My Dearest Friend (Books We Love Regency Romance) (23 page)

“I can assure you that details of the duel will become common knowledge,” scoffed Darrows, “just as soon as your lovely wife becomes my mistress, as she so eagerly promises. Indeed, are you sure that she is not already my mistress? You must know you have become tiresome to her and she seeks pleasure elsewhere. Why else should she come to London? She could have sent the money to me.”

Involuntarily the duke’s hands clenched into fists at his side and he would have started forward, but in that instant Sir Richard brought the pistols for inspection, giving Darrows first choice.

“Now, gentlemen,” he said taking the role of referee “I want you to each take ten paces and on my command turn and fire. Should one opponent fire before the given signal, if he misses his target, he must stand and let the other discharge his weapon without defense, however if he kills his man then he will be shot. Do you both agree to the terms?” Both nodded in agreement and fastened their coats across their chest so that the white of their shirt should not provide their opponent with an easy target.

“Then, gentlemen, I will begin the count.”

Each antagonist paced out the ground, turning on the count of ten to stand sideways to face his opponent. On the command to fire, they simultaneously raised their arms that were seen to jerk with the recoil of the weapons. The first ball whined past the duke’s face scorching his cheek, the other found its mark in Darrows’ chest and he pitched heavily forward. Almost immediately, a third shot rang out and the duke turned sharply in time to see
Proctor drop his arm after discharging a shot and one of Darrows’ seconds sink to his knees grasping his wrist, a cocked pistol on the ground before him. “Thank you,” he said simply.

Proctor
nodded briefly in response and strode forward to retrieve the discarded weapon.

Sir Richard hurried toward Darrows’ recumbent figure, turning him over the better to examine him
.

“Dead?” enquired the duke coldly, as he replaced the pistol in its case. Sir Richard nodded and an unpleasant smile flitted across the duke’s countenance. His green eyes remained as flint, giving no indication as to what extent Darrows’ last words had seared his very soul.

He would have taken a bullet rather than hear those words. He knew in his heart that they were untrue, but nevertheless they cut through him like a knife. The mere fact that Darrows had uttered such malicious lies concerning his wife created in him a torment that would be difficult to quell.

Chapter
Fifteen

Jane sat at the escritoire set before the large bow window in her aunt’s drawing room. She had been composing a letter to Harry assuring him that his debt had been discharged, that Proctor had taken the money to Darrows, but explaining that she wished to remain in London a while longer. However, half way through the missive she found it necessary to call a halt to her writing and wipe away the tears that would roll down her cheeks and drop relentlessly onto the letter, rendering her words illegible.

She would have given anything to be back at
Stovely, for life to be returned to how it was so short a while ago. So few weeks, in which the unthinkable had happened, she had lost her husband’s love. She had felt safe in his devotion, confident that he returned her adoration. But what now? Had she alienated herself from him forever? Thoughts of their last encounter rose to torment her. How did Robert think of her? Did he think of her, or had she given him an irreparable aversion of her? What would have been the outcome if she had only stayed to listen to his pleas instead of being so determined to hurry from his side? Did he think her to have absconded to be with her lover? Would she, by remaining, have changed the course of what now appeared to be her future? She had been used merely as an innocent pawn in Darrows’ nefarious game and she knew not his reasons, only that his actions had served to set her husband against her. She felt the injustice of Robert’s accusations and railed against his mistrust. She had believed their love indomitable, but Darrows had proved her wrong.

This thought proved too much for her and she dropped her head onto her arms and gave way to the sobs that rose unbidden.

A light scratching came on the door and the footman entered giving a polite cough to attract her attention, and as she raised her head he bowed courteously. “There is a gentleman to see your grace. He would not give his name, but said that you would receive him, ma’am.”

“Give me a few moments, and then show him in,” said Jane, attempting to wipe away all signs of tears. As the footman retreated she went to stand before the large round mirror placed over the mantle to examine the effects of her weeping. Not entirely satisfied with what she saw, she pinched her pale cheeks to try to restore some of their color and was just attempting to replace a stray strand of hair when the door opened and her husband stood before her.

For a moment they stood staring at each other, both finding it impossible to bridge the gap between.

The duke was the first to recover his voice. “I wish you good afternoon, my dear,” he drawled, advancing further into the room. “I trust I find you well?”

The mockery in his voice was just too much for Jane to bear and irrationally, she felt her temper rising. “And of what interest is it to you, sir?” she replied in what she hoped to be indifferent tones. “How come you to know my whereabouts?”

“
Shall we say, through a mutual friend,” he replied, noting her pallor and the redness of her eyes. He so desperately wanted to embrace her, to obliterate the sadness so evident in her dear face, but a reserve existed between them that he could not brook.

“
Then it was no friend if they gave you my direction,” she snapped. This was not the man she had come to know, this was the man that had reigned before he met her, his cold indifference making her feel almost as if he smote her.

Momentarily he held his hand out to her in a conciliatory gesture but as she turned her back to him, he let it drop to his side.
“Will you not be seated and then we can continue our discussion in a more civilized manner,” he said in a slightly more appeasing tone. “Come, Jane. Let us not be so antagonistic, there is much to be said.”

She turned and for the first time saw the scorch mark on his cheek and seeing her curious gaze, he touched it lightly with his fingers. “Battle scars, my dear,” he said attempting at levity. “Now do be a good girl and sit down and I will tell you about it.”

“Don’t be so condescending,” she replied waspishly, but sat on the couch all the same, holding herself tensely erect in the corner.

Placing himself at the opposite end, the duke studied his wife
’s profile as she declined to meet his gaze, then he played what he deemed his trump card, “Darrows is dead.”

That did make her turn to face him and to start up from the couch only to be seated again.
“How?” she asked, eyes wide.

“
I shot him,” he replied simply. “Hence the crease on my face.”

“
Why?”

“I know all, and perhaps a little more,” he replied taking the satchel from where he had placed it unnoticed on the floor and laid it on the cushions between them. “What you don’t know, my dear, is that I am the cause of all this turmoil. If it had not been for my actions in apparently ruining Darrows’ cousin at the card tables, then there would have been no reason for him to try to take revenge. Darrows was attempting to even the score by wreaking his vengeance on my family. I found it necessary,” and those green eyes showed no mercy, “yes, so very necessary, to put an end to the matter.”

“You called him out?” she whispered.

“Not quite. I made it unavoidable that he should call me out, thus reducing the risk of scandal and assuring that your name would not be mentioned. Society and the law can forgive a duel fought over a gambling debt, and if it is the challenger who dies, then it is the more easily forgotten.”

“When?”

“This morning,” then seeing the tears once more course down her cheeks, his anger inflamed, Darrows’ words still so fresh in his mind instantly returning.
“What! You weep for him?”

“No!”

“Then why the tears? Am I so easily hoodwinked? Am I such a fool as to think you indifferent to his death?” and he rose to stand threateningly before her.

How could she tell him in this moment of anger that it was for him that she wept? The futility of the situation overcame her so completely that she could not find her voice, and when eventually she did, it was to utter the greatest lie of her life,
“I hate you, Robert.”

“
That may be so, my dear,” he replied coldly, confirmed now in his fears, “but I warn you, you will be packed and ready to leave here by morning. You will come to Blake House. It will cause too much comment amongst the scandal mongers now it is known that I am in London, should you remain in your aunt’s home and not with me where you belong.”

Choosing to misinterpret his words she cried, “Belong? Must you always treat me as a possession, Robert, I am your wife. You do not own me.”

Snatching her from the couch he kissed her savagely only to throw her back again onto the cushions. “Do I not?” he asked, a dangerous calm in his voice. “I and the law believe that I do. Heart and soul, you are mine. Everything you are belongs to me!”

“Never,” she cried facing him defiantly. “Had I known you were such a tyrant I would not have married you.”

“You did not always find me a tyrant, my dear,” he scorned, his anger and jealousy making him reckless, not realizing how Darrows’ words had served to inflame his resentment.

“
Then, sir, I did not know you,” she replied mirroring his anger. “I will come to Blake House only because I have nowhere else to go. I would not wish my aunt to become aware of the situation between us, but I assure you, as soon as I am able, I will find alternative arrangements. I shall require my own apartments to which you will only gain access with my permission.”

He gave a shout of mirthless laughter.
“You do not order me in my own house, madam. I will gain access where I wish. Do not think to trick me in that way, but I will give you your rooms, your inner sanctum. Believe me; you will be free of my presence there!”

“That is all I desire.”

“Then you are very easily pleased, my dear! Be ready at noon, Proctor will collect you.”

***

Returning to Blake House the duke ordered a bottle of brandy to be brought to the library and there spent the remainder of the day, his mood turning to the morose. It had not been his intention to conduct the interview with his wife in such a manner; in fact, he had regretted it the instant he had left her company. How wide the gulf now? Her defenses seeming impregnable, making him wonder at his ability to bring about a reconciliation, or whether in fact he desired it; all manner of thoughts ranging through his mind. Darrows had achieved his revenge after all, and it was with a very heavy heart that he at last sought repose, seeking in its elusive depths some kind of peace. But in that final wakeful hour before he finally succumbed to its beckoning, his heart and mind ultimately acknowledged the fact that without her he would surely cease to exist. His life would become insupportable and no matter to what extent he should search his soul this fact remained irrefutable.

***

News of the duel rapidly permeated society. By the close of the following day it was being openly discussed in all of the clubs, although the full details were never known. Each had their own opinion of the outcome but the main consensus was that it had been fought over some gaming debt or other, and was therefore, as the duke had predicted, looked upon with some tolerance, for was not a man expected to meet his obligations in that field?

***

Once it was known that the duke and duchess of Lear were in residence for the remainder of the season, invitations to numerous social occasions flooded in only to remain abandoned on the desk of John Deakin, the duke’s secretary, who had been ordered to decline all. One such invitation, however, could not be ignored and leaving his office, he took the gold edged card to his employer who was at that moment being attended by his boot maker in his dressing room.

Being granted entrance to the duke’s apartment he stood to one side awaiting his notice, he did not want to appear to intrude, but the duke called him forward. “Come, Deakin,” he said, “and tell me what you think of these new Hessians. Will they do, or do you think they crease at the ankle?”

“No, no, they fit perfectly, sir,” he said, coming nearer the better to view them. “In fact, sir, I would say they fit to a nicety.”

“
Then I will take your word for it,” replied the duke smiling briefly. “Now tell me what business you find so necessary to bring to my attention this early in the morning? I trust it is of some import?”

“
I think your grace may think it so. It is a supper invitation from your aunt, the Dowager Lady Bannington.”

“
Lord, not Regina,” groaned the duke waving away the would-be attentions of the boot maker. “It’s more like a royal summons; I was wondering how long it would take her to command my presence at one of her events. No doubt she is eager to meet my wife. I will speak to the duchess and let you know my reply.”