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Authors: Christine Merrill

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BOOK: Two Wrongs Make a Marriage
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‘How it sounds is unimportant,’ she said. ‘It was truly horrible of you. You put me at risk when you swore you would not.’

‘In no way,’ he assured her. ‘I followed him back to the house from Boodle’s and waited outside until you had gone and I could question the servants. When I was sure that you went willingly away with him, I came here to wait for you and hid in the back of the shop to watch the fun. What did he say, precisely, to convince you to bring him here? Or was it my bad behaviour that made you to betray me?’

‘He gave me the twenty thousand pounds that he had taken from my father. The draft is already on its way to my old home.’

Jack looked at her with amazement. ‘Well done. I was ready to be hurt at your faithlessness. But for that much money, I’d have turned coat on myself.’ He laid a hand on his heart as though overcome with emotion. ‘And I must say that your behaviour, when you were sure he had beaten you, was most dramatic and very flattering. I am worth ten of him, am I?’

‘You are not worth the brass of a coat button, although you share much in common with it. Crass, base, low ruffian.’ She pulled her hands from his coat sleeve, remembering that a woman with such a disgust of a man should not be hanging on him as though she could not bear to let him go. ‘I hate you.’

‘You do not,’ he said with a laugh. ‘You are furious with me and I probably deserve it. But you feel something quite different from hate, my dear, or you would not be as angry as you are.’

‘You used me.’

‘As I have from the first,’ he agreed. ‘I do not know why it is a surprise to you now.’

‘And you allowed that man to make another awful suggestion.’

‘And he will never do it again.’ His arms wrapped tight around her, pulling her close, rocking her gently in his arms. ‘I will send Danyl to the apartment above and get your ring back from Joseph. And first thing tomorrow, we shall go and cash the draft Uncle Henry has given him, just as your father will cash the one you procured. De Warde will have little left but the emerald ring that he will be waving in the faces of the
ton
, convinced that he is humiliating his brother. And when examined, it will turn out to be paste. If he is wrong in that, can we trust anything he might say?’

Thea readied herself to bat the soothing arms that held her. Then she thought of de Warde and the tales he would tell tomorrow. ‘He might even claim that my mother is with child and that Kenton believes a magical idol will give him a son.’

Jack nodded. ‘That is quite nonsensical, is it not? I suspect that certain people he might accuse of unspeakable crimes would have reason to counter-sue because of his obvious madness. Really, who would trust a man who would slander his own brother? I doubt anyone shall listen to a word from him after this.’ Then he gave her a sidelong look, as though seeking approval. ‘It is not the best plan, of course. Far less thorough than coshing the man and dumping the body in the Thames. But Spayne said no violence. And I did promise.’

‘You did it.’

‘Did I not say that I would?’ Once again, his expression was young and unguarded, and perhaps a little worried at her response. It made his knavery at supper seem like nothing more than a harmless prank.

‘I did not think you would succeed.’ Her lack of faith in him made her feel guilty as well. She was sure that Miss Pennyworth would have scolded her for it. Was it not the duty of a wife to trust her husband in all things?

It was good that Jack knew nothing of that, for her lack of confidence only made him laugh. ‘If this had failed, then I would have found another way. You were a lady in distress, my sweet. And as a gentleman, I could not have allowed such suffering to continue. Was that not why you married me?’

She wanted to argue that this was not why she had married him at all. She had expected Kenton to solve everything with a few words and a stern look, or perhaps by offering a large bank draft.

And instead?

Jack had done exactly what she had wished, but he had not done it in the way expected. ‘Yes,’ she said, exhausted, ‘this was why I married you. And perhaps for one other reason.’

He put an arm around her, pulling her close and kissing her on the top of the head. And while Miss Pennyworth might argue that such public displays were not proper, her venerable teacher could take her rules and go to the devil.

It appeared that Jack would be there ahead of her. He leaned away and stared down at her, all trace of innocence gone from his expression. ‘Let us go home and I will show you again why I married you.’

He was hinting at bed play, in public, where anyone might hear. And, even worse, she was enjoying it. It made them no better than her parents. Perhaps that was not such a bad thing after all. She ran a finger along the lapel of his coat. ‘A man has needs, after all. And if I do not wish to be bothered with them during meals, I suppose I must submit to them now.’

His eyes flared once, and then a slow smile spread across his face. His fingers wrapped around hers. He barely noticed when Danyl passed him the ring and bid them goodnight. Then he slipped the jewel on her finger and they walked in silence towards the Kenton coach. As soon as the door was shut, he pulled her into his arms.

Chapter Nineteen

I
f a honeymoon was meant to last a month, then Jack could no longer deny that it was time to go. He had retired to Spayne Court with Cyn as soon as the drafts had been cashed. And for nearly five weeks they had behaved just as one might expect a newly married couple to behave: retiring early and rising late, sharing smiles and talking little.

For his own part, he’d avoided any mention of Shakespeare, remembering the trouble it had caused the last time. It was better to say nothing at all than to spout words of love, only to sully them with panicked denials the next morning.

And Cyn did not seem to need them. In the weeks since he’d first loved her, she had thrown aside Miss Pennyworth’s instructions and become as fiery and passionate as her red hair. She seemed to enjoy their time together for what it was, a pleasant interlude that could end at any time.

If this made her seem distant, and not quite the devoted Thea he might wish for, he could hardly complain of it. What did he have to offer her, really? He was not Lord Kenton. He had only been pretending.

Of course, it had felt quite real to him for quite some time, but in the end it was nothing more than an illusion.

And if, last night, when she had rolled to face him, after a particularly strenuous bout of love-making, and announced that she would ‘certainly miss him when he was gone...’ he’d had no right to be hurt by that. Hadn’t he told her often enough that just such a thing would happen? His response to her, ‘that he had been thinking it was about time for his departure...’ had nothing to do with a fear that she might be growing tired of him.

It was simply that he was very close to losing himself in this part. If he did not go soon, he would forget how to make a graceful exit. So he had announced to Thea and Spayne over that morning’s breakfast that it was ‘about time to go for a sail’, and enquired about the boats available on the coast.

There had been an awkward pause, as the others in the room digested the information. Then the earl had announced that he knew of just the place, but that he must beware of the treacherous conditions at this time of year.

Thea had said nothing at all.

On his way to the door, Jack considered for a moment, bypassing the library altogether. The earl must know what he had meant. The plan had been clear from the first. All monetary settlements had been made. Was a further interview required? Surely a great man would have had enough of speaking to a lesser one. It might save him the bother of pretending courtesy.

But avoiding a farewell was cowardice, pure and simple. The man had been a father and mentor to him for over a year and deserved more respect than that.

There was no such thing as cowardice, he reminded himself. Only self-preservation. Bravery was a gentlemen’s virtue and more likely to be punished than rewarded. In Jack Briggs’s experience, heroes often got exactly what they deserved.

But it was not as if the earl waited on the other side of the door with a drawn pistol ready to finish him. There was no need to slink out the door unheralded. If the peer did not wish to speak to him again, Jack would know it soon enough.

The idea that a curt dismissal might hurt him entered his mind. He laughed it away. If he was bothered, then it was proof that he’d got above his station and deserved the set down. A year as a viscount had made him soft. And the actor, Jack Briggs, could not afford such tender feelings. The world was a harsh place and had been so for as long as he could remember. Best face the music and get it over with, one way or the other, so that he could take to the road.

He knocked on the door and heard the jovial ‘Enter!’ just as he always did. When the earl looked up from his work, he smiled. ‘Jack.’ As usual, he seemed truly pleased by the interruption. Was it that way with all company? Or had Jack the right to view this as friendship reserved for him? For it had seemed, from the first, that Spayne liked him.

At first he’d viewed it with suspicion, but as time had passed, he’d grown to accept it. Now he must forget it. Should he ever see the man in public again, in an audience, or on the street, there could not be even a flicker of recognition between them.

But that was tomorrow, not today. ‘My lord.’ Jack stood in the doorway and offered a proper bow, but the peer had left his seat and come round to the front of the desk to clasp his hand.

‘You are leaving us so soon?’

‘It is hardly soon, my lord. I have been in company here for thirteen months.’

‘But the matter of de Warde and the money is only just settled. And settled handily, I must say.’ Spayne smiled at him. ‘It has come to my attention that my brother has been waving a paste ring about London and spouting all sorts of nonsense about fertility idols and secret ceremonies. The
ton
cannot decide whether he has come unhinged or is simply a terrible liar. In either case, I doubt they will trust any word from his mouth for a very long time.’

‘There can be no threat of revelation from a blackmailer whom no one believes,’ Jack agreed.

‘I could not have hoped for a better result when I took you on.’ The earl was beaming at him with something very like fatherly pride.

‘I am glad that I have pleased you.’ And it did give him a warm feeling, when he thought about it.

‘You have pleased me in more than that. All tasks that I put to you were handled beyond my expectation. The efforts you have made on behalf of the tenants were much needed. In the absence of a real heir, I let things go for too long.’

His flush of pride was an involuntary response, but Jack could hardly allow himself to be so transparent in his feelings, if he meant to return to the stage. ‘I saw a need and filled it. It was no less than any man might have done.’

‘On the contrary. Can you say that my true heir, de Warde, would have taken the time?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘You have a sympathy for others that is absent from him. It will fall to him in the end, I suppose. But you have put him in his place for a while. Perhaps it has done him some good.’

‘One can hope,’ Jack said, wondering if he was allowed an opinion. But it was troublesome to think that his careful work of recent months might fall apart if de Warde had the chance to recoup and regroup.

‘The addition of Thea to my little family is also welcome,’ Spayne added with a smile. ‘She is a sweet girl, is she not?’

‘Indeed.’ Why must they discuss her now? That would be another hard and necessary parting. He did not wish to be reminded of it.

‘I don’t suppose you are leaving her with child,’ Spayne hazarded. ‘A grandson really would be most handy when dealing with my brother.’

Which made Jack feel like his poor duped wife. Did he need to explain the truth and the law to the man? Spayne was acting as though his bastard spawn deserved a title, when it had all been a horrible, complicated jape. It had been a game that Jack had been happy to play, since it was at the expense of the nobility. He should laugh in the earl’s face at the idea and call him a fool for hoping.

Instead, he said, quite simply, ‘No, my lord. I do not believe there will be issue.’ There might be, of course. He had been cautious all his life with the lovers he’d taken, fearing the appearance of a by-blow. Jack Briggs did not need a wife. And the world did not need another hungry mouth to feed, another boy or girl with no future.

But he had not withdrawn from Cyn’s body or her bed. It had been too sweet to stay there. It gave him a strange, warm thought to know that his offspring, if there was such, would be well loved and cared for.

Then he realised that the earl was staring at him, expecting some sort of response. ‘It is possible, I suppose, that there might be a child.’

Spayne nodded with approval.

‘But she has given me no reason to expect one.’

Spayne sighed. ‘A pity. I suppose it means that she will not be staying for long. I am sure such a lovely and pleasant girl will have many suitors in her unfortunate widowhood.’

And why remind him of it? The idea of her with another left a bitter taste in Jack’s mouth. ‘I am happy that I have made you happy,’ he said rather lamely, because someone in this ought to be happy. Jack could not help but feel that he was not as happy as he should be.

‘Of course, if you wanted to stay on for a bit, I would not fault you,’ the earl added in an offhand manner. ‘You have accomplished much. Taking leisure as Lord Kenton would not be frowned upon. Another month, perhaps.’

Was the randy old goat actually suggesting that Jack continue to enjoy the favours of his illusionary wife until Spayne got his grandchild? At one time, Jack might have been foursquare behind that thought. But now it just seemed wrong.

‘That would hardly be fair to Cyn,’ he said, trying to keep the reproof from his voice. ‘Now that I have nothing to offer her, it would be little better than suggesting that she take a lover. Should she wish to do that, I think she could manage better than some itinerant player.’

BOOK: Two Wrongs Make a Marriage
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