by Lora Thomas
Joshua gave a knowing smile.
Elena squealed with delight. “You are planning to speak to my father before dinner?”
“Yes. Now do not tell anyone. Not even Catrina.”
“Please.”
Joshua shook his head. “If you did, and your father said no?”
“Fine. But Poppa had better not say no. And do not worry, I will not speak to my father either.”
Joshua gave Elena one last kiss and departed. He was to meet Thomas at Holland’s Gym. It was a favored place of many of their peers…the St. Johns included. Both he and Thomas had won hefty sums on the bouts between Sir Matthew St. John and Sir Zachary Hollingsworth. Matthew and Zachary were two of the best fighters Joshua had ever seen. And a time or two, he and Thomas had fought both men…much to their utter dismay.
Entering the gym, Joshua looked around. Several of the regulars were inside. Some talking, others hitting grain-filled bags. Thomas was beside the boxing ring, speaking to none other than Matthew St. John. Joshua shook his head. Matthew was one of the most muscular men he had ever seen.
St. John looked past Thomas and spotted Joshua. He motioned his head in Joshua’s direction. Thomas turned, and Matthew left.
“If your mother knew you were speaking to her nephew, she would disown you,” Hawke baited.
“I truly do not care,” Thomas replied.
“What did Sir Matthew want?”
Thomas shook his head. “He was offering his congratulations upon my upcoming nuptials.”
“Congratulations or condolences?”
“Congratulations?” Thomas said with a quirk of his brow.
A contrite smile came to Joshua as he patted Thomas on the shoulder. “Let us get a bit of exercise.”
Hawke loosened his cravat and tossed it to the floor. After removing his coat and shirt, he climbed into the ring.
Huntsley followed suit. The men circled each other before Thomas took the first swing. Hawke leaned to the right and missed the blow.
“You left the Hamlin’s early. Where have you been?” Thomas asked, dodging Hawke’s punch.
“The Paxsleys.”
“You seem rather taken with Miss Paxsley.” Thomas jabbed, striking Joshua’s abdomen.
Joshua doubled over as the wind left his body. He sputtered and then righted his body. “You could say that. I plan to speak to her father tonight.”
The confession took Thomas by surprise, and Joshua landed a hard hit to Thomas's jaw. Thomas stumbled backward, reeling from the blow.
Shaking his head to ward off the stars, Thomas took a step towards Joshua. “Baron Hawke? A married man? I find that hard to believe.”
“It is true. I love the girl, Huntsley. More than you can say about your future bride.”
That remark caused Joshua to get peppered by three hits.
Joshua held onto the ropes and shook his head.
“That was uncalled for, Hawke. You know why I have to marry her.”
Before Joshua could respond, someone from across the gym called Thomas’s name. The pair stopped their bout. The man approached the ring, and Thomas met him at the ropes. The men spoke for a few minutes.
“I have to go, Hawke,” Thomas said, climbing out of the ring.
“Wait. There is something I must tell you.”
“Later,” Thomas said as he jerked on his shirt. “It seems one of my shipments is being detained.”
“Dammit, Thomas.”
“Later, Hawke,” Thomas bit out, grabbing his coat and tossing it over his shoulder. He did not need Hawke’s meddling in his marriage with Iris. It was bad enough that he had to marry the hateful bitch. He did not need Hawke adding to his misery.
Chapter Sixteen
“Thomas, you are going to wear the rug thin if you keep pacing the floor,” Miriam James, the Dowager Duchess of Whitmore, said.
Thomas did not heed her words as he paced the floor in his study. Tonight was the night of the Hamiltons’ ball. He would be escorting Lady Iris and was to pick her up within the hour. Yet, he found that he did not want to go.
“Thomas,” Miriam said again. When he did not stop, she stood and approached him. Taking his arm, in a concerned voice, she repeated, “Thomas.”
He stopped and looked at the woman he considered his mother. Miriam had raised him since he was just a babe in swaddling clothes. She cared for him when he was ill. She taught him to read and write. She mended his wounds and mourned with him when Timothy died. Miriam was kind, caring, and always had put Thomas before herself. Everything a mother should be.
“I am sorry, Miriam. I have a lot on my mind.”
“So I have heard.”
“What have you heard?”
“That Lady Iris is demanding the Summers sapphire.” A deep sigh left Miriam. “I really wish you would reconsider your marriage to Lady Iris. I do not trust her.”
“You know why I cannot.”
“Because she claims to be carrying your child.”
“In part,” Thomas said, giving a harsh look at Miriam. “You know the other reason.”
Miriam drew her brow together and shook her head. “I am afraid you will have to be more specific.”
“Father made a stipulation in his will to protect you. As an act of revenge against Father and you, Josephine forced him to put a clause into his will. I have until my twenty-fifth birthday to marry. If not, then all his lands and my remaining inheritance would go to Josephine.”
Sorrow filled Miriam’s eyes as she shook her head. “I swear to you, Thomas. I had no idea. Why are you just now telling me this?”
“Because I did not want you to feel burdened by the knowledge.”
“But why would Timothy do such a thing? He despised your mother.”
“To protect you.”
“Me?”
“Unless Father agreed to that stipulation, Josephine was going to have Uncle Marcum use his influence to force you to return to Belgium.”
Miriam closed her eyes. “I am so sorry, Thomas. I did not know. If I did, I would have never allowed him to agree to that.”
“I know. But now you know the other reason that I must marry Iris.”
“I still do not believe her, Thomas. Iris Parker is about as monogamous as you are. You do know that she had visitors while you have been away.”
Thomas did not respond. He turned from Miriam and approached the liquor cabinet. Pouring two goblets of wine, he carried one to Miriam.
She took the beverage.
Thomas sat down in one of the burgundy leather chairs and observed Miriam. He could see why his father loved her. She was beautiful; however, her kindness made her even more stunning. Her brilliant mahogany locks had not grayed and were styled fashionably. Her figure was still youthful, but having no children of her own aided in her shapeliness. Piercing blue eyes were outlined with dark lashes.
“Look, Thomas. Like your father, you are honorable. However, you are not a fool. I believe Lady Iris is trying to dupe you.”
“You sound like Hawke and Artie,” Thomas gruffly replied.
“Your multifarious group of friends?” She furrowed her brow as she pondered the men. “Smart men. You should heed their sound advice.”
“I appreciate your counsel, Miriam. But I cannot allow another man to raise my child.”
“And how would you feel if you raised another man’s child? What if the child she is carrying is not yours? Could you raise and love that child as your own?”
“You did,” Thomas replied crisply.
The sound of Miriam’s quick intake of breath caused Thomas to flinch.
“I apologize,” Thomas said.
“You should be remorseful for that comment. I was more of a mother to you than Josephine Summers could have ever been. And would gladly do so again. However, I knew that you were not my child. Timothy did not try to pass you off as my child.”
“That would be a little difficult.”
“That is not the point, Thomas,” Miriam chided. �
�The point is that Timothy was not trying to deceive me. Iris is trying to deceive you. She is vindictive, so be careful with her, Thomas. I tried to warn you against her, but you would not listen.”
“She did not give me cause to think she was otherwise than what she appeared to be.”
“Because she is deceitful. She knows how to play this game.” Miriam approached Thomas and placed a hand upon his shoulder in a motherly fashion. “Just make sure this is what you want. Once your vows are spoken, you will be bonded with her. Like your father was with Josephine.”
“I believe you married as well,” Thomas rebuked.
Miriam pulled her full lips into a thin line. “I had no choice, Thomas. If I had, I would have never married Julius James.”
“You could have left.”
Miriam snorted. “Left? How? I was a foreign diplomat in London with my father. My king arranged that marriage. If I had refused, then not only would I have been executed, but my family as well. I was forced to marry that wretched duke. How was I to know that I would fall in love with your father during my time in London? My only blessing was that Julius died a year after we wed.”
“Why did Father marry Josephine if you were in London before all this?”
A deep breath left Miriam. “His marriage to Josephine occurred years before we met. He offered to leave her for me. But I knew your father.” Sadness filled her blue eyes. “He was an honorable man…like you. If he left her, guilt would eat at him. He dearly loved his family. If we left, then the dishonor he caused his parents would break him. I could not allow him to do that. I could not allow him to dishonor his father’s wishes, for I knew what it would do to Timothy. It would have crushed the man I fell in love with.”
“No more than Josephine did.”
Miriam placed a hand upon Thomas’s face. “I know. They lived hating each other.”
Thomas covered her hand in his. “He hated what the ton said about you.”
She kissed his forehead. “I heard their harsh words, and it hurt. I knew what type of people were spreading those words. Hypocrites. They hated me but longed to know me. I was a dowager duchess. The widow of the Duke of Whitmore. They scorned me, yet they wanted to be in my good graces. Now, I simply do not care.” Smoothing down a lock of his dark, brown hair, she righted herself. “Now, my carriage is waiting out front. I will see you at the ball.”
Thomas nodded.
She turned at the doorway. “You know, Thomas, I heard a rumor that Catrina Wilcox will be there.”
Thomas’s mouth parted.
“I see the rumors are true. You are interested in the lady.”
Thomas shook his head. “No.”
The knocking upon the front door echoed down the hall.
“Good evening, Lord Hawke,” the butler said.
“Grand evening it is, is it not, Henry?” Hawke replied, swatting the butler upon the back.
Miriam gave a rueful glance at Thomas. “Do not be like your father.”
“Ah!” Hawke said, approaching Miriam. “The most stunning dowager duchess in all of London.”
“Joshua, you are such a flirt,” Miriam said.
Hawke placed a kiss upon her cheek. “It is not flirting when it is the truth.”
“You are in high spirits tonight.”
The smile upon Hawke’s face widened. “How could I not be? I am to marry the most beautiful, remarkable, intelligent, sassy, candid woman in all of London.”
Miriam returned his smile. “Congratulations, Joshua. Who is the lucky lady? Elena Paxsley?”
“How did you know?”
“I heard a rumor you have been calling upon her frequently. Treat her well, Joshua. Her father has a famous temper.”
“I will. Is Huntsley riding to the ball with you?”
She shook her head. “No. I will be traveling alone this evening.” The clock chimed six. “Now, look at the time. I must be off.”
Hawke watched Miriam leave before turning to face Thomas, his expression now solemn. “We need to talk, Huntsley.”
Thomas stood. “Not now, Hawke. I need to pick up Iris.”
“Dammit, Huntsley! I have been trying to get with you these past three days, and it has been impossible. This cannot wait!”
“If it is about your marriage, I already know.” Thomas started towards the door.
“It is about yours, Huntsley.”
“You cannot stop it, Hawke. I will marry Iris in two weeks—”
“The child she’s carrying is not yours!”
Thomas stopped and turned, staring blankly at his friend. “What?”
“She is trying to wed the wealthiest of her suitors. She is a cold-hearted vixen, only after your sovereigns.”
“You are saying she is pregnant but not by me?”
Hawke nodded. “Yes.”
“How did you come by this information?” Thomas pondered. “Did you get your spy in place?”
“No. However, I cannot reveal my sources. Just know the information is accurate.”
Thomas’s features were set in hard lines as he looked at his friend. His words were tight and frosty as he spoke, “That bitch.”
“I am sorry, Thomas. I knew this was not the information you wanted to hear.”
Thomas shook his head. “Not particularly. It wounds one’s pride, knowing how easily a set of batting lashes can fool one. Does Iris know that you know?”
“I do not know. I learned of this information shortly after leaving the Hamlins.”
“And you are just now telling me this?”
“I tried the day I learned of this, but you left Holland’s.”
Thomas cocked his head to the right and pointedly said, “You left the Hamlins with Miss Paxsley.”
“I did.”
“And did she deliver this information to you?”
Hawke’s mouth parted slightly. “Look, Huntsley. I know you think Elena might have an ulterior motive, but she does not. I believe her.”
“Of course you do. You are swayed by a pretty face.”
“Dammit, Huntsley! Think, man. Iris’s father is bankrupt. Just days before his debtors demand payment, Lady Iris tells you she is with your child. How can that be? You were at Swindon for several months before going to Eden.”
“I was with her before I traveled to Swindon.”
“But not while you were there. She had several male visitors during that time frame.”
“That still does not mean the child is not mine.”
“It is not yours. She had her flux after you left for Swindon.”
Thomas pressed his lips together, and his face turned red with anger. “That damned bitch,” he seethed.
“Then you are gonna love this,” Hawke mumbled.
Thomas whirled to face his friend. “What else?”
“One of the men who visited her was Branson Wilcox.”
“You mean she is trying to pass that sod Wilcox’s bastard off as mine?”
“It sounds like it.”
Thomas approached his desk, his fists clenched at his side. Glancing down at the top of his desk, he spotted the ring box. He was planning on giving it to Iris this evening. Now, things had changed. His palms hit the top of his desk with such force, the ink well sitting on top fell to the floor, spilling the dark liquid upon the rug.
A deep growl left Thomas.
“What are you going to do?” Hawke asked.
Thomas shook his head. “I have no bloody idea. I was supposed to escort that bitch to the Hamiltons’ this evening. Now, I fear if I am near her, I will wrap my hands around her throat and watch the life leave her worthless body.”
“I have a better idea. I am escorting Elena and Miss Wilcox this evening. Arrive with Iris as planned, but spend the entire evening with Miss Wilcox.”
Thomas shook his head. “I cannot place Miss Wilcox in the middle of this fiasco.”
“Why? Elena said that Miss Wilcox’s brother is arriving in a few weeks to take her back to Swindon. Give Iris the cold
shoulder by wooing Miss Wilcox.” Hawke knew it was a devious scheme. Elena had confessed to him that Catrina loved Thomas. And if Hawke knew his friend, then Thomas loved Catrina as well. It was now just a matter of planning and manipulation to get the two together.
“I cannot do that to her. Miss Wilcox is a unique lady, but I will not play upon her hopes only to send them crashing down around her. You do know her brother is arranging a marriage for her, right?”
“I heard as much.”
“I will not—”
“Look, Huntsley. Catrina despises Iris as much as you do. She would love nothing more than to bring that viper down a notch or two.” Hawke knew he needed something to sway Thomas into this endeavor. Why not a small white lie? “And besides, she has agreed.”
Thomas’s eyes widened. “What? Catrina knows?”
“Yes. She knows of Iris’s transgressions.” Now to make certain, Huntsley would agree. “It was her idea. She needs her revenge against Lady Iris as well. Iris did try to drown her, if you recall.”
“It was her idea?” Thomas was not certain whether to laugh or strangle Catrina.
“Elena helped put the notion in her mind.”
“Ah, I knew Miss Wilcox could not be so devious.”
“So you agree?”
“No. I cannot be near Iris after this, Hawke.”
“Just tonight, Huntsley. Flaunt Catrina Wilcox in front of her. Devote your entire evening to Catrina. Let the wagging tongues of the gossips feast upon your behavior. Allow them to label Iris as a jilted bride. And when her belly swells, shout to the rafters that it is not yours. Allow her to be humiliated at the worst level.”’
“You realize that empire dresses hide these things well. And when the dresses no longer camouflage her condition, she will simply leave, right? They all leave.”
“Damn. I forgot about that.”
“But you do have a point. I will agree with this nonsense. I will take great delight in ignoring Iris and giving Miss Wilcox every ounce of attention I possess. And then, as I leave the ball, I will break it off with Iris. Publicly.”
“She will cause a scene.”
“I know.”
“I thought you hated when people made public scenes.”
“I do.”
“Then, why do it? In private, you like to puff about creating a spectacle. But in truth, you know it is important to behave like a gentleman in public.”