The Rogue’s Prize (44 page)

he would flog the old woman over a

broken plate? Frowning that he grew

hard watching his wife try to help the

woman, Percy shifted in his chair.

Clearly she was ignorant of her effect on

him.

He fisted the ring in his hand until

his knuckles turned white. Constance

deserved to be mollycoddled and he

wanted to be the one to do it.

“Let Jeffers see to this mess,” he

offered.

Mrs. Mortimer furrowed her brow,

scolding him. Why he allowed the

woman’s displeasure to dig into his

pride, he couldn’t be sure, but he

suddenly had another problem on his

hands. A problem he should have taken

care of a little over a month ago.

“All is well! You see, no harm

done,” Constance assured an annoyed

Jeffers, who’d responded almost as

quickly as she.

The two women flashed meaningful

glances as Jeffers departed with the

remnants of Mrs. Mortimer’s dishes.

When the elder woman turned back for

another plate, she flashed a penalizing

frown in his direction.
Damn!
It was

high time he admonished Mrs. Mortimer

for continuing to remind him she was

onto him.

“Clearly, my dear Mrs. Mortimer,

you have got to do something about your

nerves,” he jabbed. The woman had the

most unwelcome timing, one of the

reasons he’d kept her from Constance

aboard the
Striker
. Her foolhardy eyes

challenged him, making him regret not

marooning her when he had the chance.

“Morty’s nerves are fine, Your

Grace. ’Twas an accident, nothing

more.”

“Accident?” He smirked. The idea

was laughable. Didn’t his dear wife

know that Mrs. Mortimer never did

anything by accident?

“Constance, after we break our fast,

I’d like to take you on a ride through

Hyde Park. It’s proving to be a beautiful

day and we have much to discuss.”

Constance reached for a cup of

chocolate, sipping the hot liquid slowly.

She exchanged a glance with the woman

who’d become a thorn in his side. Said

woman fixed him with a troubled frown.

“Wouldn’t that be improper?” she

asked.

Checkmate.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

Constance knew a deeper regret than any

she’d ever known. Within her womb, she

harbored another man’s child. Before

her sat a good man, a handsome,

compassionate,

complex

gentleman

whose protection was all she needed

and more. Rescued from Burton’s

machinations and most assuredly a life

of derision, she owed Percy everything.

Why couldn’t she have met him first?

Before Burton? Before Thomas?

“I fear you aren’t paying attention,

my dear,” Percy said.

She pulled her gaze guiltily back

from the populated road. “Forgive me.

My thoughts don’t normally stray.”

“I am invisible this morning,” he

complained.

“I’m

quite

discombobulated. Perhaps we should not

have ventured out into the park after all.”

She laid her hand over Percy’s

forearm. His muscles flexed beneath the

fine fabric, reminding her he was

stronger than he looked. He had a playful

charm, a resilience she adored. He was

her husband now in every way, the future

father of her children, for she had no

doubt there would be more. She had

decided to pledge her life and love to

one man and one man only, Percival

Avery, Duke of Blendingham.

Constance gazed into Percy’s dark,

absorbing eyes and knew peace. He

would do anything to please her. And

today he posed a fanciful specimen in

russet and gold from head to foot and a

perfectly tied cravat — his signature.

Posture erect, he gave no clue as to his

thoughts.

“It is good to be out and about

again,” she admitted, though it was

highly irregular for a newlywed couple

to leave the seclusion of their lodgings

for at least two fortnights. Because

Princess Charlotte had generated a huge

scandal by going to church one and

twenty days after her marriage, Percy

had assured her they were in good

company.

“Tell me you do not fear this

breach in etiquette,” he said, the brim of

his hat hooding his eyes.

“No. I do not.” Indeed she didn’t.

Anyone who saw her with Percy would

question the validity of the rumors

circulating about her circumstances.

He exhaled a pleasurable sigh.

“There is nothing more vital to a man’s

existence than an adventurous woman.”

His gloved hand covered hers. “We are

a good fit.”

“Indeed, my Lord, I am a very lucky

woman.”

“Do tell,” he requested, coaxing her

into making more compliments. He

smiled roguishly, an infectious, hard-to-

resist grin.

“I’m proud to be your wife, Percy.”

“And I am happy you consented to

be my bride.” His voice deepened,

taking on a familiar tone, teasing her

senses. The sun disappeared behind the

clouds, darkening the carriage. “We

have a lifetime to build upon.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Her

heart thrummed with excitement and

confusion at the same time. Thomas? No!

Percy was clean-shaven, healthy, keenly

dressed, completely unlike the brigand

of her dreams. His stiff-necked aura

exuded high intellect. His masculinity

was effeminate. He was everything

Thomas wasn’t. Wasn’t he?

Percy inclined his head out the

window, jolting her back to the present.

“Good

afternoon,

Lady

Fleming,

Duchess,” he nodded in greeting. She

studied his profile.

“Your Grace.”

“Allow

me

the

pleasure

of

introducing

my

bride,

Lady

Blendingham.” Percy nodded, tapped on

the ceiling and urged the driver forward.

Constance focused on a set of trees

framed by marble architecture and to the

meadow

beyond,

burning

with

embarrassment. Nothing had prepared

her for the obvious avoidance of the two

women her father had known long and

well.

“Put no credence on their appalling

behavior, Constance. I assure you, I do

not and I never have. One must never

base one’s worth upon the perceptions

of others.”

She tore her eyes away from the

splendorous

green

lawn

unfolding

around them. “I mourn your pride,” she

said. He reached for her hand and

squeezed it gently. She absorbed his

compassionate smile.

“Your Graces!” a lone rider hailed,

tipping his round hat in greeting.

Percy nodded, and then offered his

thoughts. “You should know I’ve spent a

lifetime fighting the machinations of the

ton, Constance. Better to live truthfully

than to regret never having lived.”

She could not argue with him. He

spoke honestly. But his sentiments were

not steeped in reality. “Only a man is

given freedom to behave in such a way.

’Twould be scandalous to suggest I do

the same. The world I walk in does not

parallel yours.”

“You misunderstand my gel. I

merely choose to make a stand for what I

believe in. It is for those unimportant to

me to decide what they wish. I care not

for the result. I have been and always

will be, true to myself and those I love,”

he added. “And by the bye, you are part

of my world now.”

Her heart quivered at the prospect.

“As a member of the House of Lords,

how can you be so removed from the

dictates of society?”

Tapping the ceiling, Percy hailed

the driver to stop the carriage. Once the

vehicle halted, he slid closer, keeping

his voice low and direct. “My father

understood exactly who and what I am.”

“I never meant to imply — ”

“You did not have to.” He pointed

to her face. “It is there in your eyes,” he

said, pointing a gloved finger at her

brow. “Do not think me incapable of

taking care of you, of filling my father’s

seat. Does my appearance,” he said,

with a wave of his hand, “confuse you?

Or do you dare me to show you the kind

of man I really am? I thought I had

already done that by protecting you from

that self-obsessed cretan Burton.”

Her hands trembled. She bit her

quivering lip. What was he implying?

That Burton had spoken the truth? Percy

was fully attentive to her now, making

no effort to hail passing carriages or

those on horseback who tried in vain to

gain his attention. His eyes remained

fixed upon hers, pleading her to plunge

into the depths of his soul and know him

completely.

He stroked her fingers. Desiring a

bolder touch, she looked down at his

gloved hand, visualizing a tanned one in

its place. Aware of her fixation on the

barriers between them, he removed his

glove and hers, and intertwined their

fingers. Immediately, she was shocked at

how easily he broke social politesse. He

could afford it, she couldn’t. She would

have cried out in shame if the need to

pose happily married weren’t so grave.

“We have unfinished business, do

we not?” he asked. “Things unsaid that

must be brought into light? Though this is

not the right place for revelations, I dare

not wait. Some things have come to my

attention that cannot be dismissed.”

Fearing he meant to reveal he

believed the rumors, Constance tore her

hand from his. She raised her chin a

notch as she waited for him to announce

he was well aware that she was carrying

a bastard’s child. Was that the reason

he’d brought her to this public place? To

ensure she would not cause a scene?

Hyde Park, of all places, the social hub

of the ton! Surely the entire town would

know of her indiscretions if his voice

raised an octave or she departed the

carriage in tears to escape his

accusations.

“Before you continue, let it be

known that I never sought to deceive

you, Percy. I — ”

“Lord and Lady Stanton. What an

agreeable happenstance! Imagine my

surprise to see you out and about, and so

soon, I might add.”

Had she known better, she could

have sworn Percy cursed under his

breath before he turned to face

Lieutenant Guffald sidling next to the

landau on a magnificent black horse.

“Henry, you dashing fellow,” Percy

said with applaudable finesse. “What a

marvelous surprise! I was just telling my

beautiful bride how fortunate I am that

you were aboard her vessel. Had you not

been of assistance, I’m sure I would not

be the luckiest man in town today.”

Guffald nodded, planting his blue

eyes upon her. She could not be sure of

it, but the lieutenant exerted an awkward

caginess, as if none too pleased Percy

sat so near. His nod brokered a

confidence she hadn’t witnessed before.

She inspected his handsome uniformed

figure and his resplendent sword,

polished to sparkling sheen.

Percy noticed the addition as well.

“My good man, have you been

promoted?” he asked with delight.

Guffald’s teeth flashed white and

for the first time his eyes lit with fervor.

“Indeed. Thanks to Lady Constance’s —

I mean the marchioness’s uncle — I’ve

been awarded my own ship.”

“Many pardons, Henry. Have you

not heard the news? My dearest wife is

Lady Blendingham now.”

The news must have come as a

shock. Guffald blinked. His back

straightened. “No, I have not heard. It

appears I am remiss in offering my

sympathies, Your Grace. Forgive me.

The duke was a very good man.”

“As are you, good sir.” Guffald

bowed his head at the compliment.

“When do you sail?” Percy asked.