Marquess of Malice: Lords of Scandal Book 2

by Andresen, Tammy

  Marquess of Malice

  Lords of Scandal Book 2

  Tammy Andresen

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  Copyright © 2020 by Tammy Andresen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Lords of Scandal

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Earl of Exile

  About the Author

  Other Titles by Tammy

  Lords of Scandal

  While Marquess of Malice is a stand alone romance, your reading experience would be enhanced by reading the completely free prologue, Lord of Scandal!

  Chapter One

  Malice, as his friends fondly referred to him, sat on a bench in the garden of the Chase family home, staring at the newly emerging spring flowers sprouting from the ground.

  His name was Lord Chadwick Hennessey, Marquess of Malicorn, but no one had called him by his given name since his mother had given it to him with her dying breath.

  Which was likely why he hated being called Chadwick. It held too many ugly memories. He ran his hand through his hair, staring at a small green bud struggling to rise up through the dirt. He grimaced. He’d been that flower as a child. Struggling and straining to flourish, the very ground that was supposed to nurture him pushing him back into the dirt.

  He straightened his back, drawing in a deep breath. He wasn’t that child any longer. He was a grown man now who never wallowed in self-pity.

  Standing, he stared down at the tiny plant. He wouldn’t expend emotion on a flower but he could help it. Just a bit. He leaned over and brushed the dirt away from the small plant giving it more room to grow. Satisfaction spread through his limbs and he let out a long breath as more of the bright green stock came into view.

  “Oh,” a feminine voice trilled from his left. “My apologies, my lord.”

  He stopped, his fingers still in the dirt. He’d been caught caring about a tiny plant. Even worse, it was her who had made the discovery. His insides tightened. Despite the fact this was only the second time they’d met, he knew the sound of Lady Cordelia Chase’s voice without even looking at her.

  Malice had carefully fostered a reputation of reckless abandon sprinkled with a healthy dose of sarcastic indifference. He rarely showed emotion toward anyone or anything. He most definitely didn’t want Lady Cordelia to think he was a sappy sort. It would give her the wrong impression. “What are you apologizing for?” Malice straightened, giving her a long look as he glared down at her. How odd.

  She pushed up her glasses, nibbling at her lip. “For interrupting. Had I known anyone was out here, I would have come with a chaperone.”

  He relaxed, his shoulders slumping down. She didn’t seem to have noticed that he was aiding tiny plants. “No need to apologize.” He cared not if she were chaperoned, despite the fact that she was a tender debutante. “How goes the wedding breakfast?”

  Cordelia turned back to look at the house. “Very well. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just return inside.”

  “No need.” He waved his hand. “I’ll escort you back to the wedding breakfast in just a moment.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “I beg your pardon?”

  He ignored her question, instead studying her from top to bottom. Her fair hair was tied rather tightly back from her face. The hair itself looked soft and he wondered how she might look with a looser coif. Her glasses perpetually slid down her nose, likely because it was the tiniest nose he’d ever seen with just a slight upturn at the bottom. When she looked at him over the top of the glasses, her eyes were a striking color of crystal blue like a lake on a sunny day. Quite pleasant.

  On their very first meeting, she’d not been wearing the spectacles and had promptly tripped into his arms. She had a nice figure. Curvy without being overly large, and without the dark rims of her glasses, he’d noted the lovely shape of her eyes, large and clear with a gentle upturn at the outside corners. Glasses or no, a man couldn’t miss how nice the curve of her mouth was—so full and tempting.

  He’d also realized she was a quiet and affable lady who would make an excellent wife.

  Unlike many men, he’d made several decisions on that front. First, he planned never to fall in love. Emotions like that were an affliction. As the holder of the title, he was obligated to continue his line, by marrying and conceiving an heir. Not a part of his life he looked forward to.

  His parents’ marriage had been brief, to say the least. Barely a year. He didn’t remember his mother, of course, but he couldn’t imagine that the union had been a happy one, if his own relationship with his father was any indication. Although his father would swear that all the love he felt had died with his mother. “Tell me, Lady Cordelia. How do you spend your time?” He assumed reading, knitting, and socializing were at the top of her list. All excellent pastimes for a wife.

  She shrugged, inching back a bit. “I don’t know. What all ladies do. A little of this and a bit of that.”

  He stepped forward. Her comment highlighted what he liked about her. She appeared to be a malleable woman. Easy in her temperament, which was exactly the sort of woman he needed.

  And that was the main reason he was here. Cordelia, along with her sisters, had arrived at their secret club in the middle of the night. But the ladies weren’t supposed to be there. In fact, they weren’t supposed to know about the club at all. Now one of his partners, the Earl of Effington, was married to Cordelia’s sister, Emily.

  When Emily had arrived with her two sisters, Cordelia and Grace, and her cousins, Minnie and Diana, all hell had broken loose. The men were concerned about the club’s secret, the ladies about their reputations. Emily and Jack had almost called off the wedding. And the other men had begun to fear for their club’s reputation and continued business. They’d made a thriving, financially successful gaming hell by creating an air of mystery about their identities. To make certain this continued, Malice and his friends had decided to watch the ladies and make certain they didn’t share their secret.

  “Sounds delightful,” he said, his thoughts still on their first meeting a few weeks prior.

  When Cordelia had nearly fallen directly into his arms, she’d blushed and apologized. He’d held her close, taken off her domino, and studied her face. She was pretty, petite, almost pixie-like. Quiet and unassuming. He’d decided right then. He’d marry her, make an heir, and settle her into his country estate leaving her to raise the child. Easy.

  She squinted her eyes. “Really? I was thinking a little of this and a bit of that didn’t sound like anything at all.”

  He looked back at her, his mind refocusing to the present. Was the sun reflecting off her glasses or was there a glint in her eye? “Precisely.”

  Her small pink tongue darted from her mouth and licked her full upper lip, starting in one corn
er and sliding across the entire bow of her mouth until it finally finished on the opposite side. His insides tightened in the strangest way. He knew what lust was, he was a seasoned man of eight and twenty. He’d had more than his fair share of partners. But Cordelia should have nothing to do with such emotions. Why was his body responding to her? She was the safe and predictable choice.

  He’d chosen her so that he’d have a wife from whom he could remain detached.

  “What do you mean, precisely? Precisely what? That doesn’t make sense. You don’t want me to say anything of consequence?” She narrowed her gaze. “Why do you care what I say at all?”

  He frowned. They were already getting off topic. “You’re missing the point.”

  “I don’t think I am.” She curtseyed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Lady Cordelia gave a small sniff and then she turned to go.

  Malice dropped his hands, his brow scrunching. What the bloody hell was she doing? Letting out a frustrated breath he crossed the garden and grabbed her arm.

  * * *

  Cordelia started down the path, determined to leave the Marquess of Malicorn where he belonged—in her past.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, precisely. He was darkly handsome with a square jaw and features that were disconcerting in their sharpness. Prominent cheek bones and a heavy brow that lent him an air of danger.

  She shivered, despite herself. His large frame hinted at muscles that surely were a hazard to any upstanding lady. Both because she knew him to be a man that didn’t follow rules and because all his features put together, made him rather…exciting.

  As if he were reading her thoughts, he reached out and wrapped his fingers about her arm at the same time he spoke her name. “Lady Cordelia.”

  She jolted, her insides going silly as she whirled about. “You frightened me.”

  He immediately dropped his hand. “My apologies. I simply would like to continue our conversation.”

  Cordelia caught her lip between her teeth. “Very kind of you, but I must decline.”

  He stared down at her, his brows drawing together. She’d thought his eye color was near black but out here in the light, she could see they were far more chocolate in their shade of brown and rather endearing. “Why?”

  Her mouth opened as she tried to form words. Why? Was it not obvious? “You are an eligible man and I am an eligible woman. We should not be found alone together. We’ve enough scandal floating about us already. You know the Countess of Abernath has threatened to expose me and my family for our visit to your club. We should take every precaution to be proper.”

  He relaxed at those words, his shoulders easing down. “I agree and I appreciate your sense of propriety. It’s a most advantageous quality.”

  Cordelia stilled, his words tumbling about her mind. There it was again. He was complimenting her on some attribute that he found pleasing. Why? “You like my propriety and my hobbies that I haven’t even named. Which actually makes no sense.”

  His brow dropped low, his mouth pinching into a frown. “You’re smarter than I thought you’d be.”

  “Thank you?” she said, giving her head a small shake.

  He waved. “No matter.” Then he reached out to her again, taking her hand in his. Even with her gloves on, a tingly sort of sensation travelled up her arm. “What I wish to discuss with you would solve all of your problems with the countess and with propriety and so on and so forth.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Why do I get the impression that I want to know the details of the so on and so forth?”

  His mouth pulled to one side. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “Again. Thank you.” The tingling was growing distracting and so she pulled her hand from his. Then she bobbed another quick curtsy. “If that is all, my lord.”

  “No.” He crossed his arms. “That isn’t all.”

  She suppressed a sigh. He clearly wasn’t going to gracefully allow her to leave until he’d said whatever he was hinting around. “Pray, continue.”

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “As a marquess there are certain duties that I need filled.”

  “Duties?” Oh dear. There was only one reason a lord wished to speak to a lady about his duties and that was when he wanted her to fulfill one of them for him by giving him a child. Cordelia cleared her throat, pressing her hand to her stomach.

  “Yes.” He stepped a bit closer and she moved back. The frown lines on his forehead deepened. “I am in need of a wife and child to ensure that my line and legacy continue. I think that you’d make an excellent candidate. Not only would you be helping me secure my future but I, in turn, could protect you from any scandal.”

  “Scandal you’re creating now by the two of us being here alone?” she asked, taking another step back. The Marquess of Malicorn was not a suitable candidate for her. Not only was he mysteriously dangerous, but he engaged in questionable pastimes.

  He scoffed, the smell of the cigar he’d surely just smoked filling her nostrils. She’d always liked the scent. It was earthy with a bit of cherry. “I mean you coming into a part of town you weren’t supposed to be in and then stumbling into the back room of a gentleman’s club.” He lowered his head. “The countess knows sensitive information about you.”

  Cordelia placed her other hand over her heart. “Are all your friends going to propose to my sisters and cousin?” Point in fact, Minnie had just married the Duke of Darlington and the Earl of Exmouth had seemed quite interested in her sister, Diana. Was this a group plan?

  He raised his hands up. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I’m just trying to determine your motivations. Your sudden proposal is quite a surprise.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and two fingers. “Perhaps my first impression of you was incorrect.”

  “Oh, this should be interesting. Tell me, what did you think of me?” Butterflies flitted in her stomach exposing her lie. She wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to know.

  He dropped his hands. “That you’d be a suitable wife. I wished to speak with you to ask you to marry me.”

  “But you no longer wish to ask?” That was beside the point. She didn’t want to marry him either. “And what about me precisely seemed suitable?” Even the word suitable made her heart sink. Diana was bold and daring. Minnie was strong and fiery. Grace was beautiful beyond compare and Ada was angelic. But Cordelia, the word burned in her brain. She was suitable. It wasn’t that she hadn’t known her entire life she was the least of all her cousins and sisters. But she’d hoped, perhaps foolishly, to find a man who thought her more. In fact, it had been the one dream that had carried her through a childhood where she was often unseen, surrounded by so many beautiful women.

  “You’re not so loud and brash. You have manners, you seem quiet and—”

  “Please, Lord Malicorn. That’s enough.” She held up her hand. “Much as I appreciate your offer for a suitable match. I simply must decline.”

  “What?” He reached for her arm again, but she was quick enough to step back this time. She wouldn’t be caught by him again.

  Taking a breath, she notched her chin as Diana or Minnie would do. “You heard me, my lord. My answer to your proposal is no.”

  Chapter Two

  The little imp spun about and raced down the path leaving Malice to stand there with his bloody mouth gaping open. “She said no,” he repeated to no one in particular. A garden bird answered, calling merrily as though to mock him. He was a marquess, for Christ’s sake. Women didn’t say no to marquesses, did they?

  Recovering his senses, he stalked after her. Did he want to catch her? He wasn’t so certain. Actually, he was beginning to regret his proposal entirely.

  He supposed he should have gotten to know her better but that was the point. Malice didn’t want to know her. He wished to bed her and then ship her off. Complete his duty without ever feeling a thing.

  The very fact that she’d poked at his motivat
ions and then fled told him what he needed to know. She wasn’t the woman for him. A little disappointment made him rub the back of his neck. Part of him had been looking forward to the bedding.

  Which was ridiculous. He could find another woman that was little and blonde with a small pink tongue and…he slashed his hand through the air. He didn’t need a replacement for Cordelia. He didn’t need her at all, well except for the part where she conceived an heir.

  But if she didn’t want the position, he’d find another woman to fill the role. One who didn’t ask so many bloody questions.

  He stormed back up the steps and through the front door of the Chase home. He’d say goodbye to his friend, Daring, the Duke of Darlington, and leave this place, never to return. He didn’t need Lady Cordelia Chase, he’d been doing her a favor, after all.

  But he didn’t have a chance to return to the wedding breakfast. Daring was standing in the foyer with his arms crossed over his chest. “What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?” Daring had a deep voice and it echoed up the vaulted ceilings, reaching the intricately painted cherubs that graced the entry. The Lord of Winthrop was an earl and a rich one at that.

  Malice stopped, assessing his friend. “Coming to say goodbye.”

  “And where were you just now?”

  Malice let out a groan of frustration. “What is it with all the questions today?”

  Daring took a step closer, his body tensed like a bear or a wolf. His chest was puffed out and his teeth showed in the morning light. “Just one more question. Were you alone in the garden with Cordelia?”