by Darcy Burke
He was getting married. To Viola.
It wasn’t that he was opposed—he just needed time to adjust. This was not how he would have preferred the most important decision of his life to occur.
He walked up to the door, but before he could knock, it opened and the butler invited him inside. “You are Mr. Barrett, I presume?”
Of course, he’d been expected. “Yes.” Jack immediately noticed the impressive art gracing nearly every inch of the entrance hall and refused to be intimidated by the dowager’s wealth and status.
“This way.” The butler led him to the right into a grand library with bookshelves along every wall, a large table situated near the front window overlooking the square, and a seating arrangement nestled in front of the fireplace. The dowager sat in a wingback chair closest to the hearth, while Viola sat at one end of a settee that faced toward the window. Both women sat ramrod straight, and while the dowager’s expression was coolly expectant, Viola’s was serene and yet a bit…vacant. He noted, however, that her hands were clasped firmly in her lap.
Jack bowed deeply to the dowager and then to Viola. “Good evening.”
“Sit,” the dowager said.
Should he take the other chair near the hearth or sit beside Viola? The politician in him said to sit nearer the dowager, but he was drawn to Viola.
He sat next to her on the settee. Close, but not too close.
The dowager speared him with an intent stare. “Viola has explained everything to me, and while I understand you weren’t actually together last night, it doesn’t matter. The damage to your reputations is done, and the only way to mitigate it, at least partially, is to wed with haste.”
Jack was surprised that Viola had explained “everything” and was eager to know what “everything” entailed. He glanced over at her, but her face was still impassive. “I agree.”
“Good. You have never struck me as a fool.”
Did that mean she’d been aware of him before today? He found that hard to believe. “Thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“Can you afford to purchase a license?” the dowager asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. The banns will take too long. You need to wed as soon as possible. I propose you wed in one week at St. George’s.”
“Since you’re only proposing, does that mean we get to choose?” Viola asked with more than a touch of sarcasm. It was the first inkling he had as to her thoughts… She was not pleased with this turn of events.
“The date, but not whether you will marry.” The dowager glowered at her granddaughter. “Do not prattle on again about not needing to wed. That question has been settled, and Mr. Barrett agrees with me.”
Viola glanced at him, then looked down at her lap. He could practically hear her mind turning as if it were a machine.
The dowager returned her attention to Jack. “Mr. Barrett, I should like to host a dinner for our families. Let us plan for the twentieth. I will send a formal invitation to your father.”
Jack inclined his head. His father… He was going to be astounded. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
The dowager surprised him by rising. He jumped to his feet. “I have high expectations, Mr. Barrett, and you will not disappoint me, I am sure. You are a bright young man with a promising future. This will elevate your status, and I am confident you will bring honor and prestige to our family.” She looked at Viola then, and her gaze softened the slightest bit. “I also expect you will make my granddaughter happy. She deserves nothing less.”
Viola’s head snapped up. She gazed at her grandmother with surprise—and love.
The dowager’s momentary tenderness evaporated, and she was the regal autocrat once more. “Now then, I shall leave the two of you alone to discuss your future. Do not be too long.” She gave Jack a pointed look, but he wasn’t at all sure what she was trying to convey.
Then she departed the library, closing the door behind her.
Closing the door. What the hell did that mean in this context? Jack had never quite understood the aristocracy, and now that he was about to marry into that class, he was even less sure about them.
“I’m so sorry, Jack.”
He turned to face Viola. She’d only turned her head and now blinked at him, her beautiful blue eyes sad.
He reached into her lap and took her hand. “Why?”
“I never meant to force you into marriage. We don’t have to go through with it, regardless of what my grandmother says. I’ll move to the country if I must.”
“You aren’t moving anywhere. Except to my house, I suppose.” His bachelor house. It wasn’t that it was small. It just wasn’t where he’d imagined living with a wife and children. Children? What on earth was happening today!
Jack took a deep breath to try to stop the sudden racing of his heart. It matched the world around him, which seemed to be moving at an alarming pace. He’d barely come to grips with the idea of marriage—and truly, he still hadn’t—and now he was to wed in a week?
And yet he looked at Viola and thought of all the wonderful things that could mean. For once, he wouldn’t have to suffer through days when he didn’t see her or wonder when he might encounter her next.
He’d also be able to kiss her whenever he liked. Hell, he could do more than kiss her.
They could discuss books and politics—anything they wanted—at all hours of the day. Spending time with her, he realized, was the thing he liked most.
“We don’t need to wed,” Viola repeated. “Truly.”
“I disagree, and I don’t wish to argue about it. I refuse to allow you to suffer the scandal.”
Her eyes narrowed, showing him more of the feisty woman he’d come to know. “You refuse to allow me?”
“Viola, I don’t want you to. How can that be wrong of me?”
“Are you worried about scandal for yourself?” she asked. “Grandmama is right. You have a promising future, and I may have ruined it. Although, I’d still argue that I perhaps saved it by providing you an alibi for last night.”
“My alibi came at the cost of a scandal, whether we’re worried about it or not.” he said wryly. “But no, I’m not overly concerned about my future. I won’t lie and say it didn’t even occur to me, but I am far more concerned about you.”
“And I’ve told you not to be. I’ve suffered worse.”
He arched a brow at her. “Has anyone ever told you you’re stubborn?”
“Only my parents, my grandmother, my brother, my maid on occasion, probably Blenheim—our butler. No, not Blenheim. He would never. But I’ve seen it in his eyes.”
Jack tried not to laugh and failed.
She smiled in return. “I’m glad you aren’t angry anymore. I truly am sorry for what happened at the park.” Her smile faded, and she angled her body toward him. “Can we assume Caldwell and Sir Humphrey are behind the letter I received?”
Jack had thought about that on the walk over from the park and had come to the same conclusion. “They appear to be somehow involved. But how did they know I was at the Bull and Fox last night? I was careful to look around, both when I arrived and when I left. I didn’t see them or anyone else I knew.” He paused. “That’s not precisely true. I knew some of the men at the meeting. Some of them go to the Wicked Duke, but I don’t think they’re associated with Caldwell or Sir Humphrey. I’ve never seen them together, and they would have no reason to seek the other’s company.”
“Except they’re all together at the Wicked Duke. Maybe they went there after the meeting last night and saw Caldwell and Sir Humphrey.”
“Who just happened to ask if I was at the meeting?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m trying to puzzle this out. Did you go to the Wicked Duke afterward?”
“No, I went home.” It had been a rare occasion, and now he wished he’d gone. “I’ll stop in tonight after I visit my father.” He needed to tell him in person about the betrothal.
“I’ll meet you there.”
He should have seen that coming. “Viola, I don’t think it’s wise for you to continue as Tavistock, especially now that your grandmother knows the secret.”
“Why? She didn’t tell me to stop.”
He exhaled, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. For now. He intended to put an end to Tavistock for her own safety. “I can’t meet you there until ten at the earliest, and perhaps even eleven.”
“I will arrive around ten, and I’ll try to wait for you. Hurry.”
She actually didn’t have to ask. He was already counting the minutes until he’d see her again.
He stood. “I must go.”
She rose next to him. “That’s it? My grandmother closes the door and leaves us alone in here, and you’re just going to go?”
He grinned at her. “She told us not to be too long. Were you hoping I’d ravish you in the space of a quarter hour?” He was sorely tempted to try.
She sighed. “I was hoping that if I’d gone to the trouble to cause a scandal, I may as well do something scandalous.”
“Is that right?” He curled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him.
She gasped in surprise but eagerly twined her arms around his neck. “That is more what I had in mind.”
He tipped his head down and kissed her, licking along her lower lip. She pushed up into him, her breasts pressing into his chest as she touched her tongue to his. He lost himself in her embrace until she pulled back he wasn’t sure how much later.
Opening his eyes, he saw her incline her head toward the front window. “The sheer draperies provide a modicum of privacy, but it’s not absolute.”
Disappointment welled inside him, but he needed to go anyway. Besides, the dowager could decide at any moment that they’d been in here long enough.
He kissed her temple, his lips lingering against her sweet-smelling flesh. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“For perhaps my last outing as Tavistock.”
He looked down at her in surprise. “I was afraid I was going to have to work hard to persuade you to stop.”
“As I told you before, I’m eager, not stupid. Even I can see when I’ve pushed to the very edge. I can always create a new identity.” Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not sure I like that. We’ll discuss it later.” He kissed her again, then forced himself to leave.
As he walked to the end of the square to hail a hack, he wondered how his father would take the news of his marriage. Jack smiled, thinking his father was going to be very happy.
And that made Jack happy.
By ten that night, Viola was ensconced at a table in the main salon at the Wicked Duke. She had yet to see Jack—or Caldwell and Sir Humphrey.
“Eastleigh!”
Val scanned the room and, seeing Viola, came directly to her table. One of the barmaids delivered his tankard of ale before he was even seated. He, of course, knew she would be here because, per their agreement, she’d sent him a note.
He lifted his mug and whispered, “Congratulations.”
She scowled at him and didn’t lift her beer in return. “Shh.”
“No one heard me. Besides, maybe I’m congratulating you on buying a new horse.”
Ironically, Viola knew some men found that to be more exciting than getting married. Not that she was getting married. No, there had to be a way out of it, and yet she was concerned that Jack was intent on actually doing it. Especially since he’d apparently gone to see his father tonight.
She’d considered asking him not to, but her efforts to persuade him that the marriage wasn’t necessary were not being heard. Was that because he actually wanted to marry her? No, she couldn’t believe that. He’d always been clear in his priorities—he was focused on his career and didn’t have time for a wife at present.
Unfortunately, she’d taken that choice away from him. Well, she could give it back to him too. She’d left one man at the altar. What was another?
If she could do it. Jack was different from Edmund. Jack understood her. He valued her. He admired her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever find another man like him. Furthermore, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
And for that reason, she wasn’t sure she could force him into marriage, which was what this felt like. Was it any wonder she didn’t want to be congratulated?
“Grandmama is quite thrilled,” Val said.
“Thrilled? How on earth could that ever describe our grandmother?”
Val chuckled. “You have a point.” He glanced around. “Is Barrett here yet? And what does he think of”—his gaze raked over her—“that?”
He still kept his voice low, but Viola really didn’t want to discuss this here. “Can we save this conversation for another time?”
“Yes, yes. I’m just delighted for you, that’s all. I sincerely hope you and he will be as happy as Isabelle and I are.”
“Colehaven!”
Val glanced toward the door. “Will you excuse me? I need to speak with Cole.”
“Absolutely.” She was more than happy to be rid of him.
Giles Langford and Hugh Tarleton came in a few minutes later and joined her. She liked both of them and realized she was going to miss being one of the denizens of the Wicked Duke. She would miss the collegiality, the billiards, and the blessed independence of it all.
“Caldwell! Sir Humphrey!”
Viola’s ears pricked up, and her pulse sped. She watched as the two men entered, and plotted how she would approach them. Only she never got a chance.
Val and Cole blocked them from coming farther into the pub. A moment later, they’d ushered the pair outside, and when they returned, Cole made an announcement.
“Caldwell and Sir Humphrey are no longer welcome at the Wicked Duke. They insulted our good friend Jack Barrett this afternoon, and generally behaved in a reprehensible manner with regard to Eastleigh’s sister. For that reason, we have tossed them out.”
“If they insulted Barrett, good!” Giles called.
There was resounding agreement, and Viola couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride even while she was annoyed at being deprived of her quarry. She excused herself from the table and managed to sneak away into the private salon and then out through the rear entrance. Hastening her stride, she rushed around to the Haymarket in the hope that she could catch Caldwell and Sir Humphrey.
Luck was on her side as she saw them farther down the street. Thinking it would be best to have a “chance encounter,” she saw an opening in the traffic and dashed across the street. Then she ran up the opposite side and crossed back over so she could run into them.
She fought to catch her breath before she spoke. “Caldwell, Sir Humphrey, pleasant evening to you both.”
“It is not,” Sir Humphrey complained.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “I’m just headed to the Wicked Duke. Why don’t you join me for an ale, unless you’ve just come from there?” She acted as though she hadn’t witnessed their expulsion.
“We have just come from there. For the last time,” Caldwell said with considerable acid. “I might recommend you stay away. Eastleigh and Colehaven have gone mad and sided with that radical, Barrett.”
The perfect segue to see what they would tell her… “I heard about what happened in the park today. Was he really at that Spencean meeting?”
Caldwell nodded firmly. “Without question.”
“And yet it has been questioned,” Viola prodded.
Sir Humphrey curled his lip. “By that stupid chit—Eastleigh’s sister.”
Viola bit her tongue lest she show them how she wasn’t remotely stupid. Instead, she went along with them to encourage their continued sharing of information. “You think she was lying for him?”
“Of course she was. Barrett is a known radical sympathizer, as are several other members of Parliament. He was undoubtedly at that meeting last night.”
“You sound awfully confident,” Viola said, despera
te to know how they could be.
Sir Humphrey leaned forward and, looking quite smug, lowered his voice. “Because we have a man on the inside.”
Viola froze. That was the story. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Caldwell snapped. “Sir Humphrey has had too much to drink tonight. I need to see him home. Evening, Tavistock.” Caldwell grabbed Sir Humphrey’s elbow and dragged him along the pavement.
Viola turned and watched them walk away, Caldwell furiously talking into Sir Humphrey’s ear. Clearly, he’d spoken out of turn.
Oh, she couldn’t wait to tell Jack what she’d learned!
Pivoting, she practically skipped back to the Wicked Duke. And then, because luck was really with her that evening, she ran into Jack just as he arrived outside the tavern.
He grinned at her. “Excellent timing.”
“No, no. I’ve already been inside, and Caldwell and Sir Humphrey have been banned.” She grabbed Jack’s elbow much the same as Caldwell had grabbed Sir Humphrey and started down the Haymarket.
Jack moved alongside her, and she dropped her hand. “What happened?”
“Caldwell and Sir Humphrey came in, and my brother and Cole expelled them. Forever. They told everyone he’d insulted you—and me, Viola me, not Tavistock—and were no longer welcome at the Wicked Duke.”
“That’s…very nice.”
“It was bloody brilliant!” She laughed. “You should have heard everyone. You are clearly far more liked than either of them.”
“That is unsurprising,” he murmured before leading her across the street to Charles Street.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He stopped on the other side of the street. “I don’t know. I was simply walking the way I usually do when I leave the Wicked Duke—to my house.”
“Oh.” She suddenly wanted to go to his house. “Can I see it? I can tell you what I learned along the way. Then I can take a hack home.”
“Not alone, you won’t.”
“Fine. Anyway, I’m simply bursting with what I must tell you, so please stop interrupting.”
He laughed softly as they made their way into St. James’s Square. “I am hardly interrupting. You are not talking fast enough.”
