Her Devilish Marquess

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “Of course,” Danette replied, taking that as her cue to go over to him.

  But he didn’t head out of the drawing room as she expected. Instead, he went over to Malcolm, whispered something in his ear, and gave him a few coins, making sure Leonard didn’t see the exchange.

  “Thank you, Derek,” Regan said when Derek turned to Danette.

  “I’m happy I could make myself useful,” Derek told her. “Are you ready?” he asked Danette.

  Danette accepted his arm, joined him in saying goodbye to everyone, and left with him, thinking her husband had to be the sweetest and kindest gentleman in all of London.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Finally, you came,” Christopher called out as Derek walked into White’s a week later. “Ethan and I thought you’d forgotten we voted you in.”

  “I didn’t forget,” Derek replied, glancing around at the fine furniture, gaming tables, and abundant supply of liquor. Only when he was with his brother and father had he seen such excess. “I take it all gentlemen do here is play games and get drunk.”

  Christopher gasped and put his hand to his chest. “Most assuredly not! We conduct important business here.”

  “I don’t know if I consider wagers over ladies and estates all that important. You forget that I read the Tittletattle.” And as it seemed, so did the gentlemen at White’s since there were copies of the scandalsheets on a nearby table.

  “I’ll have you know we take this club very seriously. It’s a place where we can say and do whatever we want without reproach from the Ton.”

  Derek’s eyebrows raised. “Freedom from the Ton?” Maybe this place had some merit, after all.

  “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. Any place we can be ourselves and not suffer for it is worth being at. This is why Ethan and I thought of you. We would have tried to get you in sooner, but it was far easier to convince the gentlemen to vote for a marquess than a doctor. Some are so particular about titles.”

  “I understand. A title, or money, gives a gentleman an advantage.”

  “And if you can have both, which you do, then it’s even better.” Christopher nodded toward a group of gentleman playing a card game. “We should start over here and make our way around the establishment.”

  Derek followed his friend and stopped next to him. Christopher proceeded to introduce him to everyone at the table, and though Derek didn’t recognize most of them, he did recognize Lords Davenport and Reddington since he tended to their families during his duties as a doctor.

  After the pleasantries from the introduction were made, Christopher asked, “Are there any notable wagers going on at the moment?”

  “No,” Davenport replied. “We’re playing for entertainment.”

  Christopher grimaced. “Playing for the sake of playing is not entertaining.”

  “I agree,” Lord Toplyn replied. “I’d much rather make the whole thing a lot more interesting with a wager.”

  “That’s easy for you to say since your wife is wealthy,” Davenport said.

  “Your wife brought a sizable amount of money into your marriage, too,” Toplyn was quick to point out. “You could afford to lose a little of it in a wager.”

  “No thank you. I’m happier to sit back and just play a game.” Then, before anyone might utter a word of protest, he said, “Wagers are nothing but trouble.”

  “I can’t believe it,” someone called out from behind Derek and Christopher. “Finally, one of White’s scandal seekers is making sense.”

  Derek turned in time to see two gentlemen approaching. He recognized Lord Steinbeck, but he did not recognize the tall, dark-haired gentleman standing next to him.

  “I see you brought the gentleman you and Lord Edon begged everyone to vote for,” Steinbeck told Christopher, giving Derek a critical glance from head to toe.

  Derek bristled but kept quiet. It wouldn’t do to start his first day at White’s with a brawl.

  “We didn’t beg anyone to vote for the Marquess of Dodsworth,” Christopher replied, using the same casual disdain in his tone Steinbeck had just employed. “Enough gentlemen know that if they want to save this establishment from years of boredom, the best thing to do is to vote for someone like him.” Christopher patted Derek on the shoulder. “Besides, a marquess outranks a viscount.”

  Steinbeck stiffened. “You think a rank is the only thing that matters? You have no title, you simpleton. If it weren’t for your cousin, Lord Clement, you wouldn’t even be here. No, it’s not a gentleman’s rank that gets him into the club. It’s his connections.”

  “Which explains why you two reptiles are slithering through here together,” Christopher replied, smiling as if he came up with the cleverest retort anyone could come up with. “I suppose you’re off to seek out more of your kind. Well, you’re in luck. The menagerie is that way.” He pointed out the west window. Turning to Derek, he added, “I hear they added new vile creatures to their exotic supply of animals. These gentlemen must be on their way to meet them.”

  Steinbeck spoke to his friend, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear as he said, “It’s quite sad when someone doesn’t know his jokes aren’t funny. It leaves me in a dilemma. Do I tell him, or do I let him continue on with his delusion?”

  Steinbeck’s friend chuckled. “Why waste your time? He’s not intelligent enough to understand you.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re right.” Steinbeck gave Christopher the kind of smile one might give a foolish child. “It’s all right. We know you can’t help being what you are.” Then, without letting Christopher reply, his gaze went to Derek. “This is the Viscount Worsley. Your brother had hoped to make his acquaintance, but alas, it wasn’t meant to be. We are all sorry to see your brother go before his time. He had much to do and offer the world. It’s not fair someone like that should die while in the prime of his youth.”

  “You’re right,” Derek agreed. “It’s not fair. Deaths of the young are the hardest to accept.” He paused then added, “On his deathbed, my brother shared a secret with me. He mourned the fact that he hadn’t married and had an heir. All the money he’d acquired meant nothing to him.”

  “That’s understandable since he was a titled gentleman,” Steinbeck said.

  “It’s not just the titled gentlemen who say these things. People, regardless of their monetary situation, often think of their loved ones as they depart from this world to go to the next. The real tragedy is in the things they never said or did with the people in their lives while they lived. Money, titles, and the acquisition of things mean nothing at the end.”

  “Exactly!” Christopher exclaimed. “I have a wife and a darling little girl. More than that, my wife and I love each other. So it seems to me, I’m better off than you, Lord Bachelor.”

  Steinbeck glowered at him. “I didn’t realize we were in a competition.”

  “Not everyone wishes for marriage,” Lord Worsley said. “Some gentlemen see it as an inconvenience.”

  “Then by all means,” Derek began, “don’t marry. Your title will go to your next of kin. I only hope you approve of him.” Figuring he’d said enough, he turned to leave, Christopher quick to follow him.

  “That reminds me of something, Dodsworth,” Steinbeck called out.

  As much as Derek wanted to keep on walking, some morbid sense of curiosity bubbled its way to the surface and forced him to stop and turn back to face Steinbeck.

  With a knowing grin, Steinbeck continued, “I recall how much grief your brother had in trying to come up with excuses for your crude behavior.”

  Toplyn put his cards on the table and rose to his feet, his eyebrows raised in interest. “Crude behavior? From him?” He gestured to Derek. “I don’t remember hearing anything scandalous about Lord Dodsworth, and I like to keep abreast of the latest scandal.”

  “How could you not recognize him?” Steinbeck asked. “He’s Dr. Westward, the one gentleman in all of London who’s been banned from everyone’s balls exce
pt from those hosted by him,” he pointed to Christopher, “and Edon.”

  Eyes wide, Toplyn hurried over to Derek and shook his hand. “Well done, my good man. Up to now, I’ve only heard your name. Now I get to meet the legend.”

  Steinbeck rolled his eyes. “Perhaps if you weren’t so busy reading that obscene book of yours, you would have recognized him.”

  “Are you still complaining about that book?” Christopher asked. “We voted to keep it at White’s, and that vote was final.”

  Steinbeck glowered at him. “You won by one vote.” Then for emphasis, he added, “One vote. That means half of the gentlemen here had the good sense to vote it out.”

  “Sure,” Christopher began. “The half that have miserable wives. Or, like in your case, the ones who have no wives at all. And quite frankly, you can tell which gentlemen aren’t reading it. They’re the ones who aren’t happy.” Christopher nodded toward Steinbeck and Worsley. “Like them.”

  Steinbeck’s jaw clenched. “The way I see it, there’s a respectable gentleman in this club who voted against common decency, and when I find out who it is, he’s going to have to answer to me.”

  Derek decided he’d had enough. “You’re acting worse than a child. Even children understand that when something has been voted on, it’s time to end the discussion.” And since he risked no consequence to what he said in this establishment, he added, “You can’t coerce people into doing what you want. Sooner or later, you’re going to end up alone and miserable just like my brother. Of all the people I’ve ever met, I feel the most sorry for the ones like you. No one truly enjoys your company. They’re only with you for what you can offer them.”

  Steinbeck’s eyes darkened, and Derek knew he’d struck a nerve. But the only reason he’d struck the nerve was because he’d spoken the truth. Deep down, Steinbeck knew what he was saying was right.

  “I have better things to do than waste my time with you and your miserable friends,” Derek said then left the room.

  It wasn’t until he was safely out of Steinbeck’s range that he remembered Malcolm was one of Steinbeck’s friends. No doubt, word would get back to Malcolm about this. That would likely upset Regan, which, in turn, would upset Danette.

  He considered returning to the room and apologizing, but he caught the proud expression on Steinbeck’s face and couldn’t bring himself to do it. No matter how much he willed his feet to go back in there, it just wasn’t going to happen.

  It was gentlemen like Steinbeck who brought out the worst in him. If they wouldn’t go around spouting off that they were much better than everyone else, he wouldn’t feel the need to say something. And what good did it do to confront them anyway? They never listened. They refused to change their ways. In the end, all it did was frustrate him.

  “Derek, where are you going?” Christopher called out as he hurried after him.

  It wasn’t until Derek stopped at the door that he realized he’d made a beeline straight for the exit. With a sigh, he faced his friend. “I need to go home and tell my wife what just happened,” he said.

  “Why? What happens here stays here. Besides, no one cares what Steinbeck or his friends think.”

  “My wife will.” When he saw Christopher’s eyebrows furrow, he decided it was pointless to explain why Danette wasn’t going to be happy with him once she found out what he’d told Malcolm’s friend. “This is why I try to stay away from these types of establishments. I only end up doing or saying something that upsets someone I care about.”

  “Steinbeck had it coming. No one can argue that.”

  “People who want his connections will argue it. Don’t you understand how this works? His relationships might be superficial, but as long as he can keep giving people what they want, they’ll support him. That’s how the Ton is.”

  It’d been a mistake to come here. He should have listened to his gut and stayed away. He didn’t know why he thought he could actually find a place to belong in the proper side of Society. He’d been fooling himself by coming here. Without another word, Derek flung the door open and left.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Marriage agrees with you,” Danette’s mother said as the two were sitting in the drawing room, enjoying the afternoon sunlight that filtered in through the windows. “You’re sewing a happy image for a change.”

  Danette glanced up from her embroidery and shot her mother a pointed look. “I’ve sewn happy images before.”

  Her mother pulled the thread from her own embroidery and clucked her tongue. “Danette, you know very well animals aren’t the same thing as butterflies and bows.”

  Danette looked down at the assortment of butterflies surrounded by bows etched in the rectangular fabric she was sewing. “It’s for my vanity,” she said. “My old tablecloth is worn out, and I need a new one. I wanted something more ladylike than what I’d do for another room in the townhouse.”

  “You never did butterflies or bows for your vanity before.”

  Danette let out an exasperated sigh and set her embroidery down in her lap. “Must you persist in this, Mother?” she asked, sure her mother would end the topic now that Danette had made it clear she didn’t wish to keep on about it.

  To her surprise, her mother answered, “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  Her mother smiled. “I only mention it because it shows me how much you’re enjoying your new life. Derek has been good for you.”

  Returning her smile, she said, “Yes, he has.”

  “And he’s good looking, too.”

  “Mother!” She glanced around to make sure no servants were lingering in the hallway.

  “I might be old, but I’m not blind. A kind and loving husband is important, of course, but it never hurts if he’s attractive, too.”

  “All right, Mother. You made your point. There’s no need to continue with this discussion.”

  “All I’m saying is that I’m happy for you.”

  “I know, and I appreciate it. I just don’t want to get into anything private when others might come by.”

  As if to prove her point, the front door opened and a few seconds later, Derek peered into the drawing room. She shot her mother a pleading look to not say anything that might embarrass her. Her mother let out a sigh, indicating she thought Danette worried far too much, and as much as Danette hated to admit it, her mother was right.

  “You can come in,” Danette told Derek, surprised he hadn’t ventured further into the room.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt anything,” he said, glancing at her mother.

  “You’re not interrupting us,” her mother assured him. “I was just having a nice talk with Danette. In fact,” she gathered her embroidery and placed it in the basket next to her, “I think we’re done talking. I can always come by and continue this embroidery another day.”

  “You don’t have to leave,” he replied.

  “I’m tired. I need to go home and lie down for a while. That kind of thing happens when you get to be my age. Enjoy your energy while you have it.”

  Danette didn’t believe her mother for a minute, but she supposed it didn’t matter if she bought the lie or not. What mattered was that Derek didn’t pick up on the fib. Her mother, no doubt, was giving Danette time alone with Derek. Maybe she had picked up on the worried expression on his face just as Danette had.

  “I’ll come see you later this week,” Danette told her mother, also rising to her feet.

  “I look forward to it,” her mother said. “And let me know when would be a good time to invite you two over for dinner. I don’t want to impose on your schedule,” she told Derek. “I know you work all hours of the day since you’re a doctor.”

  “So far my schedule is clear around dinner time,” he said.

  Her mother gathered her basket and smiled. “Splendid. I’ll send an invitation in a day or two.”

  “Oh mother,” Danette laughed, “you don’t have to be so formal.”

  “You’re a married lady now,” h
er mother said. “I don’t want to be one of those mothers who constantly intrudes on their married children’s lives.” She turned to Derek. “There’s no need to see me out. I know the way.”

  Danette waited until her mother left before directing her attention to her husband. “She used to bemoan the fact that my grandmother—that is, her mother-in-law—would come over far too much while I was growing up. I think that’s why she wants to be careful she doesn’t wear out her welcome.”

  “That’s considerate of her,” he replied.

  “It is. My mother is a thoughtful person.” After a moment, she asked, “Is something bothering you?”

  He opened his mouth as if he was about to tell her something, but then, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face, and he shut it.

  “Did you have a bad experience at White’s?” she pressed, thinking the question might open him up to telling her the matter.

  He stared at her for a long moment before settling beside her on the settee. “Everything went as expected.”

  “Is that good or bad?” Because if it was as he expected, then it should be good, shouldn’t it?

  “I’ve never enjoyed large gatherings. It was more my brother’s thing.”

  “Did you join White’s because it was something he wanted you to do?”

  “No. I joined because I have a couple of good friends there, but I never thought I’d get voted in.”

  She smiled. “But since you did get voted in, then you can’t be as unpopular with the Ton as you think. That’s good, isn’t it?”

  Instead of answering her question, he picked up her embroidery and studied it. “You didn’t strike me as a butterflies and bows kind of lady.”

  “Oh?”

  “I imagined you more as a lover of flowers. You’re not only as beautiful as one, but you also have a pleasant demeanor. Once you get comfortable with someone, you open to them, much like a flower when it blooms.” He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “No one can truly appreciate a flower until it opens up. However, I’ve seen butterflies rest on flowers, and I’ve seen people wrap bows around bouquets. So I’d say they complement flowers very well.”