Wickedly Yours (The Wickeds Book 4)

by Kathleen Ayers

  “Do not pretend that James would have made a wiser choice than I, for you have no idea what he would have done. Or wanted.”

  “James was a good lad who would have grown into a fine man. He knew his duty to his family and the earldom.”

  Rowan grit his teeth. His father had castigated him many times with this speech. “James has been gone, Father, for nearly fifteen years. I am sorry that you are stuck with me as your heir and not my brother. Sorely aggrieved that I cannot be what you wish, that I cannot be perfect as James was. Lord knows I’ve tried.”

  Lord Marsh took a sip of his drink and turned his gaze to the window; his face grew shadowed and pained. “Do not remind me of that day.”

  Rowan and James had gone swimming, but only James had caught a fever. Two days later he was dead. While Lady Marsh wailed, Lord Marsh glared with accusation at his remaining son, for it had been Rowan’s idea to swim in the icy pond. He’d been trying to atone for that mistake ever since, working so hard at being the son his parents wished. Trying to be James, Rowan had nearly lost sight of who he actually was.

  “I will speak to His Grace. You can’t seriously mean to marry the chit.”

  “You will not,” Rowan’s voice grew taut with anger, “speak to His Grace. Take a moment, Father, and try to see the advantages of my marrying Arabella. Becoming my wife assures us nothing concerning the treasonous activities of Jemma’s father, your brother, will ever come to light. The Duke of Dunbar holds one of the most powerful and wealthy duchies in England.”

  “And the most infamous,” Lord Marsh interjected. “Besides we are already aligned to Dunbar through your cousin.”

  Rowan raised a brow. “The match is much more advantageous than that of Lady Gwendolyn and you know it.” Rowan wanted Arabella with a burning intensity that bordered on obsession. On their return to London, he chose to ride horseback rather than share a coach for fear he wouldn’t be able to control himself. The merest glimpse of her bare wrist or curl of hair filled him with indescribable lust. But Father would never understand his attraction to Arabella. Rowan wasn’t sure he could explain it himself.

  “She had your cousin kidnapped. Jemma could have been killed or worse.” His father’s lip curled in distaste. “Lady Arabella is a deeply troubled, spoiled child who was given too much leeway by her overindulgent brother.”

  “Arabella did not kidnap Jemma, Corbett did. She deeply regrets her actions.” Rowan gave a small sigh. “I do not condone what she did to Jemma, but I understand why she felt it necessary.”

  Lord Marsh made a grunt of disbelief. “You are making excuses for her?”

  “I’m not. I only said I understood her reasoning. Besides, this entire affair has been punishment enough. I don’t imagine she appreciates being forced into marriage either simply because the gossips have maligned her.”

  “Yes, because gentlemen have been lining up to court her. Really, Rowan, she constantly sports a frown, wears dark, unflattering colors, is deceitful in the extreme and is not to be trusted.”

  “I didn’t realize you took notice of Arabella’s dress.” Rowan shifted as his breeches grew tight. Just the thought of taking Arabella out of those staid garments to caress the skin beneath aroused him.

  “Your blessed mother does, I do not.” His father looked askance at him. “You do not need to sacrifice yourself for her honor. She has none.”

  “I’ve signed the betrothal agreements. They’ll be sent for you to review as a courtesy.”

  His father’s posture reflected his blatant shock. “I can still salvage things with Lord White.” Lord Marsh blinked in confusion.

  “I am marrying Lady Arabella, Father. I am sorry you and Mother aren’t pleased.” Rowan stood. “But I’m wedding her, not you. You’ll have to come to terms or family gatherings are bound to be awkward.”

  A sputtering sound came from his father. “While I have grown fond of His Grace —”

  “You are afraid of the Devil of Dunbar. It is not the same as being fond of him,” Rowan snapped, delighted when his father’s face reddened. “I bid you good day, Father. Thank you for the drink.”

  19

  “I am beside myself. What is your brother thinking in marrying that girl? Even if she hadn’t gotten herself involved with,” Lady Marsh lowered her voice, “Corbett and his mother, she is still unacceptable. Lady Gwendolyn took to her bed upon hearing the news. I would express my disappointment to Rowan, but he has yet to appear before me.”

  Jemma sipped her tea and cast a sideways glance to her cousin, Petra. She loved Aunt Mary dearly, but her dramatics were beginning to grow tiresome. Granted, no one could blame Lady Marsh for her ill-concealed horror at the prospect of Arabella as a daughter-in-law, but Rowan’s mind was set. And after speaking at length to Nick, Jemma thought she understood the situation better. “Rowan is a man of nearly thirty years, Aunt Mary. I am sure he knows his own mind. I assure you, Nick did not coerce him in the least.”

  Aunt Mary shot her a doubtful look. “No one will ever believe Rowan was simply overcome with passion for the girl.”

  Jemma nibbled on a sugared biscuit. Aunt Mary and Petra were both informed of the true reason Rowan and Arabella had been together, or at least the pertinent points. “Does it matter? Perhaps they will assume Rowan wishes to marry her for financial reasons. Her dowry is enormous. I am married to her brother. When you look at things from that perspective, their betrothal makes sense.”

  “Arabella is not who I would choose as a sister-in-law.” Petra stole a small cake from the tray. “She terrifies me. Always has. Rowan should beg off and Arabella can be banished again. Wouldn’t we all be happier?”

  Aunt Mary clapped her hands. “A brilliant idea. Jemma, surely you can discuss such with His Grace? You, more than anyone, should wish her gone.”

  It was true, she didn’t care for Arabella, but neither would Jemma dictate to her husband abandon his sister. “I would never ask him to do such a thing. Regardless of her actions, Nick loves her dearly. And she has begged his forgiveness.”

  “She’s a sour spinster. I would think gossip that she’s been ruined would do nothing but enhance her reputation.” Petra was rarely so unkind towards another.

  “That’s a bit cruel, Petra.” Jemma had wondered at Rowan’s behavior toward Arabella since the first time she’d seen them together nearly a year ago. The air fairly crackled between the two with animosity, which on reflection, Jemma though may be something else. Attraction.

  No wonder he agreed to go after her.

  “You can’t mean to say that you approve of this marriage?” Lady Marsh dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and her lips trembled as she spoke.

  “I am as shocked as you are, Aunt Mary, however, I do sense a change in Arabella. Her time with Corbett forged a connection between she and Rowan.” Jemma shrugged. “I do not pretend to understand, but I do not think Rowan is easily manipulated. He knows his own mind. You do not have to like his decision, but you should respect it.” She gave both women a pointed look. “Nick loves his sister. I will not have him hurt over your disapproval else you answer to me.”

  Aunt Mary sat back, her unhappiness clear. “Your meaning is taken, niece, though I doubt His Grace is in need of your protection.”

  Jemma shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”

  20

  “Good Lord, taken by that vile man Corbett. I was rather put out when you didn’t arrive at my wedding celebration, but it appears you had a good excuse. Or a terrible one.” Miranda whispered in Arabella’s ear as they walked out of hearing range of the groom who had accompanied the carriage. The day was beautiful and sunny, if a bit chilly and she and Miranda had opted to visit the park, even though Arabella wished to avoid the thinly veiled curiosity of London society. She simply couldn’t hide in the house any longer and was in desperate need of some exercise and fresh air. Besides, Arabella detested cowardly behavior.

  “Chester,” Miranda addressed the groom, “we are taking a turn about the pa
th. You stay with the carriage. I promise we won’t stray too far.” Miranda bent her head to Arabella. “I wouldn’t wish him to lose his place. I know he’s been instructed to follow us about.” She shot the groom a brilliant smile before turning back to Arabella.

  “When you didn’t arrive at the ball, I had the ridiculous notion that you were upset with me for marrying. I should have told you about Colin years ago, but I couldn’t, you see.” The emerald of her eyes glittered at Arabella. “Colin was my secret. I’d told no one. Not even Grandmother. He’d left me so long ago and…” A rustle of silk followed the slight shrug of her shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  Arabella squeezed Miranda’s hand. “I wish you had told me.” She’d never considered that Miranda had been heartbroken for years, always assuming her friend, who was forever cheery and good-natured, had few cares in the world.

  “I was a bit ashamed of myself for thinking such a thing. That you wouldn’t attend just to be spiteful.”

  Arabella gave her dearest friend a wan smile. She had been upset. Angry. Filled with desolation that Miranda had found love and Arabella would be alone. “Perish the thought. I am thrilled for you.”

  “And then to have that horrid little gossip spread such tales. Lavinia Woodstock of all people. I’m grateful she didn’t catch wind of the true situation. Thank goodness Lord Malden went after you, else there is no telling what Corbett would have done.”

  He would have married me as I agreed. What would her friend think if she told Miranda the truth? “Yes, I am grateful as well.”

  “Did you know Rowan has been a frequent dinner guest of ours? He’s helping Colin with some recommendations on how to modernize Runshaw Park. Colin is in dire need of direction. There is so much to be done at the estate.” Miranda waved her hands about as she spoke. “Just the other night he visited to discuss wool of all things. Well, I suppose Colin can give an educated opinion on such since he helped run his Uncle Gerald’s sheep farm. At any rate I missed most of the conversation as a box of books had just been delivered. A surprise for me from Thrumbadge’s Booksellers from my darling husband. Did I ever tell you that I have a very soft spot for Lord Malden? He would always dance with me when no one else dared approach me. Because of the incident.” Miranda had lowered her voice. “Though now that I’m married I—”

  “Miranda.” Arabella came to a complete stop. “Would you like to know the remainder of the story or will you continue to chatter on?” Her friend had an endearing and somewhat annoying habit of prattling endlessly, her conversation madly jumping from one topic to the next.

  “Oh yes. Quite right.” Laughter floated out of Miranda’s lips. “I do apologize. I’m just so happy to see you and know you are unharmed. I’ve missed you dreadfully.”

  Arabella squeezed her friend’s arm. “I’ve missed you as well.” Since her return to London, this was the first opportunity Arabella had to speak to Miranda privately. She’d thought to confide her shame to her friend. Tell her she’d agreed to go with Corbett out of some misguided idea of revenge. But looking at Miranda’s happy face, so beautiful as the morning sun glinted across her features, Arabella lost her courage. Miranda loved her, true, but she would never understand how Arabella could consider a marriage for revenge.

  At the time it seemed like a capital idea. I simply wanted to hurt everyone.

  A pair of gentlemen walking together shot Miranda an appreciative glance, but Miranda barely noticed. Gentlemen always stared at Miranda, even with her tarnished reputation she was still one of the most beautiful women in the ton. Arabella often felt like the dull brown duckling next to a magnificent swan. Miranda seemed not to care a bit for her looks, or at least didn’t care for the attention they garnered.

  As they strolled, arm in arm, along the bank of one of the small ponds along the path, Arabella finally spoke. “I stuck him with a fork, Miranda. And then a knife.”

  Miranda did not take her eyes off the path. “I assume you are speaking of Corbett.”

  “He tore my dress.” Arabella swallowed, remembering Corbett’s hands on her. The way her skin crawled as he touched her. “Malden told the constable he stabbed Corbett, but it was me. I didn’t even tell Nick the truth. I had no choice, you see. Corbett’s pistol was pointed at Malden’s head and I couldn’t allow it. I ran at him and pushed the knife into his neck. When I stabbed him, he tripped and fell from the window. I—”

  “My poor Bella.” Miranda put her arm around her. “I never met the man, but if anyone deserved stabbing, it was certainly Corbett. Besides, what were you to do? Stand by and allow him to shoot Lord Malden? Don’t upset yourself. You did not kill Corbett. He fell from the window and broke his neck. A fortunate accident. It is never appropriate to find happiness in another’s death, even when it is deserved. But you had no other choice. I know well of what I speak.”

  Arabella nodded. Miranda had faced her own scandal for the shooting of Archie Runyon, her mother’s cousin. She was still whispered about.

  “I am never sorry that I shot Cousin Archie. He tormented my family for years. I am also not sorry he is dead. Not in the least.” A shadowed look crossed her lovely face. “I’m glad Lord Malden told the constable that he stabbed Corbett for it would do your reputation no good if it were known you wielded the knife. Society frowns on such antics, though were you a gentleman, they would applaud you. At any rate, in addition to being ruined, you would be deemed slightly mad or dangerous if the ton knew the truth. I should know. You do not need more scandal heaped upon you. Your betrothal is scandalous enough.”

  “I’ve a mind to just flee to Scotland, or perhaps go abroad. Maybe I should visit America,” Arabella muttered. “Or perhaps travel the continent. Spence is in India. I could go there.”

  “Fleeing London would solve nothing, and your cousin would not welcome your intrusion in India. Besides, you care greatly for your reputation and your family’s honor. Isn’t that what began this whole mess with Corbett?”

  Arabella stiffened. “I am well aware of my fault in all that has transpired. And the Dunbar family honor leaves much to be desired.”

  Miranda shook her head. “I’m not placing blame, Bella. What’s done is done.”

  “This entire situation is ridiculous. I’ve no more desire to marry Malden than he does me, yet we are betrothed. I cannot fathom how Lavinia Woodstock spied us at the inn. My betrothal is now in the betting book at White’s. It’s horrifying.” She’d spent years trying not to draw unwelcome attention and within the space of less than a month Arabella had found herself in a maelstrom of gossip and innuendo. “I’ve not even seen Malden since the night he returned me to my brother.”

  A small lie. She had dreamt of Malden, which wasn’t at all like seeing him in person though the effects were the same on her body. Awaking in the middle of the night, her heart would race and her skin prickle as a distinct shameful wetness seeped between her thighs. She could still feel the press of his lips against hers.

  “Rowan could not be forced into marrying you should he not wish it.” Miranda’s voice was firm.

  Arabella gave a bitter laugh. “Please. Malden is known as an amusing, charming, honorable gentleman. He’s rather perfect for all that he’s a bit of a rake. I’m sure he spends his days considering the cut of his newly tailored coat or losing his fortune at one of London’s finer gambling establishments. He squires his mother and sister about Bond Street like a proper son should.”

  “You make him sound quite boring.” Miranda lifted a brow. “The man you describe would not have ridden to your rescue, I’m sure. That man would have sent a constable or bow street runner rather than miss a ball.” She paused, as if unsure how much to say. “Did you know your future husband holds the markers of some of the wealthiest men in London?”

  Arabella shook her head and gave a choked laugh. “Surely, you’re joking. Malden?”

  “Malden is rich as Croesus, Arabella. Not from gambling, though Colin tells me Malden pretends to
be a poor player to catch the other players off guard. He’s made several investments on Colin’s behalf which have nearly doubled in value. I’m not sure why he’s holding so many markers, but there’s several gentlemen who will be ruined if he ever calls them due. He sounds rather ruthless to me. You would be wise to watch your step.”

  “I do not think we suit,” Arabella stated firmly.

  “I doubt Lord Malden cares for your thoughts on your mutual suitability for apparently he’s made up his mind. Besides, it is much easier to be happy, don’t you think? And you are not indifferent to him.”

  Arabella started to throw a scathing denial at her friend when Miranda began waving madly. “Oh look, there’s Miss Lainscott. I must say hello. Come, you must meet her.”

  Arabella shook her head. “I think I’d like a moment to gather my thoughts, if you don’t mind. You’ve given me much to consider.” She had no desire to meet Miss Lainscott, at least not today.

  “You wish to pout.” Miranda gave a frustrated sigh. “Very well. But you and I will call on Miss Lainscott before I leave for Runshaw Park. The poor girl is in the care of Lady Dobson and any distraction is most appreciated. Perhaps you two will find something in common and become friends.” Miranda hurried over to a slender girl wearing an overlarge bonnet who was waving to her in excitement.

  Arabella sincerely doubted Miss Lainscott had any desire to be friends with her, no matter what Miranda imagined. She wandered over to the edge of the pond where the thickness of the trees increased and leaned against a large oak tree, bending her head back to look up into the canopy of leaves above her head. Taking off her gloves, she ran her fingers over the gnarled truck of the oak, enjoying the roughness beneath her hand. Marriage. She’d always thought if she did marry, it would be to some elderly gentleman who would only require Arabella to do her duty in providing an heir and then leave her alone. Someone she would see on holidays and perhaps during the Season but nothing more.