The Duke's Bride: Book 5 (The Clearbrooks)

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The Duke's Bride: Book 5 (The Clearbrooks) Page 8

by Teresa McCarthy


  Emily blew out a harsh breath. “Well, and I thought you the sweetest, most innocent little thing.”

  Jane shrugged. “I surprise even Roderick sometimes.”

  “I would say so,” Emily said, laughing. “But how you are with child is beyond me. Wait,” she giggled. “Not that I am saying anything about Roderick, and well...you did tell me. Oh dear, I am sticking my foot in my mouth, am I not? Please rescue me, dearest.”

  Jane’s smile froze.

  “What is it?” Emily asked, frowning.

  “They are here,” Jane said, her heart racing. She paled, watching as Lady Horatio and Lady Philomena skirted the ballroom. Their bright red and purple gowns were hard to ignore, not to mention the fancy feathers waving about their high curled coiffures.

  Emily turned. “Oh, good gracious. I cannot believe they were invited. Last week, they announced Lady Paxton was seen in a carriage with Lord Boxby. All I can deduce is that Lady Paxton wants to prove to them there was nothing to it.”

  “Who is that beside them?” Jane asked, relieved that Lady Horatio and Lady Philomena were engaged in conversation with their host. “The woman seems quite pretty. I cannot get a good look at her though. She reminds me of someone.”

  Emily fingers clamped on Jane’s arm. “What do you think about a walk outside, dearest? I find the air in here is rather warm, don’t you?”

  Jane had a sinking feeling the lady was someone she would not like to know. “Em, who is she? And no excuses. I am not going anywhere.”

  Emily curled her lips. “That is Lady Trayton.”

  Jane’s delicate brows rose in question. “And?”

  “Um, do you recall a certain Susan Wimble?”

  Jane blinked. “The Susan Wimble that tried to steal Jared from you?”

  Emily nodded, her face grim. “She claimed she was engaged to him first. She is quite the actress. After I married Jared, she married an earl who was old enough to be her father.”

  “Lord Trayton, I presume?” Jane asked, watching as the woman, clad in a breathtaking turquoise gown, floated into the room. She was absolutely gorgeous with her shiny dark hair and big, luminous eyes. “Yes, I remember her now. Good grief, I just did not recognize her in her new hairstyle and dazzling gown. She was quite pretty before, but now, she is stunning.”

  “She gave birth to a son,” Emily continued. “And the earl died a happy man. He had an heir.”

  Jane didn’t like the thought of the woman competing for Jared’s affection, even if it had been years ago. She turned to Emily and smiled. “But she is nothing compared to you. I vow Jared never looked twice at the lady after you came along.”

  Emily giggled. “Oh, Jane. You are ever the innocent. He was more or less engaged to her, if you recall. But that’s in the past. However, do not distract me. Back to Roderick. You should tell him about your little surprise before he leaves for France. Jared mentioned something about them leaving this week.”

  Jane twisted her hands against the light fabric of her gown. A sob rose to her throat. “I don’t know why life has to be so complicated. I am having a baby, but Roderick won’t hear a word I have to say on the matter. I told him to his face, but he acted as if I had said it was raining outside. Is that not the silliest thing in the world?”

  Emily frowned. “Silly, indeed.”

  Roderick slapped the cards on the table and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his wine. “You owe me five thousand pounds, Garette.”

  The young earl took another swig of his brandy. White blond hair hung over his eye. The man pulled out his snuff box, shook a bit on his wrist and inhaled. “I shall give you my vowels, Elbourne.”

  Roderick grimaced. He glanced at Jared and his brothers. Clayton and Stephen were frowning from across the room. They all knew Garette could be a handful when sober, but when drunk, the man became impossible.

  Roderick didn’t care a thing about the man’s I.O.U.’s. In fact, Garette was so drunk, he was swaying in his seat. Roderick had tried to ease the young lord out of the game, but the fool just wouldn’t leave.

  “Very well,” Roderick said, wishing he had never sat at this man’s table.

  Devil take it. His treatment of Jane and the sight of her watery blue eyes had taken hold of his heart. He had walked into this room as an escape, and as luck would have it, he had sat down at the first table he had come upon. Garette’s. No doubt, he would have to accept Garette’s notes to cover the man’s pride.

  Roderick stood and took the man’s papers. It was a shame. The young lord was barely a man. He was a handsome boy, wide-shouldered and strong as an ox. But Garette gambled too hard, drank like a fish, rode like a demon, and chased skirts like a bloodhound. His vices were going to kill him, if not a vengeful husband first.

  “Wait,” Garette roared, stumbling over his chair. “You cannot leave now. Need to play again.”

  The remaining men sitting at the table howled with laughter.

  “Get yourself some tea, young pup,” one of them shouted. “You’ve had enough spirits to float the entire English navy.”

  “You ain’t big enough to play with Elbourne, or any of us for that matter,” another man bellowed.

  An older gentleman at another table looked up from his hand of piquet. “By Jove, man, have your mama get you some more milk and grow some brains. You ain’t big enough for the likes of us.”

  Lord Garette’s pale face reddened with embarrassment. His lips thinned and his hands clenched.

  Roderick scowled. Garette’s mother was dead. That last comment was a low blow.

  Roderick took hold of the young man’s arm and dragged him toward the door. “You’ve had enough of wine and cards,” he said in a low whisper. “Get sober, then we’ll talk.”

  Cursing, Garette jerked from Roderick’s hold and staggered away. “Get your dirty hands off me! I don’t have to be sober to know Argyle’s moving in on your woman! You may think you have bested me in cards, but Argyle’s bested you in females.” The young lord’s laugh was hollow. “Don’t have to be a duke to figure that one out!”

  Every muscle in Roderick’s body stiffened in rage. “You, sir, are playing with fire. I suggest you sleep it off and keep your mouth shut.”

  A brittle silence hung over the room as all heads turned toward the two men.

  Roderick’s mouth became a thin, white line of fury. He towered over the young buck by a head and could barely keep from plowing a fist to the man’s face.

  A low murmur rumbled throughout the room.

  Defiance filled Garette’s face as he gaze around. “I said what I said.”

  Roderick’s steely gaze impaled the man. “Did you hear me? You had best keep your mouth shut or I shall shut it for you.”

  Garette glared back, putting up his fists.

  Roderick barely heard the rush of footsteps behind him. Someone grabbed his elbow, yanking him aside. “Roderick.”

  Roderick glanced over his shoulder and growled. Jared’s dark eyes met his. “Leave this matter to me,” Roderick snapped in a low voice.

  “Don’t,” Jared said under his breath. “Hell’s teeth. He’s a loaded cannon, Roderick. Let it go.”

  Roderick leaned forward. “You think I shall let this peabrain insult my wife?”

  Clayton had moved beside his older brother, blocking the view of the rest of the room. “What do you think you are doing? Jane will have your head.”

  Roderick cursed when he saw Stephen enter the fray. It took all Roderick had not to turn and tear Garette apart. He spoke through clenched teeth. “If one of you gentlemen does not eject that man from the premises, I have no idea what I will do.”

  Stephen nodded, his face grim. He turned and grabbed the swaying Lord Garette by his cravat. “I believe you will be taking a little air, dear boy.”

  Garette growled and tried to disengage from Stephen’s grasp. “I ain’t wanting to leave. Need to recoup my losses.”

  Stephen sneered. “Oh, you shall need more than that if t
he duke decides he would rather remove you from the premises, old chap. Now, move along.”

  “Elbourne will shoot your head off, you stupid idiot!” someone yelled. “By Jove, get moving!

  Roderick was barely holding himself back from attacking the man. But anything more would set the tongues wagging. He took a step toward Garette and uttered with a deadly calm. “Leave now. Or devil take it, I may take out my pistol and shoot you.”

  Garette flushed in humiliation. With a little push from Stephen, the young man fumbled for the door. “This ain’t over!” the drunk lord shouted, turning to the room. “You may be a duke, but you don’t own England!”

  Roderick swore and shook off Jared’s hand from his arm. Vengeance raged in his veins. But before he could get to Garette, someone slid a hand over Garette’s neck and yanked the young lord in the air.

  “You may take back your words about the duchess, my good man, or I am going to slice your belly with my knife.”

  The room went completely silent as Captain Argyle pulled out a shiny blade from his coat. Roderick narrowed his eyes on the captain. He had not even seen James enter the card room. Where the devil had he come from?

  Lord Garette began to whimper and fell to his knees as the glint of steel waved beneath his nose. “I take it back! All of it! The duchess is a sweet lady!”

  “And?” Argyle growled, narrowing his emerald gaze.

  Garette was almost sobbing. “And she is a true lady in all things. There is nothing between you and her. She is a lady. Always has been. Too much to drink. Don’t like to lose.”

  The room was so quiet, Roderick could hear a pin drop. Now, the captain was fighting his fights? Devil take it!

  Argyle shook his head, signaling for Garette to leave. The young lord scrambled to a standing position and shot out the door. Stephen followed the man to make certain he removed himself from the ball.

  Roderick tore up Garette’s vowels and dropped them to the floor, then strode from the room. The murmur of male voices drummed in his ears, blending with the notes of a country dance coming from the ballroom.

  By Jove, he thought, this was just the kind of gossip Society would love to use against Jane.

  Chapter Six

  Jared, Clayton and Stephen left the card room and returned to the ballroom while Roderick, still simmering from the encounter, made his way to the gardens in the back of the mansion to clear his head.

  “I find that shooting the man may have been more to your liking, Your Grace.”

  Roderick spun around. His gray eyes glittered with fury as he took in the tall, handsome man staring back at him. The captain was of his height and just as muscular. “You think too much of yourself, Argyle.”

  A tense silence stirred between them.

  Roderick regarded the man with a cool glare. The captain had been becoming quite friendly with his wife, and now, the man had defended her? Roderick didn’t like it at all.

  “No words?” Roderick mocked.

  The captain’s green eyes gleamed like that of a panther, dangerous and knowing.

  Roderick could understand why many women drooled over this man. Indeed, the captain had once been his friend. But when rumors of Jane and him had begun to circulate about the ton, Roderick had been livid to discover the tales held some truth. In fact, the couple had been seen in close company at the bookshop, the Upper Assembly and even at the Pump Room. Not that Jane would do anything wicked, but Argyle was definitely no saint.

  Roderick felt the blood pound in his head. And confound it, Jane was his!

  Argyle pursed his lips. “Are you quite done wondering if you are going to box my ears?”

  Grey eyes clashed with green as the tension mounted.

  Roderick leaned against a tall oak and folded his arms over his chest. A yellow moon hung low in the nighttime sky, allowing dappled shadows to play across the gardens. The captain’s face flickered beneath the light, and he seemed quite put out. Surprised at the man’s reaction, Roderick waited for him to speak.

  The captain shoved his hands into his pockets. “I do not like rumors, but I fear your wife may get the worse of this night and not Garette.”

  Roderick snarled. “If it were not for your grand chivalry, she would not have the problem in the first place.”

  The captain’s teeth flashed in the moonlight, setting Roderick’s nerves on edge. “I have never touched her. Not the way Garette suggested.”

  Roderick believed him. “You are seen with her. I don’t like it.”

  “Confound it, you fool! If you acted like a husband in love with his wife, we wouldn’t be in this predicament at all, would we?”

  Roderick pushed off the oak. It was too dashed close to the truth, making him feel madder than a stuck pig. “By Jove, James! Do you have a death wish? Because if you dare say one more word about my wife, dare mention her name, I shall call for you at noon. And if you know what’s good for you, you will travel back to London and never see my wife again.”

  The captain tilted his head toward the mansion. Pale green eyes glittered beneath the moonlight as they came back to settle on Roderick’s face.

  “Do you love her?” the captain finally asked bluntly, his challenging words a blow to Roderick’s pride.

  Roderick’s jaw stiffened. His gray eyes narrowed. He took another step toward the man and spoke in a threatening tone. “If you have some feebleminded notion that you are going to claim her, you have another thing coming. She is my wife! The only way you can have her is if you kill me. Is that on your agenda?”

  The captain let out a low chuckle. “Ah, we were once friends, Roderick. But it seems your jealousy has jammed a wedge between us, just as your arrogance and know-it-all attitude has sliced your marriage in two.”

  It was all Roderick could do not to thrash the captain within an inch of his life. But that would seal the rumor, casting Jane as a fallen woman. “I think you had best leave before I do something I may regret. I have no wish to have Jane’s name dragged through the dirt. Your gallantry will carry you only so far, friend or not.”

  The captain glowered at him. “You arrogant fool. I find your wife a lovely woman, quite lovely indeed. And quite innocent. But by Jove, you know nothing about her.”

  Roderick moved swiftly. His fist shot out, making contact with the captain’s jaw, sending the man stumbling against the rose bushes.

  The captain looked up in stunned amazement. He wiped a hand over his bloody lip and rose from the bushes. His emerald eyes gave off a dangerous glint. “So, that’s how it is, is it?”

  Roderick gritted his teeth. Every nerve in his body was taut with anger. “That’s how it is,” he growled.

  The captain nodded as he exercised his jaw. “I hope you know the lady is quite a prize. And plague take it, if she were not married, I would sweep her off her feet and make her mine in no time. But it seems you still love her. I cannot fight that, because I believe she loves you too.”

  With one last disapproving glare, the captain spun on his heels, giving Roderick his back as he disappeared through the gardens and left the ball.

  Roderick stood there while all the fight rushed out of him. Hell’s teeth! What a blasted mess!

  Jane sat in the corner of the ballroom, too tired and frustrated to stand. She stared at another vase filled with roses and swallowed past the ache in her throat. The roses had seemed so beautiful before, but now they seemed quite lifeless.

  Her mind kept returning to her conversation with Lady Hassleby only five minutes ago. The older lady’s eyes had traveled over her in a critical manner. “You are looking quite sickly, Duchess. Might I suggest, a diet of pickled tongue and strawberries? The bloat of all those cakes and pies can take a toll the female body, don’t you know. Makes a husband look to others, if you know what I mean. All men do have their vices. You should be thankful the duke is in the card room tonight,” she had said, lowering her voice. “La, I happened to see Lady Trayton a few minutes ago. Heard she tried the pickled tongue and it
did wonders for her.”

  Pickled tongue indeed.

  Jane had excused herself from the lady’s side, claiming a headache, taking the seat she had now.

  She would not wallow in self-pity. However, she was second-guessing her evening tonight. She would have to curtail her outings from now on. Compromising her health was the last thing she needed.

  She rested her head against the wall, almost falling asleep, when Agatha tapped her hand. “My dear, I think it best you take your leave. You should be in your own bed.”

  Jane blinked sleepily. “It must have been the punch.”

  Agatha’s forehead creased with worry as she stood beside her. “I think it is something else, and you, my girl, had best tell the facts to that husband of yours before he heads off to France.”

  Jane lifted her gaze higher. “Oh, so you heard about France, did you? Why am I not surprised.”

  Agatha shrugged. “I am an old woman who hears many things when people do not think I am listening.”

  Jane laughed, leaning her head against the lady’s hip. “Oh, Agatha, I love you. And you are not old. But perhaps I should never have come tonight.”

  “We cannot go back and relive the night. But I do think it time you leave.”

  Jane’s gaze widened, and she sat up. “Drat! Lady Horatio and Lady Philomena are coming this way. I cannot believe the gall of them, approaching me after our little tête-à-tête in the Pump Room.”

  Agatha scowled. “I shall take care of this matter, my dear. One whack with my parasol to their behinds, and they will be scurrying off like frightened mice.”

  Jane could not help but smile. “Agatha, please. Don’t make a scene.”

  “Oh, very well. I am only thinking about your condition. Never fear, I will set them onto some other scent, those big-nosed bloodhounds. You certainly don’t need to be bothered by them again. I will take care of them straight away.”

  Jane shook her head when Agatha took the two ladies by their arms and set off in another direction.

  “I believe we have met before, Duchess.”

  Jane’s head snapped up at the sound of the female voice.

 

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