Rogue Countess

by Amy Sandas

  Jude lowered his head and met her defiant gaze with undisguised hatred. “You wouldn’t know the truth if it wrapped itself around your pretty little throat,” he growled low in his chest. His fury made him react with the instinct of an animal caught in a cage. “You know exactly why I couldn’t get out of bed. And it wasn’t you, I assure you. It was a delicate and inescapable little trap you set, dear wife.”

  Anna’s thick eyelashes flickered over her glaring gaze. His words revealed something she had never been aware of, but should have guessed. He had been drugged. Of course. It answered so many questions she had about his behavior that morning. Her father had certainly thought of everything. She felt sick to her stomach and her throat closed with the suffocating weight of the past and where it had brought them.

  Controlled rage radiated from his hard, muscled body as it trapped her against the wall. His fierce and angry heartbeat pounded against her chest. Distrust was vivid in his eyes. This was what she had expected from him every time she imagined his return. The hatred, the disgust.

  What she hadn’t expected, and what she had perhaps been too naïve to imagine, was how she would react to the heat of his anger.

  “So what do you want now, Jude?” she asked coldly, shielding the raw emotions of regret, loss and her own personal sense of betrayal churning in her stomach. “What brought you here? You followed me all the way to Newmarket—” she sneered, “—you must want something.”

  “An annulment. I want to end this farce of a marriage. I will not allow you to remain a part of my family. You will no longer be allowed to drain from wealth you do not deserve to fund your amusements.”

  “I never took a damn thing from your family,” Anna replied from between gritted teeth.

  Jude’s laugh was rough and hollow. “Of course, you bought that extensive estate I just came from with money you found on the ground. Or was it a lover who purchased it for you?” he asked, his eyes sliding with cold appreciation down the length of her throat to the shadowed V at the top of her breasts. “You must be a very good mistress to earn such a gift.”

  Anna’s blood shot to boiling. His accusation that she had taken advantage of his family left her with an acrid taste in her mouth. From the second she had landed on the doorstep of Silverly, she had been determined to accept nothing that might have even the slightest connection to the man who had left her to face her new life alone.

  But rather than deny his ugly accusations, she coated her words with thick and heavy sarcasm. “Of course. What other option would a woman like me have? I couldn’t possibly have managed to come by all of this solely on the strength of my own intelligence, determination and hard work.” Her smile then was not pretty as she cast him a sly glance from beneath thick sooty lashes. “I assure you I earned every bit of what I have. As you said, I am very good at what I do.”

  “You disgust me.”

  “Fabulous!” Anna exclaimed with frustrated fury. “Now let me go.”

  Jude didn’t seem the least bit affected by her physical struggles. His hold never loosened and her thrashing could have been that of a kitten for all of its effect. After a moment, she realized the futility of her fight and she stopped with a huff. She rested her head back against the wall and glared up at him.

  “You are quick to cast stones, my lord. How can you justify such a self-righteous position when you have proven yourself to be a depraved and dishonorable scoundrel?”

  One golden brow arched over his unmoving glare. “Depraved, perhaps. But the only thing I have ever dishonored is this farce of a marriage.”

  “And me!” Anna shouted. She was reaching the limit of her endurance. Her anger was going to support her for only so much longer.

  He laughed, a short rough sound. “Do not expect me to feel remorse or pity. You are not deserving of it. I owe you nothing,” he replied with utter conviction.

  “And I owe you nothing,” Anna retorted. “Especially not an annulment.”

  His eyes flared with black fire. “You have no choice in the matter.”

  “Don’t I?” Cunning intellect sparkled in her gaze. “You will need to prove proper cause, my lord.”

  His smile was wicked in its lack of humor. “If you’ll recall, we never had a wedding night.”

  Anna’s reply was thick with malice. “I’ll lie and say the marriage was consummated. There was plenty of time in the carriage ride to the house following the ceremony.”

  Jude glared at her as he weighed her response. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “You don’t know me very well,” she challenged. “Actually, there are several ways I can make an annulment very difficult to obtain,” she added with haughty certainty.

  “You are that opposed to ending this marriage?” Jude asked as he shifted against her. “Then perhaps you should act like a wife. Starting now.”

  Anna didn’t even have a chance to take a breath before his mouth fell on hers, hard and cold and unmoving. Her lips were crushed against her teeth and her head was pressed back against the wall. She brought her hands up to his upper arms, trying to dislodge him, but he wouldn’t budge. Her eyes darted to the side, trying to find something she might be able to use against him.

  Then something unexpected happened. He shifted his stance and his head angled to the side. At the same time, his hand came up to wrap around the back of her neck, squeezing the tension there. His mouth changed too. It softened just the tiniest bit and his lips parted against hers. She was so startled by the change such minute differences made in the overall tone of the kiss that when his tongue pressed forward, she didn’t even think to resist. In fact, she tilted her own head to allow him better access. And as his velvet tongue swept inside her mouth, her limbs flooded with jittery warmth. Her fingers curled around the muscles of his biceps and her lower back arched involuntarily. Every thought flew from her mind as she was overcome by burning, shuddering sensations pulsing through her entire body.

  She found herself answering the dart of his tongue with a sliding exploration of her own. His breath was rich and intoxicating. His body was strong and encompassing. And Anna once again experienced a yearning for so much more of him.

  That was when he stopped. His head lifted just enough to break contact between their mouths. Anna’s breath expelled on a sigh as she lifted her stunned eyes to meet his. She stiffened at what she saw there.

  “It seems you are that good,” he murmured with ugly approval.

  Anna’s eyes widened as every ounce of the desire he had roused within her fled as if blown away by a gale wind. Her body tensed with a depth of fury she had never known.

  “I hate you,” she muttered through her teeth.

  Jude’s mouth spread in a smile that more resembled a snarl. “We are on the same page then, wife.”

  He stepped away from her and she wasted no time in swinging around and stepping into her mare’s stall. She leapt up into the saddle without the assistance of a mounting block. All she could think about was getting far away from him and the unwelcome feelings he created. She settled her feet into the stirrups and urged the horse from the stall.

  “I will have the paperwork necessary to dissolve our marriage sent to you as soon as possible.” Jude’s voice was formal and distant, a stark contrast to the passion she had just experienced in his arms. Clearly, he had felt nothing of the same.

  Anna stopped her mount and looked down at him. She tried to infuse her voice with the same cold finality. “Feel free. But you won’t get your annulment. It is the least I can do for such a devoted husband.”

  Not the slightest bit concerned with what he would think of her vindictive refusal, Anna pressed her heels to her horse’s sides and the well-trained thoroughbred leapt into an instant and powerful gallop. The sound of pounding hooves resounded through the dingy stables for only a moment before she turned onto the road and gave the horse free rein.

  Chapter Six

  “What the hell is the matter with you tonight, Sinclair?” Lord Rutherford deman
ded.

  He and Jude sat in a pair of leather armchairs pulled up in front of a low-burning fire at their club. They were supposed to be enjoying a few quiet hours with expensive French brandy and delicately rolled cigars from Jamaica. But as Rutherford had just noted with cantankerous candor, Jude was not displaying the appropriate mood for the gentlemanly pursuit of socializing.

  “For the last hour, you have been altogether unresponsive. We are supposed to be having a good time, and frankly, you are boring me.”

  Jude turned his scowling gaze back to his friend. “I suppose I am distracted tonight.”

  It was a gross understatement.

  He had remained at Silverly only long enough to meet with the estate manager and go over the current state of the Blackbourne properties. He was very pleased to discover that everything was running smoothly and the estate was making excellent profit under the capable management of Mr. Harding. He shouldn’t have expected any less. His father would only have chosen the most competent and reliable fellow to handle such important business. Jude was pleased to see that in many cases, some very modern practices had been put in place.

  After setting up further meetings with Mr. Harding in London to discuss additional possible improvements, Jude decided there was not much else keeping him in Essex.

  Even his mother seemed anxious to see him go. Initially, when he had found out Helena seldom traveled to town anymore, he had worried that she might be lonely after losing her husband. He soon discovered the error in his assumption as visitors poured in throughout the day. His mother ran a veritable court of local peers and gentry. And she was clearly very contented with her position as the reigning social queen of Essex.

  Jude had returned to London determined to find a solution to the unexpected difficulty his wife had proven herself to be. He could kick himself for declaring her identity in the middle of the crowded Newmarket tavern. It would have been much better to handle the matter discreetly. But then he had expected to find her flaunting her association with the Blackbourne family, not concealing it. It rankled his pride she would reject his family name.

  In truth, public opinion didn’t matter to him nearly as much as his liberation. Annulment proceedings could be ugly. His mother may never forgive him the scandal. But he was prepared for that. What he hadn’t expected was that the woman might completely refuse him. And there was no way he could have anticipated his personal reaction to her.

  Every time he thought of her, he became filled with anger and lust. An uncomfortable combination. He wouldn’t be able to approach his problem properly if his mind was twisted by such opposing emotions.

  When he had returned to London and Rutherford suggested a night at the club, Jude thought it a perfect opportunity to spend some time among old friends with great spirits, excellent food and better conversation. Surely such masculine pleasures would return him to his natural state of ease.

  His estimation of the evening couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Jude swirled his brandy in his palm as he jerked his head toward the group gathered across the room. “Do you know that woman?”

  Rutherford didn’t bother to turn his head to see who he spoke of. There was only one woman in the place, after all.

  “Is that what has you wound so damn tight? I would have expected all your time abroad to give you a more open-minded perspective.”

  “Well, what the hell is she doing here?” Jude muttered in an unforgiving tone. “This is a gentlemen’s club. One of the strictest rules of this establishment is that no women are allowed.” He heard the petty intolerance of his words and hated it. He abhorred such limiting sentiments, but his current frustration got the better of his greater intelligence.

  Rutherford sighed, clearly intimating that the subject was old news and not necessarily worth the waste of conversation. “This happens to be the exception which proves the rule then. She was given honorary membership a little more than a year ago. Lord Derby sponsored her in a flush of generosity, and when it came up for a vote of the members, it went through.”

  “She was Derby’s mistress?”

  Jude’s voice was dark and cold, but Rutherford didn’t seem to notice the underlying tension in his friend’s question and shrugged noncommittally.

  “Could be, though I doubt it. Didn’t seem like that kind of relationship. More professional than personal. She doesn’t come in very frequently.” He lifted his brandy in a jaunty salute. “Just your luck, I guess, to be here on the same night.”

  Jude’s scowl deepened as he watched the beautifully gowned woman participating in a lively debate with a group of older gentlemen. They were too far away for him to overhear the topic under discussion. Considering the men involved, it likely had something to do with horses and racing.

  Her business, he remembered with a sneer of irritation. When he had stopped at her estate in Suffolk before tracking her down in Newmarket, he had not missed the well-filled stables behind the main house. Were those old men her generous patrons? Did she trade her personal favors for their financial contributions?

  “What the hell have you got against the woman?” Rutherford asked with a curious little smile. “By the look on your face, one would think you have a problem with her personally. As I said, she doesn’t invade our refuge too often—” he shrugged, “—and to tell the truth, when she does, the conversation does tend to be more interesting.”

  Jude looked at his friend with narrowed eyes as a terrible suspicion formed in his mind. “Just how well do you know her?”

  Rutherford arched his aristocratic eyebrows. “Not as well as you are thinking, old chap. Not that I didn’t try. But it was years ago.” He took a sip of the warmed brandy and glanced across the room at the lady in question. “To be honest,” he continued in a lowered voice, “she set me down so thoroughly and bluntly, I didn’t even consider pursuing the matter further.” His lips curled with sexual interest and he added, “Maybe it’s time I approach her with a better offer.”

  “Like hell you will,” Jude growled.

  Rutherford looked back at him with lifted brows. “What’s gotten into you, Sinclair?”

  “Have you no idea who that woman is?” Jude asked.

  Rutherford glanced back across the room as he answered. “Of course. She is Mrs. Anna Locke. No one knows who her husband was since he apparently abandoned the woman, though I can’t imagine why. She showed up in the racing circles several years ago and has been around ever since. Wait a minute.” He looked back at Jude with a spark of some long-forgotten memory swimming up through a mind clouded by years of fine alcohol and disinterest in anything that did not involve him personally. “Weren’t you courting a Miss Locke before you left for the continent?” He tapped his fingers against his forehead. “I cannot recall the particulars, but there was something scandalous, I am certain.”

  Jude’s scowl grew deeper. Was it really possible that his friend could have no memory of the marriage that had driven him from England in the first place? He supposed he should be grateful for the ton’s short memory when it came to scandal. Likely his mother had taken swift action to curb the spread of vicious gossip. But in this case, he was just annoyed at having to explain his ugly history, especially to a man who had once been his best friend.

  “That woman’s name,” Jude said as he gestured with the cigar clamped tightly between his fingers, “is not Mrs. Locke. She is Anna Sinclair, the Countess of Blackbourne.”

  The look of confusion on Rutherford’s face would have been laughable if the subject wasn’t so pathetic. “But that would make her your—”

  “Wife,” Jude finished for him.

  “Bloody hell!” The other man looked at Anna again with widened eyes. “Lovely piece you bagged there, Sinclair. Why in God’s name did you run away from her?”

  “She didn’t look like that eight years ago, I assure you,” Jude answered stiffly. He wasn’t about to go into the more pertinent details of why he had left his wife hours after uttering the blasphemou
s vows to cherish and protect her. “Maybe you could be a fine chap and fill me in on what you know about my wife.”

  Rutherford shook his head, a stunned look still pasted to his strong aristocratic features. “Not much more than what I’ve said already. She has a thoroughbred farm in Suffolk. Fine horses, many of them have become champions or have sired them. She’s very popular among the racing set. She talks their language, you can see,” he added with a casual gesture toward the group gathered around the lady under discussion.

  “And her social entanglements?” Jude questioned. “Any jealous lovers I may have to contend with while I remain married to the woman?”

  Rutherford glanced back at him with a flicker of curious interest. “You mean you intend to release her?”

  “As soon as possible.” He narrowed his gaze in warning. “And I’ll be grateful if you’ll keep your breeches closed until my connection to her is severed.”

  “Not a problem, my friend. She’s likely to be a bit vulnerable for a time. I will be sure to be there for her to lean on when the moment is right.”

  “Just do your courting far from me, you cocky bastard,” Jude answered.

  It was hard to tell with his old friend how much of what he said was in jest and how much was in earnest. Rutherford had a way of saying things simply for the reaction they caused in others rather than to express any true feelings.

  “Am I to assume she is not currently under another’s protection?” Jude repeated through gritted teeth.

  “If she is intimately involved with anyone, it would be Lord Riley.” At the questioning lift of Jude’s brow, Rutherford continued. “He’s a younger fellow, runs in a different set. Don’t know much about him except that his father, Viscount Neville, has successfully drained his inheritance dry. Riley has found a way to supplement his income and is said to be very accomplished.”