The Other Wife (The Dunne Family Series Book 3)

by Chasity Bowlin

  “He will be too furious. He might well challenge you. That is the sort of gossip none of us can afford. Additionally, despite the strained nature of our relationship, he is my brother, and I would prefer not to see his blood spilled at Hampstead Heath over something that I am partially responsible for.”

  “There is nothing more to be done tonight. Should I go, Aurora? Or should I stay with you until the dawn?” He was praying for an invitation to stay. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman in his life. Even after they’d spent the afternoon indulging their every desire, it was not enough.

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide and dark in the moonlight. “It is unwise.”

  “Many things are.”

  That same half smile curved her lips, the one that drove him mad. “I find that you tempt me to throw caution to the wind far more often than I should. Come into my home, Your Grace.”

  Gavin followed her through the garden gate, through a set of French doors and into a study. From there, she led the way up a flight of stairs to the family quarters. There was no question when she showed him into the bedroom that it was not the master chamber.

  “I detest the master chamber,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “It’s a room filled with unpleasant memories…and ghosts.”

  “Of your late husband?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. If it’s haunted at all it’s by the ghost of the girl I once was. I dislike being reminded of her. Ignorant, weak, unable to stand up for herself. I use these rooms instead and find myself much happier here.”

  It was an admission unlike anything he’d heard from her to date. In that moment, she’d given him a glimpse of her vulnerability and it was a gesture that demanded repayment in kind. “I never wanted to be the duke,” he confessed. “You asked earlier today and I said that I would tell you later how it came to be.”

  She moved toward the bed and seated herself on the edge of it. With her hands crossed primly in her lap, she simply waited for him to expound upon his previous point.

  “My grandfather had four sons, three from his first marriage and my father from his last marriage. His eldest son died as a young man without ever siring a child. His second son lived as a bachelor. He was quite the rake and eventually died from disease.”

  “I remember him,” Aurora said. “He was a scandalous figure during my first season.”

  “And the third son, who married, had two daughters, and promptly dropped dead of a heart seizure,” Gavin finished. “The title would have gone to my father had he not been killed in battle. So, here I am, a man more ill prepared for the role of duke than any in history. I’ve no notion what to do about half of the problems on my estates, and society both terrifies me and bores me to tears.”

  “Society is what you make of it,” Aurora explained. “I am not friends with Lady Deerfield, and yet we are friendly. I am not friends with her because I know she cannot be trusted. Even the warning she provided to you at the musicale… That was more for her own entertainment. She wants to see us scrambling into some sort of activity. She loves nothing better than to create and exacerbate scandal and turmoil.”

  “Then, why do you associate with her?”

  “Because knowing what she knows protects me,” Aurora answered. “Always. If my late husband lost at cards, he came home vicious and spoiling for a fight. If someone insulted him at his club, then I’d bear the brunt of it. Lady Deerfield knows all and hears all, sometimes even before the participants know themselves. To that end, it is important to have her as an ally rather than an enemy. You should heed that. Especially if you intend to make a match—”

  “I do not,” he interjected, halting her. Then he explained, “I’ve heard that the harder a man resists the notion of marriage the more intent the marriage-minded mamas become. Like baying hounds scenting a fox. By appearing to be amenable to the notion of taking a wife, then I can roam freely in their midst without drawing too much attention.”

  “So, you are not bride shopping?” She asked.

  Deciding to tell her the entirety of the truth, Gavin moved across the room and sat on the bed beside her. “Many years ago, when I was a very young and foolish man, I married a woman in Massachusetts. The marriage was not legal. It was never consummated, at least not after the vows were made. Immediately after the ceremony a man came in to the inn where we were having our celebratory drinks and exposed her for what she was—a bigamist. He knew her and her husband. One of them at any rate.”

  “One of them?” Aurora asked.

  “Yes, Meredith Brandon. She collected husbands the way some women collect jewelry. Whenever she needed funds, she would simply marry a man who was flush, spend it all and move on. At the point we wed, she already had several husbands who were still very much alive. I managed to secure an annulment, thankfully. But now that I have a tittle and access to wealth, she is looking for a way to gain access. I very much fear that, were I to announce an engagement, she would simply pop up and say, ‘You can’t have him. He’s got a wife already!;”

  “But you have proof of the annulment?” she clarified.

  “I did have. It has been stolen, likely by her, as I now know she is not simply in England but right here in London. I’ve sent to Massachusetts for a copy of the documents, but it will take some time to have them here—time I do not have. And she knows about you.”

  Aurora sighed. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because Meredith is a complicated woman who thrives on complicating the lives of other people. And when you speak of your late husband, I feel your life has been fraught with complications enough already,” Gavin admitted. “I may not have much of a conscience, but this part at least is intact. I think it only fair to offer you a chance to bow out now.”

  “Is that what you want? A convenient way to end our arrangement before it has actually begun?”

  Gavin shook his head. “No. I do not want this to end. But I do not want you to have regrets either.”

  She was quiet for a moment, considering it all. “So, you are not truly married, but you are also not free to marry? And a woman, such as myself, one who has no interest in marrying again, is the perfect foil for all of those marriage-minded mamas of the ton who would parade their fresh-from-the-schoolroom girls about in front of you,” Aurora surmised.

  “That is not your only appeal,” he explained.

  “But it is serendipitous,” she replied.

  “Indeed, it is. Do you want to continue this, Aurora, knowing what you do? Lots of people, men and women, say they never want to marry again. There is a possibility, that if I cannot get affidavits from the legal entities in Massachusetts, I will never be free to offer anyone any more than I have given you already.”

  She rose from the bed and stripped off her wrapper, shrugging the silk from her shoulders until it pooled on the floor at her feet. “I only want to think of tonight. Tomorrow and what we must do then… well, that can be tomorrow’s problem.”

  Gavin reached for her, tugging her into the circle of his arms so that she stood between his knees and he could press his face into the softness of her body. Inhaling deeply, he savored the scent of her, the silken feel of her and the pliant flesh beneath his hands. It was enough for the moment.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  They entered the ballroom of Lord Burke Holland and his wife, Olivia, Lady Holland. It had been three days since they’d sent Helen and Stephan off to Scotland under the cover of darkness. With any luck, the young couple had already said their vows. But they couldn’t hide forever, and so they were attending what was purported to be the ball of the season. During those three days, they’d spent their days sequestered in their own homes, but each glorious night they had spent together, with him sneaking into her home under the cover of darkness. It had become as necessary to him as food or water that he see her every day.

  The house was superb, the ballroom glittering and gay, and the very cream of society was present. Gavin was aware of the sti
r they created. He was also quite aware of why people were so curious. The ball in question was being hosted by the sister of Aurora’s former lover. There was a great deal of conjecture and even a few bets on the books at various clubs about town as to whether or not Algernon Dunne would be in attendance. There were even more bets about what might take place. Did he intend to propose to Aurora? Would he call Gavin out for embarking on a relationship with her? How acrimonious had the split between the former lovers been?

  The thing that astonished him about the aristocracy was how little of note they managed to fill their days with. Gossip and idleness and crowing about the misery of others seemed to be their greatest achievements.

  “You look as if you are facing the executioner,” Aurora murmured softly. “Would it be so terrible to smile and not look dour and unhappy?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But I’m here, in a place I am unhappy to be, and I will suffer it gladly to be by your side.”

  “That was said very prettily,” she remarked. “Our purpose here is to allay any suspicions about Helen and Mr. St. James. I will report that she is still ill but recovering at my home. You will inform anyone who asks that you have sent him on an errand to one of your estates in the country.”

  His lip quirked upward against his will. “Despite all the wicked things you did to distract me while we formulated this plan, I did manage to commit it to memory.”

  Her expression shifted. To anyone else, it might have been imperceptible. But he could see the triumph in it. He could see how satisfied she was, not because of the pleasure he’d given her, but because of her ability to bring him to his knees. And all he wanted, more than anything, was to have her do it all again.

  “Then, let’s bloody well circulate our misdirecting gossip and get the hell out of here.”

  She looked at him. “I’m supposed to be tutoring you in all the ways of society, am I not?”

  “You are,” he conceded. It was part of their agreement and part of their ruse.

  “Then you should not use the words bloody or hell in a ballroom in mixed company. They should be used only sparingly in conversation with other men,” she reminded him. “Ladies like to pretend that they are delicate and easily scandalized. Even shameless ones such as myself.”

  With a nonplussed expression, he excused himself. Lessons could hang, he thought.

  Crossing the expanse of the ballroom, dodging debutantes and marriage minded mamas as well as overly exuberant young bucks, Gavin made his way to the refreshment table. With cups of punch for the both of them, he turned to make his way back to Aurora. Through the throng of the crowd, he could see her speaking with a woman he did not know.

  Curious but also immediately concerned, Gavin began threading his way back through the crowd. When he reached Aurora, he could see that her expression was troubled. There was a look of deep concern about her, as if she’d received upsetting news.

  “Who was that you were speaking with?” he asked. He had the distinct feeling that he would likely not care for her answer.

  She glanced up then, almost as if she hadn’t heard him approach. After a slight pause, she offered up in an apologetic tone, “I’m afraid our purposes here have shifted for the evening. There is another couple who requires our immediate assistance.”

  “Who is that?” he asked.

  “I know this may seem strange, but I must speak with that young woman who is talking with Algernon Dunne.”

  Temper, quick and hot, flared inside him. He knew it for what it was: jealousy. The woman before him had him twisted up in knots. “Dunne? If you’re playing some sort of game—”

  “I am not,” she assured him quickly. “But I fear someone else may be. I think the girl’s sister is plotting against them, though for what reason, I cannot say. I just think they should be warned. That is all. You understand, don’t you? What if someone were plotting to try and separate us?”

  A frisson of panic hit him then as he recalled that moment in the park when he’d thought he’d seen Meredith. “That’ll never happen. I won’t let it,” he stated quite firmly.

  “Well, they still may try, and I would hope we have allies enough to warn us.”

  “Then, I shall go with you and I shall speak to your Mr. Dunne and try not to plant him a facer,” Gavin offered. It was the safer of the options open to them. Jealousy and possessiveness were new emotions for him, but he wasn’t so delusional that he could deny that was precisely what he felt.

  Aurora grinned, her eyes shining with deep satisfaction. “I never thought I’d enjoy a man’s jealousy. But I do. You have no reason to be angry at him. The time we had is long past.”

  “Not that long.”

  “Long enough,” Aurora corrected. “And I daresay, given the way he’s looking at the lovely lady in pink that he feels quite the same way.”

  At that, Gavin glanced over his shoulder at the couple in question. When he turned back around to meet her gaze, his expression had softened considerably. “Poor bastard is sunk, isn’t he?”

  “Indeed, he is. And you shouldn’t say bastard in a ball room,” she reminded him.

  The lessons, he thought grimly. “Then, let’s get it over with.”

  “After the first waltz,” Aurora said. “There’s plenty of time.”

  “I thought we weren’t dancing,” he remarked.

  “We aren’t,” she said, “But I believe they are.”

  Gavin glanced back at Dunne, who was leading the pretty woman in pink onto the dance floor. The way they looked at one another, it was as if no one else existed in that room with him. He found himself jealous of Dunne for another reason. Given their circumstances, he’d never be able to be so open in his regard for the woman beside him. They had to pretend to be friends or acquaintances, they had to abide by rules about how often they could dance together. They had to make great pretenses about who was sleeping where and hide the fact that they were—.

  Gavin cut that thought off. Surely not. Surely that word had not just entered his mind. But it had. Even if he refused to give it voice, the thought existed and he had identified the sentiment behind it. He had fallen in love with Aurora Sefton. In a manner of days, he’d gone from contempt to infatuation to being completely besotted with her. And he had no inkling of whether she felt the same.

  Then Aurora rose from her seat and stood next to him, close enough that her shoulder brushed his arm, that he could smell the sweetness of the rosewater she had put behind her ears. And for just a split second, her hand brushed against his, a caress both deliberate and discreet. It was enough. That touch seemed to settle him, to fill him with a sense of rightness that made everything else subside. With a sigh he asked, “What do you want me to do?”

  “When the dance has ended, get Algernon to the library. I’ll be waiting for you both there. Bring Miss Blake, as well. And Lord and Lady Holland. It will look less like you all are going off to bloody one another’s faces in the garden if everyone is in a group,” Aurora whispered.

  “Do you regret it?” he found himself asking.

  “Regret what?”

  “Parting ways with him.” There was a vulnerability in his voice, a slight hesitation in what he’d said that he detested.

  She stared at him in surprise. Then her expression settled into one that was simply soft and sweet and full of warmth. “If I hadn’t parted ways with him, then I couldn’t be here with you. And I would change that for nothing.”

  Gavin tucked that reply away, treasuring it like the gift it was. When the music ended, he made his way through the throng of people, just in time to meet Dunne face to face just as he and Miss Blake reached Lord and Lady Holland who stood to the side.

  “Westerhaven,” Algernon acknowledged.

  “Dunne,” Gavin reciprocated. “Lady Sheffield would like to have a word.”

  The pretty blonde wore her heart on her sleeve. If she’d been playing cards, she’d have been a pauper with a face like that. “I’ll wait with Lady Holland while you
attend to…things.”

  “You misunderstand me, Miss Blake,” Gavin offered immediately. “Lady Sheffield would like to speak to you both—and Lord and Lady Holland assuming they can spare a moment.”

  Lady Holland stepped forward then. “We’ll make time. It certainly seems to be important.”

  And with that, Gavin exited the ballroom with the most unlikely group of companions anyone could have imagined.

  Aurora was waiting in the library. It was dark. She hadn’t bothered to light a candle. In truth, darkness was their friend at the moment. She heard voices just a moment before the door opened. As the group entered she heard Algernon’s voice straightaway.

  “All right, what’s this about?” he demanded in his typically impatient fashion.

  “It’s about Mrs. Daphne Fennelworth,” Aurora said softly from the shadows. “I’m terribly sorry for all the dramatics, but I assured her I’d speak with you and warn you off about her sister the fortune hunter.”

  At that, Algernon laughed. “If anyone is a fortune hunter—”

  “I’ve taken Mrs. Fennelworth’s measure, Mr. Dunne,” Aurora replied. Did he really think her so foolish as to be taken in by a woman like MrsDaphne Fennelworth? “But I elected to proceed as if I believed her because I fear she will make a great deal of trouble for you otherwise. Trouble that neither you nor Miss Blake need.”

  A look passed between Algernon and Miss Blake. In that look, Aurora saw something quite astonishing. He loved her. Algernon, who had always eschewed such things as mere flights of fancy, was completely and utterly smitten with a woman who, though lovely in her own right, would not be considered a great beauty. Indeed, she’d never even heard of this Miss Blake before. But that didn’t seem to matter. Aurora had a moment of envy, not for Algernon, but for what they had. No man had ever looked at her so.

  Glancing through the dense shadows of the room, she caught sight of Gavin. Would he ever look at her that way? Was she prepared for that if he did? No.