by Laura Landon
She lifted her gaze to where Joshua sat opposite her, pretending interest in a book. She noted he hadn’t turned the page once in the last thirty minutes.
“How is the book?” She threaded her needle with yellow thread.
“Very interesting. It is—“ He had to look down to read the title. “…um…The Count of Monte Cristo by Dumas. Have you read it?”
“Yes. David gave me a copy at Christmas.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes.” She pretended concentration on her embroidery again. “I found it fascinating.”
She started a yellow daisy in a ring of flowers beneath her tree. “A footman delivered an invitation this morning to a ball hosted by the Countess of Evernon.” She kept her voice even, as if her request was unimportant. “I thought perhaps—“
“Not yet, Allison.”
“But invitations have arrived by the score. By refusing them all, you’ve made us a novelty.”
“We were a novelty long before now. With our unexpected betrothal, Archbite’s challenge and duel, our rushed wedding, then fleeing from anyone’s watchful gaze immediately after our vows, we’ve made ourselves objects of speculation and intrigue. Everything that’s happened to us since we met has added to our ‘novelty’.”
Allison lowered her gaze. “Phoebe wrote that we have become the most sought after married couple in London. Everyone is vying for our attendance at their gatherings. The fact that we haven’t surfaced since our arrival in London has only fueled speculation.” She stabbed the needle through her cloth. “Everyone is placing bets on whose gala will be enticing enough to force us out of the house to spend at least one evening in public. I don’t even want to imagine what they think we’re doing when we stay cloistered here.”
Her husband smiled. “Personally, I find that rather flattering.”
She couldn’t help but look embarrassed. And it was not far off the mark. Their time together had been remarkable, hours filled with talking and laughing and loving and...simply enjoying each other’s company.
She’d loved every minute of it and was loathe to give up being with him. But she also knew the reason he kept her cloistered was not because he wanted to give Society something over which to speculate. It was almost as if he kept her hidden to protect her. Her theory was corroborated by the fact that every time Joshua left the house, the Marquess of Chardwell magically appeared. As if Joshua’s absence had been pre-arranged so she would never be alone.
It wasn’t that she did not enjoy the marquess’s company. She enjoyed him immensely. He was charming and witty, and filled with the latest gossip from every drawing room. But he joined her as part of a pre-conceived plan between him and Joshua.
“Would you like to go for a walk in the gardens?” Joshua asked, pulling her from her musings.
“Is that my only choice?”
There was a twinkle in his eyes. “We could always go upstairs to rest. I feel quite fatigued right now.” He closed his book and moved to rise.
“I doubt you are in the least fatigued.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m not naïve enough to fall for that excuse, husband. I know good and well neither of us would get a wink of sleep if we went upstairs.”
He sighed as if he were disappointed. “Then we might as well go for that walk.”
He held out his hand to her. She came to her feet and made a move to step into his arms, then stopped when a loud noise erupted from the foyer. His hands grasped her upper arms and turned her.
“Stay out of sight,” he ordered, then pushed her to the far corner of the room. “Go!” He lunged toward the desk and pulled open a drawer.
She couldn’t move but clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream. He reached inside the drawer and brought out a pistol.
“Joshua?”
“Go!”
He stuck the pistol in the pocket of his breeches and moved toward her.
Loud shouts and violent curses echoed in the hallway, followed by the shattering crash of a piece of furniture. She tried to get to the far side of the room but the study door burst open and the Duke of Ashbury staggered in, dragging Converse and another footman with him. Joshua rushed to her side and pushed her behind him.
“Damn you to hell!” Ashbury flailed his fist in the air. He shook the two men from him as if they weighed nothing and took another step into the room.
Allison stepped out enough to look at the man who was her father-in-law.
His hair was tangled and uncombed, his disheveled clothing wrinkled and far from clean. His dark blue coat was torn at the sleeve and the buttons of his waistcoat were mismatched, giving him an off balance appearance.
His shirt had been white at one time, but was no longer, and his cravat hung untied around his neck. He looked like a man in need of a hot bath and fresh clothing, but she knew that would only change his outside appearance. No amount of soap and water would change the demented look in his eyes.
She’d never seen such malevolence, such undisguised contempt as she saw when father looked at son. Her heart ached with a pain that nearly took her to her knees.
No son should ever have to see such blatant hatred in his father’s eyes.
+++
Joshua stared at his father, at his wild appearance, at the haunted look in his eyes, at the demented bitterness etched in the contorted scowl on his face, and at the snarl on his lips.
Chardwell had told him his father had stepped beyond the edge of sanity, but he’d refused to believe it. He didn’t want to think that the hatred the duke had always felt for him had eaten away at his mind.
Chardwell had also warned him that his father had threatened to do Joshua harm. He didn’t want to believe that either. But he could see it was true.
“I’ve been searching for you, Father.”
The duke stumbled further into the room, his nearness a greater threat. Joshua stepped in front of Allison and put out his hand, wanting her to stay behind him.
“For what reason, son?” he slurred, spitting out the word ‘son’ as if it were bile in his mouth. “Have you thought of another way to humiliate me? Another method to destroy me?”
“My intent was not to destroy you, but to save you from losing everything. Your very dukedom is at stake.”
Ashbury laughed, the sound a demented bark. “You mean your dukedom is at stake. You took such steps because of greed. You want what you have no right to own!”
His father’s words were a blow, but nothing he hadn’t heard before. He stood in silence, meeting his father’s glaring hatred, pretending his words did not matter.
His father stepped closer, staggering noticeably. “You figured out what I was doing,” he slurred. The corners of his mouth lifted in a malevolent snarl. He raked his fingers through his twisted, wind-blown hair, then swung his hand through the air. A vase he hit on a nearby table teetered precariously, then fell to the floor and shattered.
“Damn! I nearly succeeded. I nearly managed to lose it all so there wouldn’t be anything left. But then she came along.”
Joshua inched to the side to keep himself positioned between Allison and his father.
“If it weren’t for her,” his father said, jabbing an accusing finger in Allison’s direction, “it would all be gone by now. Only a little while longer, and everything would have been lost to you!”
Joshua’s breathing came in harsh jagged gasps. Certainly his father loved Philip and barely tolerated him, but he never thought he’d go to these lengths. Not to the point of losing Ashland Park and the other Ashbury estates in order to keep him from inheriting them.
“Why?” he said through clenched teeth. “Why would you want to lose everything?”
“Why!” He staggered backwards and threw out his arm, his hand in a fist railing at heaven. “So you could not have it. It was Philip’s. Not yours! Everything was to go to him. Not you!”
“Philip is dead!”
His father staggered as if he’d received a great blow.
“Yes. And you killed him.”
“Philip died because he forced his horse to attempt a jump he couldn’t possibly make.”
“No!”
“Yes!
His father lunged forward but caught himself against the corner of the desk, then glared more intently. “You think you’ve won, don’t you? You think you’ll get it all. That your wife’s dowry has saved you from losing everything.” He shook his head. “You haven’t. Do you know why?”
Silence.
“Because I know the conditions of your marriage contract.”
Ashbury staggered to the small table where Joshua kept the liquor and pulled the stopper from a cut glass decanter. He lifted the bottle to his lips and drank, then swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. When he turned to face them, the look on his face changed. His lips curled in a sardonic grin that caused Joshua to take pause.
“I cannot believe you were so foolish to agree to a condition you have no chance of meeting.” He threw his head back and laughed. He straightened, then aimed his glare at Allison.
Joshua put his arm out and held her to him. She was trembling.
“Do you really think you are woman enough to keep this rakehell from straying? There isn’t a woman alive who can satisfy him. He’s just like his mother. His blood runs as hot as hers did. He won’t be any more faithful than she was.”
The air left Joshua’s body. “How dare you!” He wanted to strangle his father, wanted to strike out and do him harm, but Allison’s small, firm hand in his stopped him.
“Why are you here?” he asked. He wanted his father out of his house. Wanted to never set eyes on him again.
“Just wanted to meet my new daughter-in-law.”
“Get out!”
“But I’ve just come. And you have yet to introduce me.”
He had no intention of introducing Allison to anyone so vile as his father, but without warning, Allison stepped out.
“Your Grace.” She bowed a polite curtsy and faced his father with as much courage as he’d ever seen.
“So you’re the woman who so foolishly sacrificed her wealth for a husband who will never be faithful to her.” He took another step toward them.
“That’s enough!”
“Surely you know that?” Ashbury took another step.
To her credit, Allison didn’t flinch, but held her ground. “I know no such thing, Your Grace.”
“Of course you do, Lady Montfort. I think that’s why you included a fidelity stipulation in your marriage contract. To protect yourself from the day when your husband is unfaithful.”
Blind fury erupted like a bright explosion deep inside him. He wanted his father out of his house, away from him. Away from Allison. “Your Grace,” he said through clenched teeth, “I don’t think we have anything further to discuss.”
He stepped in front of Allison to shield her from any more of his father’s vicious attacks. “As I’m sure you are aware, I now own every Ashbury property with the exception of Ashland Park and two other estates that are entailed. They are yours until your death. What you do with them is entirely up to you. I have saved what I could.”
“Your precious Graystone Manor?”
“Yes. Graystone Manor is safe from you. The rest I don’t care about. I never did.”
“Damn you!”
Joshua gave no quarter. He wanted the break clean. “I have set up a sizable allowance for you to use as you see fit. Or you can refuse it and live in the squalor you have created for yourself. It matters not to me. You are the one who put yourself in this position. You will have to deal with it however you like.”
The duke bellowed a vile oath. “I wouldn’t touch a pound of your blood money if I were starving.
Joshua shrugged his shoulders. “That is up to you.”
His father’s expression turned even more vile. “You won’t keep Graystone Manor or anything else you’ve paid for. There is no way you will meet the stipulations of your marriage contract. You are a whoremonger, a philanderer. There is no way you will stay out of another woman’s bed. It will happen as surely as I’m standing here. Then, if your wife is not a fool, she will take it all away from you.”
“Enough!” Joshua bellowed, and swiped his hand through the air. For the first time, he saw fear in his father’s eyes. The duke stumbled backward, but righted himself against the settee.
Joshua took another step closer. “Get out! This is my home and you are no longer welcome here.”
“You are so cock sure of yourself,” he spat, then turned to Allison. “Just wait, my lady. It won’t be long before your husband leaves your bed for someone else’s.”
Joshua reached for Allison’s hand, but when he turned toward her, her face was pale. A heavy weight fell to the pit of his stomach. “My wife knows that will never be a concern. I have given her my word.”
“Your mother gave her word, too. Her solemn oath on our wedding day. Your promise will be no more trustworthy than hers.” He paused, sliding his gaze back to Allison. “Unless, of course, you’re fool enough to think you’re woman enough to keep him in your bed.” The duke’s accusing gaze scrutinized his wife’s body, lingering on her breasts, then dropping below her waist. He laughed. “You’re not.”
Joshua saw red. “Out! Get out of my house right now.” He took his father by the arm and ushered him to the door. Converse magically appeared and rushed to open the front door.
Ashbury jerked his arm out of Joshua’s grasp and slashed his hand through the air as if Joshua’s very touch disgusted him. “You’ll lose it all. I’ll see to it. You’ll never get what should have been Philip’s. Never!”
Ashbury staggered across the threshold. The minute he stepped outside, Converse closed the door and slid the heavy metal bolt into the lock.
Joshua faced the door, his chest heaving to force air into his lungs, the blood thundering through his head. His mind was a riot of incoherent thoughts. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Couldn’t believe his father had said the things he had—that his mother hadn’t been faithful, had taken lovers.
A thought raced through his mind that was so debilitating his whole body went numb. Was his father implying that he wasn’t his son?
“Joshua?”
Her gentle voice seeped through the filth and chaotic muddle in his mind like a breath of clean, fresh air. He fought his way back to her, back to the goodness that was such a part of her. He turned.
She stood in the doorway, her silhouette a masterpiece of near perfection. Oh, how he needed her, how he wanted to hold her. To have her wrap her arms around him so he could forget his father’s accusations.
“Joshua?”
Her voice wafted over him like a gentle whisper. She didn’t move at first, then took a tentative step forward and halted, unsure. With slow deliberation, he stretched out his arms to her, showing her the only way he knew how much he needed her.
She came forward, slowly at first, then with a small cry, she ran into his arms.
He wrapped his trembling arms around her and held her close, crushing her to him as if he never wanted to let her go. “Are you all right?” he asked, pressing his lips to the top of her head.
“Yes, but you…”
He sensed her fear, felt the effect his father’s words had on her. “Shh. I’m fine. I am, after all, used to this.”
“You can’t be. No one could.” She tilted her head back to look at him. “Your father is ill, Joshua. His grief over your brother’s death has twisted his mind.”
He shook his head. “His hatred for me did that a long time ago. Philip’s death only snapped the fragile thread that connected him to sanity.”
There was a desperation in the way she clung to him. “What are we going to do?” She rested her cheek against his chest and held him tighter.
“I’ve done everything I know of to save my inheritance. My father...is lost to me.”
She breathed a harsh breath that shuddered when she released it. “We should le
ave here.” She burrowed against him even closer.
A certain wariness crept over him. There was a frightened anxiety in her voice.
“I’ll tell Emma to pack.” She lifted her gaze to meet his. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. We can go back to Graystone Manor. We’ll be safe there.”
The air caught in his lungs. “Safe from what, Allison?”
She averted her eyes and worried her bottom lip. “Everything.”
But he knew she feared only one thing. That his father’s words would come true.
As long as she could isolate him in the country, she didn’t have to fear he would find another woman to share his bed.
He grasped her by the shoulders and held her out to look in her eyes. He lifted a loose strand of hair from her cheek, then brushed one finger over the tiny worry lines on her forehead. “Whose invitation did you say we received for tonight?”
Surprise was evident on her face. She shook her head but answered him. “The Countess of Evernon. She is hosting a ball.”
“We will attend.”
Her eyes opened wide. “But…your father?”
“We have nothing more to fear from him. He will not search me out any longer. He has said what he wanted to say. And from what Chardwell says, his name has not been included on any invitation list for weeks.”
“But…are you sure you want to go? Tonight?”
“Yes.” He kissed the frown on her forehead. “It is time we made our way back into Society. Time the ton saw us as the happy couple we are.”
Time I earned your trust, he thought, but did not say the words out loud.
“Let’s go upstairs and pick out your prettiest ball gown. We will make a grand entrance tonight.”
She smiled up at him, but he saw the hesitancy in her gaze. His father had done an exemplary job of bringing to light all her fears, and destroying whatever faith she’d come to have in him.
