Anne looked down at her clasped hands, but said nothing.
“Is something else troubling you?” Tessa asked.
Anne looked at her. “Richard asked me to convey his concern about you. He was shocked to find you alone in your drawing room with Shelbourne. My brother believes Shelbourne is risking your reputation.”
Her temper flared. “Give Richard a message. Tell him he’d better not discredit Shelbourne’s honor. Your brother is no match for a duke. And while you’re at it, tell him I’m no damsel in distress.”
“I share Richard’s concern. If this becomes general knowledge, it will ruin you. Do not meet Shelbourne alone again. He never should have persuaded you in the first place.”
“He asked, and I agreed. It is a business relationship.”
Anne shook her head. “You told me you are friends, and you even agreed to address each other by your Christian names.”
“We became friends in the course of our discussions about the girls.”
Anne gave her a dubious look.
“If you knew him as I do, you would not worry. He is very devoted to his family and treats the bridal candidates with the utmost respect.”
“You seem to have forgotten his reputation, but I have not. From the first night he met you at my ball, I sensed he’d marked you as a conquest. He looked at you in a most improper manner—as if he were undressing you with his eyes.”
“Your fancies have taken flight,” she said. But when they were alone that last time, he had regarded her with heated intent. He knew how to snare her with his blue eyes, and God help her, she could not resist him.
“He has used a slow siege to disarm you. Little by little, he’s gotten one concession after another. You are blind to what he’s done, but I am not.”
Tessa fumed. “You have twisted events when you do not know all the circumstances.”
“What worries me the most is the way you respond to him,” Anne said. “I saw the secret looks the two of you exchanged in your drawing room that day. You were communicating without words. There is an intimacy between you. I worry you have developed tender feelings for him.”
Tessa averted her heated face. “I am his matchmaker. What you sense is merely friendship.” As she spoke the words, her heart squeezed. He meant far more to her than he should, but she dared not admit it. Dared not show it.
“Can you honestly tell me he has done nothing improper?”
She laughed. “According to you he has carved one hundred notches in his bedpost. So the answer is no.”
“I know you well. You employ sarcasm to evade questions you do not wish to answer, but I care too much about you to let this pass. Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. Did he seduce you?”
She met her friend’s gaze. “No.” He had not seduced her. She’d welcomed his kisses and touches that night at Ashdown House. And though she ought to be ashamed, she knew she would never regret it.
Anne exhaled. “Thank God.”
The clock chimed the half hour. “I’m sorry, Anne, but I must leave for my appointment with the duchess.”
As they walked out together, Anne sighed. “I do feel more at ease after speaking to you, especially since the duke’s courtship is almost over. Everyone will say you made the most prestigious match in the nation.”
Yes, she would achieve her own ambition, and no one would ever know she’d failed him.
Two hours later, Tessa set her quill aside and rubbed her wrist. “Duchess, what else may I help you with?”
Julianne groaned. “Oh, do not ask. Mama is sure to torture us with another task.”
“You needn’t worry, daughter. We are done.” The duchess removed her spectacles. “Dratted things are a nuisance.”
Tessa smiled, remembering how Uncle George used to misplace his all the time. “I had no idea how much work it is to plan meals for a house party.”
“Your uncle did not entertain?” Julianne asked.
“Only the neighbors. We lived quietly in the country.” She shrugged. “I’ve never even attended one before.”
The sound of footsteps drew Tessa’s attention to the door. Tristan bowed. “Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” his mother said. Then she regarded her daughter. “Julianne, you have ignored the pianoforte all week. You must practice.”
“But, Mama, I’m tired from all the planning.”
“You dawdled and gossiped most of the time. I’ll not listen to any arguments.”
“I promise to practice tomorrow,” Julianne said in a wheedling tone.
Tessa’s lips twitched. She doubted Julianne would sway her mother.
The duchess rose. “You will excuse me, Miss Mansfield. I mean to have a private word with my daughter.”
After they left, Tessa regarded Tristan. He looked very handsome in his blue coat and buff trousers. She’d missed him terribly, but she mustn’t show her feelings. “I should leave.”
When she stood, he strode across the room and took her hands. Her breath hitched. Forbidden feelings flooded her heart.
“You are well?” he murmured.
She nodded.
Worry clouded his blue eyes. “Has Mortland used his sister to gain entrance to your drawing room?”
“They called twice while I was here assisting your mother.” She paused. “Anne came alone today. I was very glad to see her.”
Tristan furrowed his brows. “I’m surprised Mortland did not insist upon accompanying her.”
“Anne told him to stay behind so that we could talk privately. She is like a sister to me.” She debated how much to tell Tristan and decided to be honest about everything except Anne’s concern about her relationship with him.
When she finished telling him about the gift she’d returned and her conversation with Anne, Tristan scowled. “Mortland will persuade his sister to call tomorrow or the next day. He cannot resist your fortune or your beauty.”
Her heart turned over. She knew she was plain, but his words lifted her battered spirits all the same.
“I’ve heard rumors he’s racked up ruinous debts,” Tristan said.
Oh, dear God. Poor Anne had no idea.
“I do not know if Broughton is aware, but do not admit Mortland even if he calls with his sister,” Tristan said. “I cannot rest easy otherwise.”
“Anne will not call in the next two days. I refused her dinner invitation on account of all I must do before leaving for the house party,” she said.
“You will be safe from him next week,” Tristan said. “When we return, I will speak to Broughton on your behalf.”
She inhaled sharply. “I cannot allow you to fight my battles for me.”
“I will protect you,” he said gruffly.
She forced herself to say what she must, though she wasn’t ready to face losing him to another. “You will be engaged and soon will marry. I cannot become dependent upon you.” The day her uncle died, she’d realized there was no one to rely upon, no one to advise her or help shoulder the burdens.
His blue eyes filled with determination, and though he said nothing, she knew he meant to intercede. “Mortland and Anne caught us alone in my drawing room. I’m sure Broughton knows. If you go to him, Broughton will question your involvement. You will make matters far worse for both of us.”
He scowled.
“You know I am right.” She released his hands. “I must go now.”
He offered his arm. “I’ll escort you.”
Tristan walked with her to her carriage. Foolish woman. He didn’t give a damn about her independence. He would confront Broughton next week.
As her driver let down the steps, Tristan faced her. “I feel in my bones Mortland will try something in the next two days. Promise me you will send for me if anything happens.”
“Nothing will happen. Even if he tries to call, Gravesend won’t let him in.”
“He’ll concoct some ruse,” Tristan said. “Swear to me you’ll be careful.”
“You’re as ba
d as Gravesend with your worries,” she said. “He employed two brawny footmen to protect me. He did not even tell me.”
Tristan nodded. “Good. I’m glad to hear Gravesend is looking out for you.” She had no idea he’d secretly met her butler in a coffeehouse. The old man had gratefully accepted Tristan’s offer to hire the two giant footmen. What Tessa didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, but Mortland could. Tristan refused to let that happen.
On Sunday night, Tessa’s carriage turned into Grosvenor Square and jounced toward her town house. She’d attended a dinner party at Mr. and Mrs. Brook’s elegant home, where she’d left Jane for the following week. Tessa liked Mr. Hodges’s married sister. In a whisper, Mrs. Brooks had confided her brother planned to propose to Jane next week. Tessa had silently rejoiced. With a sigh, she realized she would soon need a new companion. Perhaps one of Jane’s younger sisters would be willing to fill the role.
Weariness made her a bit lightheaded. Tomorrow she must rise early to travel with Tristan and his family to Gatewick Park. The journey would take all day. She’d packed and made so many arrangements she could hardly recall how she’d managed. The moment she arrived home she planned to retire immediately.
When the carriage rolled to a stop, John, her driver, opened the door and let down the steps. She descended and saw John staring at a hackney two doors down. “Looks suspicious,” he said.
The backs of her hands prickled. She recalled Tristan’s worry that Richard would try something. Was he waiting for her inside that carriage? With those debts he’d incurred, he would be even more desperate to get his hands on her fortune.
Stop being foolish. Richard was unmannerly and relentless when he wanted something, but he wouldn’t risk doing something that would bring Broughton’s censure upon his head.
The hackney door opened. Richard stepped out. Anger spurted in her veins. How dare he try to call upon her at this late hour? “John, deter him until I’m safely in the house.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Tessa,” Richard called out in a hearty greeting.
She started up the walk at a brisk pace. A cold gust of wind blew her pelisse about and whipped through her gossamer skirts. Behind her, she heard John arguing with Richard.
“Tessa, wait,” Richard shouted.
John’s angry voice rang out. “Sir, leave her be.”
She despised Richard more than ever for his effrontery.
The front door opened. Gravesend called out, “Hurry, Miss Mansfield.”
She increased her pace, but the sound of rapid, uneven footsteps behind her made her furious. She looked over her shoulder. John was following Richard as fast as his bulk would allow.
“Go home, Richard,” she called out. “John, attend to the carriage.”
“Tessa, I must speak to you,” Richard said, hurrying despite his limp.
He was gaining ground on her. She picked up her skirts and ran toward the house. Her reticule bumped her leg, jangling the coins inside. As she neared the door, Gravesend stepped back. Bells rang. Her butler was summoning the big footmen.
She stepped over the threshold and tried to shut the door, but Richard caught it. “Why are you running away from me?”
“It is after midnight. Go home and leave me in peace.”
He shoved the door, and she stumbled back. Then he barged inside and slammed the door behind him.
“You are not welcome here ever again.” She pointed at the door. “Leave this instant.”
“I must speak to you,” he said. “I cannot let you go with Shelbourne tomorrow. I’m worried about you. Anne is worried. Don’t go with him, Tessa.”
She whirled around. “Gravesend, tell the footmen to escort him out.” She took two steps, but Richard caught her arm.
“My feelings for you have never changed, and when I saw him in your drawing room—”
“Let me go, you fool,” she hissed.
Gravesend stepped in front of him. “Unhand the lady this instant.”
Richard let her go. Then he pushed Gravesend so hard against the wall, the mirror above the hall table reverberated.
“You blackguard,” she cried as she ran to Gravesend. “Oh, God, are you hurt?”
“Run,” Gravesend croaked.
Richard grabbed her arm again and pulled her to his chest, hurting her with his tight grip. His eyes filled with contempt. “You made me a promise eight years ago, and then you betrayed me. I spent years in the filthy army because of you. You owe me.”
The liquor on his breath made her stomach roil. “Let me go,” she cried, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.
“Stop resisting,” he gritted out. “I know what you’ve been doing with him behind closed doors. You think you’ve gotten away with it, but not this time. You’re coming with me tonight.”
Tessa kicked him and wrenched out of his grasp. She picked up a vase of daffodils on the hall table and threw it at him. It shattered on the floor. Richard laughed, took a step, and slipped. He fell on his bad knee and moaned. Then he rolled to his side and writhed on the floor.
“Serves you right, you bully,” she cried.
Tom and Jack, her two brawny footmen, raced through the great hall. Seconds later, Tom yanked Richard’s arms from behind and pulled him to his scuffling feet. Richard howled like a dog.
“Hold your tongue,” she hissed.
A curly lock flopped over his scarred brow. He bared his teeth. “Bitch. How many times did Shelbourne have you?”
She marched up to him and slapped his face so hard, he jerked.
Richard’s lip curled. “Tell them to turn me loose or I’ll spill your dirty secrets to Shelbourne.”
Jack planted him a facer. Richard cried out.
Tessa’s nostrils flared. “Lower him to his knees, Tom.”
She regarded Jack. “My uncle once told me where to hurt a gentleman who becomes too fresh.” She glanced at Jack’s boots. “Will you do the honors?”
“Gladly, my lady.”
On impact, a guttural sound came out of Richard’s mouth. Then Jack slammed his fist into Richard’s other cheek. His head went limp.
“He’ll be quiet now,” Tom said.
Upon her request, Gravesend produced a leather bag of coins. With shaking hands, she rummaged in her reticule and added more money to the purse. Then she addressed both footmen. “Take the servants’ entrance. Search him before you take him outside. Strip him of any weapons, money, valuables, his shoes, and his coat. Make sure he’s vulnerable. There’s a hackney two doors down. Be quick, and try not to attract attention. Pay the driver well for his silence. Escort our unwanted guest to a dangerous location and dump him. I presume you know the foulest place?”
Jack cracked his knuckles. “Aye, my lady.”
After they hauled Richard off, Gravesend shuffled over to her. Her entire body starting shaking uncontrollably.
John hurried as fast as he could through the great hall. “My lady, are you hurt?”
“N-no. Th-thank you for trying t-to help.”
“The dastard is gone,” Gravesend said. “You may return to your post.”
John pulled on his forelock and left.
Afterward, Gravesend looked at her sorrowfully. “My lady, I failed to protect you.”
“Y-you have done so. Are you hurt, Gravesend?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Gravesend took her arm. “Let me help you upstairs.”
She made it as far as the staircase, but her legs wobbled so badly she had to sit on the step. Tessa bent over and held her head in her trembling hands.
“My lady, I am sorry I failed you.”
She glanced up at her faithful servant. “P-please, you must not blame yourself.”
Gravesend’s white brows furrowed. “I promised your uncle I would look after you.”
“And you have done so.” She must rouse herself, so he would not worry. After she stood, she grasped the banister for support. “He is gone now and will never return.”
“I fear h
e will,” Gravesend said.
She realized she’d made a critical mistake. Eight years ago, her uncle had sent him off to war. She should have sent Richard to the docks where a press gang could take him away. Oh, why had she not thought of it? Because he’d surprised her, and she’d not thought, only reacted. He was like a rat. He’d scurry out of the filthy slums and make his way back.
“Let me send a message to Lord Broughton,” Gravesend said.
“It’s very late, and I must rest. I’ll contact him after I return from Gatewick Park. I will be safe with the duke next week.”
“The duke is a fine gentleman,” Gravesend said. “Do you recollect that night he called very late?”
She hesitated, remembering their row about Caroline Fielding. “Yes, I recall the night.”
“After the duke left, he returned only a few minutes later. He saw a suspicious hackney close by. He asked me to set up a guard that night.”
Had Richard been spying on her then? Before he even contacted his sister? Probably so.
“The duke is protective of you, my lady,” Gravesend said.
The news made her heart squeeze. Her knight in ducal armor. “We shall keep a footman posted at the door from now on.”
“Tomorrow, be sure to tell the duke about that fiend breaking into your home,” Gravesend said. “He’ll take care of the villain.”
Tessa dared not involve Tristan, not when Richard had threatened to spill his guts. If Richard acted on his threats, she could not bear for Tristan to partake in her scandal.
She bid Gravesend good night and walked up the stairs. Her heart still beat madly. Richard would surface again and crawl back to his sister. Tessa figured he probably thought she was too afraid to contact Broughton. Afraid of what Richard would reveal.
After she confronted Broughton next week, he would refuse to harbor Anne’s brother. Richard would never manipulate Anne again. He would have no money. No place to stay. No one would receive him. His reputation would be in shreds. But he would have nothing left to lose, and she knew he would seek vengeance. She would take extra precautions from now on. The next time he came looking for her, and he would, she would make sure his next journey took him far, far away from England.
Chapter Fifteen
How to Marry a Duke Page 20