ll ask you the questions I usually do.”

  “Ask away.” She shifted and a handkerchief fell out of her pocket.

  “I’ll get that for you,” he offered before she could bend over to retrieve it.

  As he picked it up, he noticed WBT embroidered on the fabric. It was a gentleman’s handkerchief. There was no mistaking the masculine design.

  “Oh, that’s my brother’s,” Christina said, taking it from him and stuffing it back into her pocket.

  Derek thought back to a time when she’d mentioned a brother, and after a moment, he recalled it. But he was sure her brother’s name was Maxwell Ford. Those initials didn’t match up with the ones on the handkerchief. And if he recalled right, she only had the one brother.

  She was lying. He was sure of it. He debated whether or not to let the matter go. Of all the things he could accept, lying was the hardest one. He might not have cared much for his brother, but at least his brother had been decent enough to be honest with him. But worse than the shock of finding out she was lying to him was the fact that she was one of the few people he trusted…at least up until now.

  Pushing aside the unease in his gut, he returned to his chair and forced the pleasant smile back on his face. “All right. Let’s start with the last time you had your lady’s time.”

  “Um, I believe it was about six weeks ago today.”

  “That being the case, have you been unusually tired lately?”

  “I feel tired on most days, given all the running around I do after the children.”

  If he hadn’t seen the initials on that handkerchief, he would have chuckled at her joke. The way things were going, however, he could barely manage a smile. “You know the kind of tired I’m referring to. You go through it for a couple months when you’re with child.”

  “Yes, I know. I suppose I’m afraid to hope. When I lost my dear Wilma at birth, I decided I wanted to have as many children as the Good Lord allows.”

  “I understand.”

  And there was nothing wrong with that, as long as she went about it the right way. Her disheveled hair, the blush in her cheek
s, and the unkempt skirt, along with the handkerchief, indicated things weren’t as innocent as she’d have him think. If he’d come here when he was supposed to, would she have been presentable? Would he have stumbled upon her secret? How many times had he missed her secret trysts?

  He cleared his throat. “How have you been eating?” he forced out.

  “Now that I think about it, not all that well,” she replied, her casual tone indicating she’d been doing nothing inappropriate. “The other day when I ate, I thought I got ill because it’s something I often have trouble with anyway, but there might have been something else to it.”

  She continued discussing the other things she’d been experiencing lately, and he halfheartedly listened. How long had she been having an affair? Did her husband know? Worse, did her children know?

  Should he tell her husband? How would the situation affect her children if he did? How many of the children were even her husband’s?

  This was why he hated lies. They only complicated things, and they forced others to make very uncomfortable decisions when they learned the truth.

  “I feel much better since you came by,” she finished after rambling for a few minutes.

  He blinked, unaware he hadn’t heard most of what she’d been saying. Not that it mattered. She had a tendency to rehash the same things.

  She rose to her feet. “Thank you, Dr. Westward. I mean, my lord.”

  He slowly stood up and gave careful thought to what he should say. “Christina, will your husband be happy to learn you’re expecting?”

  “He always is.”

  “Am I right to assume he has a reason to be happy each time you tell him?”

  “Is that what’s troubling you? Well, don’t worry about a thing.” Her smile widened. “He loves children as much as I do, and he takes it as a sign of his strength and virility each time I bring him another one.”

  Each time she brought him another one? Whether she knew it or not, that could be interpreted different ways. He stopped himself from saying more. He could very well be misunderstanding the situation. Maybe the handkerchief had nothing to do with her afternoon tryst. Maybe it had to do with something else.

  Then why lie about her brother? As much as he wanted to find a reason to hold her blameless, he was having a hard time doing so.

  “I better go,” he finally told her.

  “Of course,” she said. “You have other patients to visit. I’ve been selfish enough with your time. Shall I have my husband send payment, or should I give you some eggs and biscuits?”

  “Let’s wait for now,” he decided. “I’ll get back to you later about it, all right?”

  “Anything you wish,” she agreed.

  Once he was finally outside, he took a deep breath, held it, and released it. He knew full well what his brother would want him to do. His brother would want him to act like nothing happened and go about his life as usual. Discretion was the highest priority. As long as no one knew about the affair, this was perfectly acceptable in London.

  Don’t make trouble, his brother would tell him. Husbands take mistresses and wives take lovers all the time. There’s nothing unusual about it.

  But even as his brother’s warning played over and over in his mind, he stayed within eyesight of the home and waited to see who might slip out the back. He doubted the gentleman she’d been entertaining would go out the front.

  It took a half hour, but the gentleman finally slipped around from the back. His hat was lowered, and he was looking down. The clothes he wore would make anyone believe he was part of the middle class, but the handkerchief told Derek otherwise.

  Keeping his distance, Derek followed him. The gentleman took a long walk around a park, even sitting for a good ten minutes, before leaving. From time to time, he glanced around, and Derek wondered if the gentleman suspected Derek had figured out what was going on. To this end, Derek made it a point to be discreet himself, slipping around trees and buildings when possible.

  In the end, the gentleman finally went to his townhouse. A very expensive one at that. Derek shook his head. Lord Riggley. Of all the gentlemen who might be having an affair with a lower-middle class lady, it was Lady Cadwalader’s brother, one of London’s elitist members.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Derek, what’s bothering you?” Danette asked that evening.

  She went further into the den but stopped short of approaching the chair where he sat, staring at nothing in particular. If he was one of those gentlemen who needed to be left alone when they were upset, then it wasn’t her place to intrude. However, there were times when she’d been upset and it had helped to have someone with a caring ear listen to her.

  Derek glanced over at her and indicated she could sit in the chair beside him. Once she did, he said, “You go to most of the balls and listen to people talk.”

  Not sure what he was getting at, she settled for nodding.

  “Don’t you ever hear anything that bothers you?” he asked.

  She clasped her hands together and braced herself for his answer. “Did you overhear someone say something unpleasant about me?”

  “No. No one has said anything unpleasant about you. What I mean is,” he shifted so he could face her, “have you ever overheard someone mention they were having an affair?”

  Her face warmed. Those tended to be the things she paid the most attention to because they happened to be the most interesting pieces of gossip. If it wasn’t that, she often listened to people say what they didn’t like about another person. But she didn’t dare tell him any of this.

  What she chose to tell him instead was, “I’ve heard of some affairs.” She shrugged and added, “I don’t think people are even aware I’m nearby when they discuss such things.” It wasn’t like she hid behind furniture, plants, or long drapes at the balls. She sat in a chair where anyone could see her.

  “What do you do when you hear such things?” Derek asked.

  “Well…nothing. I figure it’s not my place to interfere.”

  He waited for a moment, probably weighing her words, and she gulped, wondering if she’d said something wrong despite the care she took in choosing her words.

  With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes. “I’ve never learned to stay out of things. That’s what has gotten me into so much trouble in the past. Sure, the Ton will call scandal on an affair if it’s exposed, but they really don’t care if someone is having an affair or not as long as no one finds out. What I’ve never been able to resolve is the hypocrisy of it all. What’s the sense in saying something is wrong if you’re going to go behind closed doors to do it?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Are you seeing a mistress?”

  He blinked in surprise and shook his head. “No. This isn’t about me. It has nothing to do with either one of us.”

  She exhaled, more than a little relieved to hear this.

  “This is about someone you don’t know,” he continued. “But that’s not even the problem. If someone knows something is wrong, do they have a moral obligation to warn the innocent person about it? Or, because it’s accepted by Society, does one keep quiet on the matter?”

  “I never thought about it,” she said. “I just assumed most married people took lovers, so it’s to be expected.” Though, to be fair, she’d never thought about it happening to her. Then again, she hadn’t expected to ever get married.

  “I suppose you’re right,” he replied. “People probably assume their husbands or wives are already seeking out lovers. If the husband knew, he probably wouldn’t be surprised. And who knows if he isn’t engaged with another lady on the side?”

  “Not all married couples seek lovers. Regan and Malcolm don’t.” She wished she could think of more examples, but her mind drew a blank. Regan knew many more people than she did. Since she had no other examples to give, she finally offered, “I don’t have a lover on the side.”

  At that, his expression softened, and he smiled at her. “I don’t have a mistress. I never
have. I’ve had to visit too many gentlemen and ladies who had unpleasant results from such encounters.”

  “You did?” Not once did anyone ever mention getting hurt from such activity, but then, why would they when they were bragging about it?

  “If people understood the dangers of syphilis and gonorrhea, they’d be more inclined to stick with one partner.”

  Unable to stop herself from being curious, she leaned toward him. “What dangers?”

  “It can be anything as minor as foul odors, abnormal discharges, and rashes to something more serious like dementia and blindness.”

  “Really?” Not one single person had ever mentioned any of this, and honestly, she never would have guessed this type of thing possible.

  Derek reached out and took her hand in his. “It’s not always easy to tell what’s happening early on because these things can be mistaken for other illnesses. Most of the time, I don’t even get the right prescription because the patient fails to tell me everything I need to know. It’s been one of the most frustrating things in my profession. I got into this to heal people, but I can’t do my part if I’m not given all the facts.”

  “What kind of facts?”

  “I’m sure you heard enough at those balls.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to upset your sensibilities. You’ve been spared from the harsher realities of life. It’s one of the things I like most about you, and it’s one of the things I hope never changes.”

  She bit back her disappointment. He was right. She shouldn’t be so curious about bad things. She’d be much better off focusing on the good.

  “Just so you know,” he added, “I won’t ever take anyone but you to my bed. Or,” he grinned, “go to anyone’s bed but yours, as I’ve been doing every night since we married.”

  “I won’t have anyone but you either,” she replied, her disappointment quickly waning.

  So what if she didn’t know more about the type of things he’d seen? What mattered was that he wanted the kind of marriage she did, and for that, she considered herself very fortunate.