Accidental Peers 03 - Compromising Willa (26 page)

Augustus’ legs quivered. He barked a harsh laugh, longing to slice that smug look off the demon’s face. “I will marry an heiress, a wealthy one. That will cover my debts.”

Hartwell raised a brow. “And will you tell her that you are unmanned? That you cannot sire children?”

Augustus’ chest felt as though an enormous stallion was bucking against it. He could barely take air into his desperate lungs. “What are you talking about?”

“Your mistresses are very accommodating, especially when coin is involved. Although some of them were willing to sell you out for a tumble. But we both know I am a very happily married man so that was of no interest.”

Augustus’ temper flared. “You, sir, are disgusting and unworthy of her—”

Hartwell continued as though Augustus had not spoken. “I was very interested to hear there are doubts about your virility among the lightskirts you associate with. So I had my man investigate further.” Hart paused, taking a luxurious pull of his cheroot. “It is interesting that you are unable to complete the act with a woman unless, not surprisingly, it involves violence or some sort of depravity. I understand your whores have to use their considerable skills to keep your rod at attention. The equipment seems to work all right until you actually try to bed a woman in the traditional way.”

Augustus emitted a laugh of genuine amusement. “You always were a fool who never understood the true power of the peerage. There will always be an heiress willing to wed an earl, no matter how low on funds or hapless he may be.”

“Perhaps. But an heiress with the amount of blunt you need can afford to be choosy. Why would she take a risk on someone such as yourself?”

He relaxed, feeling the power shift in the room. “I shall make some plain nobody a countess. Surely, even you are not so addle-brained that you can’t comprehend the power of that.”

“I will personally see to it that your malady is well known. Imagine the tales the
ton
will tell about the limp earl’s hapless attempts to catch an unsuspecting heiress.”

Augustus sat forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “People like us are never held to account. You should know that better than anyone.” His eyes held Hart’s. “Just ask Erskine.”

“The man you raped.”

“It was all in good fun.” Augustus smiled at the memory, recalling the rush of excitement he’d felt during the incident. “He was lucky to be among his betters.”

“I doubt that was his thinking when you and your friends held him down and took turns violating him.”

“He fought like the devil, I can tell you that.” His blood heated at the memory of the vicar’s son struggling as they mounted him, one after the other. But the skinny bastard had refused to give them the satisfaction of hearing him scream. He hadn’t uttered a sound as each rowdy drunkard had extracted his pleasure from Erskine’s unwilling body. “But his sort never win, it is the way of the world.”

“You are no longer dealing with the son of a vicar.” Disgust twisted Hartwell’s features. “You cannot harm people without regard for the consequences. You will not escape so easily this time.”

“You are so wrong. I already have.” Augustus savored the cool satisfaction of victory that settled deep in his bones. “I’ve had both a duke and the daughter of a marquess attacked, all without consequence.”

The devil stiffened. “You are responsible for Willa’s attack at the coffee house?”

“I arranged much more than that. I made certain her tea delivery went missing to see if she would try to replace it. I wanted her good and frightened so she would give up such silliness.” To Augustus’ supreme satisfaction, Hartwell’s fingers whitened as they gripped the arms of his chair.

“How could you know she would be in the alley that afternoon?”

“She was riding in my carriage and, like a fool, alighted to continue the rest of the journey on foot. I sent my footman after her to impart a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget.” He smiled. “The scheme was brilliant until you stepped in and ruined my plans. Setting footpads upon you seemed the most expedient way to be rid of your tiresome presence.”

“You hired the footpads who attacked me outside of Brooks,” he said in an even voice. “What was their mission exactly?”

“To knife you in the gut and leave you for dead,” he snarled, allowing the full depth of his hatred to saturate his voice. “Clearly, they botched the mission.”

“Clearly.” Hartwell took a leisurely drag on his cheroot. “Why are you so certain I won’t have you hanged for what you’ve done?”

“Who will believe you? Everyone knows you’ve hated me since university.”

“I thrashed you after coming upon you leading the attack on Erskine.”

“But no one knows that.”

“I gave Erskine my word of honor that I would never breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Augustus smiled. “Interesting how that has worked to my advantage. They all think you harbor a deep-seated jealousy of me. If you bring these baseless claims before the lords, they shall laugh you out of the chamber.”

“Tell me, Gus” —cold dark eyes assessed him— “do you ever wonder what became of Erskine?”

“Never. Why would I?”

“Because he rose to become a magistrate here in London.”

Augustus brows lifted. “I suppose that is as high as a vicar’s son can expect to reach. I fail to see what interest that would be to me.”

A voice came from the doorway. “It is of interest because I have just heard your confession.” Erskine stood on the threshold. No longer a thin, slight boy, this man carried himself with confident certainty. “You’ve just admitted to attempting to murder a duke and to attacking the daughter of a marquess.”

Augustus’ stomach heaved.

The devil smiled. “I see you begin to comprehend. Both a duke and a magistrate have heard your confession.”

The contents of Augustus’ stomach spiraled upward with stunning speed. Unable to stop the bile-fueled surge, he wretched, spewing vomit across the floor. Humiliation coursed through him at the sight of disgorged matter splattered on his boots.

Hartwell gave a small snort of disgust. “So here is what will happen. You will go abroad at once. I don’t care where to. You will never show your spineless face in England again.”

Erskine shot Augustus an expressionless glance before turning to go. “Your Grace, if that is all, I have matters to attend to. My men are outside if you have need of them.”

Hartwell nodded. “Thank you for coming.”

Perspiration clouded Augustus’ vision. He pushed to his feet, trying not to sway. Sidestepping the mess on the floor to move away from Hart, he uttered, “This is ludicrous.”

“Consider yourself fortunate. I spare you a trial by your peers so that my wife’s sister won’t be tainted by your disgrace.”

The walls closed in on him, the sound of his own breathing screamed in his ears. “You will not get away with this.”

“I already have. Pray control yourself, Gus. I’m in a hurry to go home to my duchess. Now listen and listen well. You will go abroad. I will retain the vowels. Your brother, Horace, and my lovely new sister, Adela, will run the earldom in your absence. I understand Horace is quite good with numbers.” Hartwell paused to brush lint off of his jacket. “The terms of my conditions are that you never marry, which alleviates the very slight risk that you might actually be capable of begetting a legitimate heir. Adela and Horace’s son will inherit. Until then, I shall be content to let Horace make reasonable payments from estate rents and profits. And who knows, perhaps my wife and I will forgive the remaining debt once our nephew inherits your title.”

Panic fogged Augustus’ mind. He couldn’t let this man ruin him. To go abroad, he would be reduced to nothing. The humiliation of it was too much to bear. His gut wrenched again but his stomach was already empty. “And if I refuse?”

Hart sauntered over to the dresser, crushing his cheroot down into a plate to extinguish it. “I will use all of my considerable power as the Duke of Hartwell to see you tried and hanged for attempting my murder. Our peers will not look kindly upon someone who tried to do away with one of their own.”

His stomach turned over again, making his mouth water with the sour taste of bile. “I’ll see you in Hades.”

“Just as long as I never see you in England again.” The demon’s dagger-like features sharpened. He approached and brought his mouth close to Augustus’ ear. “No estate. No fortune. No heir. Your unfortunate line ends here. I have all but obliterated you.”

Murderous hatred and despair raged through Augustus. He was helpless to control his destiny. His legs began to give way, so he sank down onto the bed.

“Interesting, isn’t it, that you plotted my wife’s demise in a chamber much like this one. But it is your ruin that has been orchestrated here today.” Hartwell strode from the room and paused in the doorway, his face dark with satisfaction.

“You are ruined. Utterly and completely.”

…

Willa sat at her dressing table regarding herself in the mirror. She was dressed for the ball her mother and Cam were throwing at Camryn House. She wore the silver and lace gown from her wedding and her hair was dressed in a similar fashion, with light touches of silver interwoven among her curls.

She was so focused on studying her reflection she didn’t notice Hart come in until he stood behind her. He, too, had already dressed for the ball in his usual stark black formal wear with a blinding white cravat, his hair pulled back.

“Admiring your beauty, I see.” He looked at her in the mirror. “Not that I blame you. I can barely take my eyes off of you myself.” He cupped her cheek tenderly with his hand.

Willa’s heart leapt as she looked at her husband. His confident bearing and sharp dark features never failed to light a little fire inside her. Willa’s eyes returned to her own reflection. “Am I really beautiful? Both Flor and Addie say it is so. Can you credit it?”

Hart smiled and dropped a kiss at the nape of Willa’s neck, the sensual warmth of his lips causing her to shudder with pleasure. “Of course I believe that. Everyone knows you are beautiful, Willa.” His hand rested on her shoulder. “Everyone but you apparently.”

Willa put her hand over Hart’s where it rested on her shoulder. “How is it possible to be beautiful and not be aware of it?”

Hart gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Bellingham made certain gentlemen stayed away from you. You weren’t courted as you should have been given that you are a diamond of the first water.”

She felt a pang of anger. “A piece of my self-regard. Another thing he stole from me.” Her eyes caught Hart’s in the mirror. “Speaking of Augustus, I hear he has gone abroad. Do you know anything about that?” Hart shrugged, allowing his hand to drift from Willa’s shoulder deep into her décolletage.

She closed her eyes, heat chasing through her. Standing, she turned around to face Hart with a luminous smile. “I suppose I should thank him. Augustus Manning brought me the greatest gift of all.”

Hart furrowed his brow, his blue-black eyes darkening. “And what exactly might that be?”

She reached up to kiss him. “You, of course, foolish man. If he hadn’t interfered with my life, I might have married some boring viscount long before you decided to come back from India. That would have been a true tragedy.”

“Speaking of India.” He took her into his arms. “I must undertake a voyage there in the near future to attend to business.”

Her heart dropped. “How long will you be gone?”

“About three months. Do you think that will be enough time for me to show you India?”

She blinked. “Truly?”

“You said you wanted to see the world.” His dark eyes sparkled. “We’ll begin with the Taj Mahal. Perhaps we shall explore Greece next year.”

She made an exclamation of surprise and threw her arms around him, sprinkling his face with kisses. “You are the finest husband any woman could ask for.”

“It is admittedly a bit selfish on my part.” His arms closed around her. “I cannot be without my duchess. And I am quite fond of the manner in which you choose to show your gratitude.” He brought his lips down on hers with a fullness and urgency that startled Willa and began walking her backwards towards the bed.

“Hart,” she laughed, breathless, trying to break free. “What are you doing? We are already dressed for Mother’s ball.”

He didn’t seem to hear her. Hart swooped down, picking Willa up and tumbling onto the bed with her. His kisses were hungry and demanding. He tore away his cravat then reached to pull up the skirt of her silvery white dress.

Willa’s body burned for him and she cried out when her husband’s determined fingers reached the spot he’d been searching for. She tugged at Hart’s shirt, trying to pull it off. “What are we doing? This is madness,” she panted just before his mouth closed over hers again. He began to pull off her dress.

“Since you are in your wedding gown, I think it only appropriate that we replay our wedding night.” Hart undid Willa’s stays and slipped off her chemise, leaving his wife clad only in her stockings. “It did not end as satisfactorily as it should have.”

His tongue began a tantalizing journey down her body. “And this time, dear wife, I promise to satisfy your every desire, since you have already delivered so thoroughly on all of mine.”