Dancing With A Devil

by Julie Johnstone

  Once inside the carriage and headed for his home, he squeezed his eyes shut with a groan. What the hell was he going to do now? He was an excellent shot. It was not bragging, but a fact. One had to be a superb shot to make sure one stayed alive when on assignment. Trent examined his options but found only one reasonable enough to contemplate. Tomorrow, he could notch his gun ever so slightly to the right to ensure Bridgeport suffered nothing short of a surface wound on his arm, but would the irrational fool feel vindicated if he was shot? Trent’s gut twisted. He didn’t want to wound Audrey’s brother. The man was the biggest imbecile, but he was defending Audrey’s honor.

  “Damn it all,” he growled. His own idiocy and lack of control had caused this whole sordid situation. If he’d simply learned why she had called him there, tried to help her if he could and kept his bloody distance between them.

  He brooded the rest of the way home and by the time he reached his house, his mood had gone from foul to lethal. He stocked past his butler Pickering and into his study.

  Trent growled as he entered the room and flopped into his chair. He yanked his cravat off, threw it on the settee and pulled open the collar of his shirt. It might be cool outside, but his study was suffocating. Or maybe it was his conscience weighing so heavily that the air around him felt smothering. How the devil he’d ended up in such a shocking position in a public place with Audrey tonight confused him. Not only had he compromised her, but he might have been disloyal to Gwyneth. It didn’t matter there was not a speck of love inside of him for his wife. He had loved her when he married her, and he’d treat her honorably regardless of how she treated him. “Hell and damn.”

  He kicked his boots off, thumped his feet on a stool and laid his head back to squeeze his eyes shut. He needed to think. Clearly, calmly and methodically. Audrey deserved nothing short of a marriage proposal, but he couldn’t give it to her. If it were possible, he would do it. He wiped at his brow, seeing not his cozy study but the rat-infested French prison Gwyneth had left him in. That was what marriage had brought him before. Not trust and fidelity, but lies and betrayal. And he had been about to willingly marry again. But this time would have been different. He would have protected himself better.

  “Pickering,” he bellowed, needing a drink now more than ever.

  His butler appeared within seconds.

  “I need a drink,” Trent said before Pickering was fully through the study door.

  “Yes, my lord, but―”

  “No buts. Just my drink.”

  Pickering opened his mouth to speak and Trent held up a forestalling hand. “Listen, Pickering, I hear myself. I know I’m being an ill-mannered, unmitigated tyrannical bore, and I beg a thousand pardons. But tonight has been tedious. I’m beginning to think it will never end and I’m stuck in some earthly dimension of my own personally created hell.”

  Pickering cleared his throat. “My lord, you have a visitor.”

  “A what? I just got home.”

  Pickering smirked. “Yes. And your visitor just arrived. I take it you didn’t hear the door.”

  “I’ve things on my mind,” Trent grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and mentally ticking off the possibilities of who would dare to come here this late. “Is it Dinnisfree?” The duke had been the only one close to him who had not already stopped by today.

  “No, my lord. It’s―”

  “My mother? My cousin? My brother? Tell whoever it is I’m indisposed. I’d likely offend whoever has come to see me.”

  “Don’t worry,” came Audrey’s throaty voice, heavy with sarcasm instead of its usual warmth, “I doubt there’s anything further you can say that will offend me more than you already have.”

  Trent surged to his feet and nearly shoved Pickering out of the way to get to Audrey. He had her in his arms and crushed against his chest before he realized what he’d done. Hell. He stiffened. He was doing it again. Putting them both in a terrible situation.

  Before he set her away, he took one long inhalation of her fragrant honeysuckle hair. He nearly groaned aloud at the lust and yearning her smell ignited. Disentangling himself, he stepped back. Her cold eyes and withdrawn expression chilled him to the bone. Gone was her smiling radiance. He had done that.

  For one indomitably long moment, she stared at him, and then her lips parted, her nostrils flared and her green eyes glistened like polished emeralds. She whirled away so he could not see her face. Her skirts swished around her ankles in her haste. He could not blame her. “I’ve come to speak with you about the duel.”

  Of course. She wanted to protect her brother, even at the risk of ruining herself. His admiration for her grew. Damn the duel for a moment. “Audrey, I’m sorry.”

  “You should be.” Unmistakable hurt vibrated her tone. Her back arched slightly and her hands clenched at her sides. His gut twisted into painful knots. For once in his life, he was completely at a loss for what to say to a woman. “I assume I’ve upset you.”

  She whirled to face him. Blistering color stained her cheeks and made her freckles turn red.

  “Of course you did,” she snapped. “But I am not here to talk about my feelings. I am here to beg you not to fight my brother. Will you grant me this one wish or will you deny me that as well?” Her foot tapped rapidly in front of her, but her trembling lip gave away the riotous emotions inside her.

  That he was causing her pain made him feel as if someone had plunged their fist into his chest and was slowly squeezing his heart without mercy. Self-loathing filled him. He couldn’t rectify any of this. If he died right now, it would be a well-deserved fate.

  For a breath, he half expected his heart to seize yet the damnable thing beat on. The only reparation he could offer was the smallest sliver of the truth. “Audrey.” He stepped closer to her, but she scuttled out of his reach, looking very much like a wounded deer. His heart tugged in the strangest way. “I want you to know I would marry you if I could.”

  Her shoulders sagged and the quivering of her lip increased until she bit down on it. She notched her chin up and squared her shoulders. By God, she was brave and beautiful.

  “If you could?” Her tone was a harsh accusation. “Are you trying to tell me you are incapable of marriage or just not desirous of a marriage with me?”

  Pain spiraled through him at the sudden whiteness of her complexion and the way she crossed her arms as if to protect herself. He had to tell her more. She deserved more of the truth. Damn everything else. He would pay all the consequences later. “I’m trying to tell you I’m already married.” Saying the words aloud made him wince. He teetered between the feelings of relief and failure.

  “Married?” Her brows came together, causing a deep crease between her eyes. “Surely you jest?”

  “I wish I did, but it’s true. I’m married or at least I think I still am. I can’t say for certain.”

  “You can’t say for certain?” Her hushed broken tone made his chest tighten.

  When she swayed, as if she might faint, he grasped her by the elbow and curled his fingers around her slender arm. “Do you need to sit down?”

  Do I need to sit down? Trent’s question echoed through Audrey’s mind. Considering her world seemed to be tilting at a precariously odd angle, Audrey decided that yes, she did indeed need to take a seat. Her legs gave way beneath her the second she let go of her pride. She fully expected to crash to the floor, but Trent circled his strong arm around her waist and crushed her to his side. At the force of the impact against his solid thigh and chest, her breath released from her body with a shuddering whoosh.

  For a moment, she was too dazed to speak. He was married? A fiery ball of anger formed in her chest. No, he’d not said he was married. What he’d said was he thought he was married, but he couldn’t say for certain. The ball in her chest burst and sent sparks of humiliation to every corner of her body. Her scalp burned with the heat of disgrace; her toes tingled with regret.

  There was no way to deny it now. Her father had been one hundre
d percent correct. Or had he? She had to know for sure. Did Trent love her, but the fact he was married held him back? She wanted to throttle him, but she desperately needed to hear the whole story. The heat radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck in puffs of deliciously warm air invaded her senses. If she didn’t ascertain how he really felt she would always regret it. Of course, once she knew, she may regret that more, but not to ask was unacceptable. She wriggled in his arms. “Let me go. I’m fine to stand on my own now.”

  “Audrey.”

  The pleading note in his voice almost undid her. Part of her wanted to stay in his arms and part of her wanted to slap him. What she needed most was distance. She shoved hard against his chest and ducked under his arms when his hold loosened. Scampering backward, she put several paces between them. “It’s interesting you aren’t sure whether you’re married or not. I don’t suppose you care to explain how one comes to be in that state or why you didn’t mention it sooner?”

  “I came to be married as all people do. I met a woman I loved and asked her to marry me.”

  His nonchalant reply twisted her gut. So he had loved his wife. Or he still loved her. Did it really matter? Audrey felt wretched. On the way over, she’d been quite certain she could never feel worse, but she’d been wrong. “Then why the secrecy?”

  “There’s no secrecy. I thought my wife was dead, and now I’ve learned I might have been mistaken.”

  “So that’s why you didn’t tell me?” That at least was half-honorable.

  “Among other reasons.”

  Any charity she felt fled out the door. “Such as?” She hated that she couldn’t control the angry tone of her voice.

  Trent rolled his shoulders, a habit she knew he reverted to when he was uncomfortable. Good, the devil deserved to be more than uncomfortable.

  He cleared his throat. “No one but two other people know I was married and I prefer to keep it that way.”

  Didn’t that just take some bollocks to ask her to keep his dirty little secret? The anger inside her threatened to consume her. She advanced on him with a pounding heart. “Whatever were you doing with me?” she demanded. “Or is that quite naïve of me to ask?” She poked him in the chest and forced back the scream lodged in her throat. “Were you simply seducing me?”

  “God, no,” Trent thundered.

  “What then?” Her blood roared in her ears. She was going too far. She knew it, but she couldn’t rein herself in. “Tell me what I was to you.” The wounded tone of her voice made her cringe but she forced herself to continue. She had to know. Had to. “If you weren’t possibly married would you have asked me to marry you? Do you―” She could barely force the question out, but now was not the time to be meek. “Do you love me?” The whispered question was so low she barely heard it herself. How appalling to have asked such a thing, yet she wouldn’t take back what she had asked. To never know would be torture. All her loneliness welled within her in one large knot of yearning. She wanted his love. Even if she could never have him, knowing she had his love would be enough.

  He stared at her, his complete shock evident in the widening of his eyes and the color leeching from his face. “Audrey, I would have offered for you last night if I knew I was free to do so.”

  That was no answer. She gritted her teeth before speaking. “Last night? Only just last night? Not before we were caught? Your hand seemingly forced.” She was helpless to stop the rage mingled with humiliation that made her shiver.

  He yanked his hands through his hair, a loud sigh coming from him. “I had made up my mind to offer for you at the wedding breakfast. I even went home to send your father a note so I could ask him to court you, and then I got notice that my wife might be alive.” His gaze raked over her face. “I thought we could have a very beneficial marriage.”

  “Beneficial marriage?” She would have sworn she’d heard him wrong except his nod confirmed she’d heard him correctly.

  He reached for her and she reacted without thought by whipping her hand through the air and slapping him. The contact of her open palm against his cheek echoed in the silent room. “That’s what I think of your beneficial marriage idea.”

  Her hand stung but no more than her pride. With as much dignity as she could muster, she clasped her hand to her chest and glared at him. “I would call you a fool, but I daresay you’re too thick skulled to realize the truth.” The mocking tone of her voice masked her bleeding heart. She had to get out of here before she dissolved into tears or worse threw herself at his feet and begged him to love her. Raising her chin, she said, “Now that matters are settled between us, I demand as repayment for you toying with me that you not show up to duel my brother.”

  “For God’s sake, woman,” Trent growled, “I did not toy with you.”

  She cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at him. It was either that or scream, and screaming would hardly make her look unaffected by him. “You may say whatever you like, but we both know the truth. I do not want you shooting and killing my brother. You’ve done quite enough already.”

  The tic at Trent’s temple beat so furiously she worried for one second she’d gone too far. His mouth compressed into a thin, hard line before he seemed to calm enough to speak. “I’m sorry for my part in your father’s death, and I’m sorry for kissing you on the balcony last night.”

  His words obliterated whatever shred of dignity she had. “I feel so much better now,” she replied, each word punctuated with icy loathing, of herself as well as him.

  “Damnation, Audrey.” Like a flash of light, he grabbed her and yanked her to him, her chest crashing against his. “You misunderstand me.” He pressed his face close to her head, his lips brushing against her ear. “I care for you very much.”

  That was not love.

  “I intended last night to never touch you, but you undo me.”

  Audrey struggled out of his grip and clutched the material of her dress. She wanted to press her hands to her ears to block out what he was saying, but she never wanted him to know how much his words hurt her. The aching sincerity of his voice told her he was truly trying to explain himself and that he’d never meant to hurt her, but his words made everything worse. What was between them had nothing to do with love, on Trent’s part, and everything to do with lust and convenience. If she’d wanted to marry for mere passion or suitability she could have done it five times over by now. She wanted love. His love.

  She clenched her teeth and forced her thoughts to order. “Before I leave, I’ll need your promise that you won’t go to the duel.”

  “Did you hear a word I just said to you?” Exasperation was evident in his tone and rigid stance.

  Had she heard him? It was hard to keep the disbelieving laugh inside, but she did. “Your promise, please,” she said levelly, choosing to ignore his question. It was the only way she’d escape this room without tears.

  His features hardened. “I cannot give you that promise.”

  “You blackguard,” she spat, unable to hold back her anger. How dare he refuse her request?

  The small scar on the right side of his face reddened. She’d seen it do that several times before when he was irritated about something. What nerve he had to be irritated with her. She inhaled a sharp breath, gathering air to blast him with stinging words of anger. As if he could read her mind, he held up a silencing hand, the look on his face one of fierce warning.

  “My failing to show up at the duel will not appease your brother. I believe it will anger him further. He will take it as a further slight, though it is the furthest intention from my mind. I fear he may take out his anger on you if he cannot get to me.”

  She blanched, knowing he was undoubtedly correct. For a moment, she was tongue-tied. The fact that he seemed genuinely concerned for her welfare touched her and confused her. “Then what’s to be done? I can shoot a pistol better than my brother, and that’s not saying much.”

  The smallest smile graced Trent’s lips and the strangest look skittered across
his face, gone before she could truly read it. Scorn? No. The smile had been real, not mocking. It had appeared more like… Her breath caught in her throat. Admiration. But for who? Surely not her. Focus, silly nitwit. Nothing else but her brother mattered. “Do you have a plan?” For the oddest reason, she felt sure he would.

  Trent shrugged. “I’ll simply delope. Our seconds will call the duel. The wrong to your honor will be answered and your brother’s pride will remain intact.”

  A reluctant surge of gratitude filled her. She offered a sharp nod. “I thank you. And now I must be off, before I’m discovered gone.”

  Trent snorted at that. “If you’re worried about your brother discovering you missing, I left him not more than an hour ago on the street in front of White’s. He’d had quite a lot to drink and didn’t appear near in the mood to be heading home.”

  Audrey frowned at Trent’s news. “Did you run into Richard or seek him out?”

  “I sought him out in hopes of avoiding the duel for his sake, as well as yours.”

  “Oh.” The large lump now lodged in her throat prevented her from saying more. The fact that Trent had gone out of his way to try to end this mess affected her, and she didn’t want to be touched by him. Or rather she did, and that was the problem. Irritation at herself and Richard made her clench her teeth. Blast Richard. It was unseemly for him to be cavorting around Town with Father not even buried in his grave. She understood better than anyone the differing tugs of sorrow and strange nothingness he likely felt in relation to Father’s death, yet Richard owed Father’s memory respect. Tomorrow, after the mess of the duel was behind them, she would speak to him and take him to task on straightening out his life now that he was the new marquess. His drinking simply had to stop.

  “Audrey?”

  Trent’s gentle question snapped her out of her musings over Richard. Trent now stood so close to her the flecks of gold in his green eyes were visible. The fluttering of her heart frightened her. Even now, after everything she knew he still affected her―blast him. She turned sharply toward the door, not wanting him to see the longing probably written all over her face. Before he could stop her, she flung open the door and called over her shoulder loud enough for him to hear, “I must be going now that our business is concluded.”