The Bad Luck Bride

by Janna MacGregor

  As Alex gasped for breath, Langham finally addressed him. “Did you think to use my niece, a Cavensham, without repercussions? Pembrooke, even you can surmise you’ve worn out your welcome. Pitts will see you out.”

  In a harsh, throaty whisper, Alex wheezed, “Your Grace, I’ve come to see my wife and take her home.” He’d be damned if he’d leave without Claire.

  Without hesitation, the duke grabbed him by the cravat and punched again, landing the hit square on the left side of his face.

  Alex’s head snapped backward. When he got his bearings, his face was numb. The metallic taste of iron seeped into his mouth.

  “Sebastian, stop,” the duchess cried as she ran into the drawing room and grabbed her husband’s arm.

  “Ginny, he’ll not speak to her.” The duke’s voice exploded across the room.

  With the celestial dance center stage in his vision, Alex looked up and a vision of Claire floated in front of his eyes. For an instant, he forgot to breathe. She was more beautiful than he remembered. If he could touch her face with his hand for a moment, he’d die without regret. He took his handkerchief and wiped the blood from his mouth. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the jumble from his brain.

  His eyes held hers as he addressed her while ignoring the others. “Claire. I’m sorry…” He stopped to swallow the blood in his mouth. “May we talk in private?”

  The duke roared, “Ginny, get her away. Now!”

  Claire stepped forward. “Alex?” Her voice softened and worry outlined her eyes. It was a sign from heaven.

  “Now!” the duke demanded.

  All hope drained as the duchess escorted Claire out of the room. When Alex flinched, the entire left side of his face felt as if it had fallen off. This was a harder challenge than he had anticipated.

  The duke put a decisive end to Alex’s misery. “Pembrooke, I take this personally. I encouraged Claire to marry you.”

  Alex cleared the blood from his throat once more. He ached to whisper, let alone speak at a volume the duke could hear. “With all due respect, she’s my wife.”

  The duke’s fury was still high as he shouted, “You’ll not see her after you managed to make a bloody blunder of the whole affair. I have my solicitors looking at every section, every sentence, and every word of the settlements for legal action against you. If she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you, I’ll support her wherever she lives. She’s no longer your responsibility.” And without another word, the duke stormed from the room.

  The day didn’t improve once he focused on McCalpin and Lord William. He waited for whatever sentence they planned to execute. When the silence lasted too long for his taste, Alex asked, “I assume you want to have a go at me, too?”

  “Pembrooke, we let our father have the first swing.” McCalpin’s voice was low. “Even though I won a tidy sum off that bet at White’s, you tried to sully my cousin and family. I should tear you limb from limb, then feed you to my dogs. I won’t kill you. But I guarantee you’ll wish I had.”

  Lord William was much more vicious in thought and deed than his brother. “When he’s done, I’ll take great pleasure in what I have in store for you. I’ll drag your sorry arse to McCalpin’s estate for the night. I’m sure it will be described as self-defense.”

  Both took their leave without a look back. His treatment from the Cavensham family was not surprising, but he hadn’t thought Langham would refuse to allow him to see Claire. If he could have had her in a room without their interference, he’d have convinced her to come home.

  In order to win his wife’s favor once again, he had to see her. Perhaps he needed to study the daily papers in greater detail. He’d have to start attending balls and other events. It was fortuitous he lived in proximity to Langham Hall. It would make it easier to keep watch.

  * * *

  Leaving Alex lying on the floor was one of the hardest things she’d done in her life. The urge to rush to his side and tend his wounds almost overpowered her. But if she had, Uncle Sebastian’s anger would have erupted into even more violence. It was doubtful that Alex could have withstood much more of her uncle’s wrath.

  There had been a large amount of blood on his face and waistcoat. His breath had been short and labored. What if his ribs were broken? Claire choked with worry as she tried to catch a glimpse out the window. Alex exited the house and looked toward the second floor. Claire didn’t move an inch, though he didn’t know where her room was. Alex looked straight at her and sent her a swollen, lopsided grin.

  An arm slipped around her waist. Emma pulled her tight against her and squeezed. “Your husband is still handsome, even if some of his face looks scrambled. At least his nose wasn’t broken.”

  “Do you think he’s all right?”

  “Hmm, I think so. He walked out of the house without assistance.” Emma led her into the attached sitting room. “Shall we go shopping? For books,” she quickly added.

  “Another time, perhaps.” Claire would never admit it to another, but she was thrilled he had come for her. Alex’s gesture in coming to Langham Hall must mean he felt at least something. However, the sole person she fooled was herself. She was the only one who had considered theirs a true marriage.

  McCalpin and William stood when they entered. McCalpin took Claire’s hand in his. “He’ll be fine.”

  She broke away and walked to the window for a last look. William joined her and followed her gaze. He tipped her chin up and forced her to look into his deep blue eyes. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll see it done. He’ll not hurt you again.”

  “That’s just it. I’m not certain what I want, but I’ll not have him physically harmed.” She studied all three of her cousins’ faces.

  “Claire,” William chided. “You’re such a spoilsport.”

  “Let’s go to Hailey’s Hope. I purchased a copy of Captain Cook’s journal about his first voyage around the world.” Emma tugged at Claire’s arm. “Mr. Napier asked that I bring it and you the next time I visited. You could use a little fresh air, don’t you think?”

  McCalpin took Claire’s other arm. “We’ll join you.”

  Within a quarter hour, the quartet walked through the charity’s large wooden doors. The incessant tension left Claire briefly as she enjoyed her time with the residents. She concentrated on their news and pushed aside all thoughts of Alex and the meaning of his visit to Langham Hall.

  William never left her side. Determined she would enjoy her time, he told stories of their childhood exploits to the residents. The laughter grew in volume until McCalpin and Emma appeared to see what the commotion was all about. They quickly joined the group and tried to upstage Will.

  Claire managed to slip away and worked on the letters asking for donations for the children’s home. A knock at the door broke her concentration. Will leaned against the doorway with a smile of approval. A quick glance at the clock left her speechless. For two hours, she had been lost in her work.

  “Thank you, William,” she said. “I needed the time here today.”

  “Always a pleasure to have your company.” He tilted his head. “My stories didn’t drive you away, did they?”

  She exhaled a long sigh of contentment. “On the contrary. They reminded me of all the great memories I’ve acquired since coming to live with you and your family.”

  “You love him?” William was never one to be tentative.

  Her answer was a nod. It was all she could manage.

  “There must be something redeeming about him, then.”

  When she returned home, Claire sent Aileen to Aunt Ginny with the message that she would not attend this evening’s social entertainment. What little respite she had claimed at the charity, she didn’t want to waste on another London ball.

  She’d wanted to savor the time with her family. Any peacefulness she’d experienced from her visit to Hailey’s Hope would flee once she prepared for sleep. Alex would no doubt consume her thoughts again.

  Chapter Thirteen
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  The next morning Alex followed Claire to Rotten Row, but he took the long way around the park. The extra time allowed him to organize his apology. The opportunity was precious since there would be little chance her family would interfere.

  He took a deep breath in readiness, then urged Ares forward toward the bridle path. But when the park came into full view, he was brought to a standstill by the unexpected sight before him. On horseback, Claire was animated as she talked to Lord Paul.

  With wariness, Alex emerged from the mist. With a sharp turn of the reins, Claire took flight, with Charles beside her. Alex’s leg twitched in readiness to spur Ares to gallop after her, but his priorities instantly changed. Why was she with him?

  Alex felt the flinch of his jaw and delivered a hard, cold glare as he approached Lord Paul. His bruised face, a souvenir from his visit at Langham Hall, should lend a hint of menace to the confrontation.

  Lord Paul took his time and looked Alex over from head to toe. “Nine shades of blue. Souvenir from your lady wife? Those colors are altogether dashing and a vast improvement over your normal visage.”

  “Stay away from my wife.”

  Lord Paul laughed, but the ragged sound held little humor. “Your wife prefers my company to yours. Some things never change.” He tilted his head, then sidled his skittish horse closer. “Pembrooke, you should have never manipulated my life, or Claire’s. You’re the one who’ll pay with a lifetime of misery.”

  If Lord Paul knew the full extent of Alex’s wretchedness, he’d be satisfied with the result. “What’s happened in the past can’t be changed. Let’s move forward—” The words fused together in Alex’s throat. He clenched a fist and forced himself to continue. “I’ve received news that made me realize that I misjudged what happened with Alice. I misconstrued what happened between the two of you.”

  “Is that why my vowels were returned to me?” The smirk on his face didn’t hide the flash of anguish in his eyes. “You think that gesture puts everything to rights?”

  “No.” He owed Lord Paul more than a curt reply, but it was damned difficult. “The deed to Willow House will be returned to you by the end of the day.”

  “My, my, someone’s getting their house in order. Unfortunately, you always did come to parties late.” The morning sun lent a malevolent expression to Lord Paul’s face. “I asked your wife to come and live with me the other night at Lady Barrington’s. We were discussing the details this morning.”

  “I don’t believe you.” To even consider such a revolting outcome made every nerve in his body stand at attention. He’d fight to the bitter end and still not give her up.

  “Do everyone a favor and petition Parliament for a divorce. I’ll marry her and give her the life she’s always wanted. I’ll even help by telling everyone she’s my lover. With both our fathers’ ducal lineage, we’ll withstand any scandal.” His eyes bored into Alex’s with a gravity seldom seen. “Within two years, we’ll be on top of the social world, any disgrace long forgotten.”

  The solemn sincerity in his face caused an anger to explode inside Alex. “We’ll meet in hell first before I’ll allow that to happen. Perhaps we should just settle this on a field somewhere.”

  “As you taught me earlier, I’d much rather see you suffer long and hard.” Lord Paul pulled his gloves tight.

  “If you think I’ll allow you close to my wife, you have a bed in Bedlam waiting for you.”

  “Watch me.” Lord Paul allowed his white gelding to canter down the path. With a quick pull on the reins, he reeled the horse around and returned to face Alex. “When you started down this path, you dug my grave. I hope you dug another. You’ll need it more than me.” With a tip of his hat, Lord Paul was gone from Alex’s sight.

  The filth of Lord Paul’s words washed over him. He let out the breath he was holding. God, what if there was a kernel of truth in his statement? He didn’t want to think of the consequences if Claire wanted a life with Lord Paul.

  * * *

  Claire brought Hermes to an abrupt stop, took a deep breath, and hid in a small grove of trees. Her life had fallen into a well of emptiness. One man wanted her for a lover. Another had wanted her as a wife, as long as she served her purpose in avenging a wrong done to his family. For her own preservation, she had to escape Lord Paul and not yield to the tears that demanded release.

  The sound of the chirping birds brought a moment’s diversion before she accepted the inevitable truth. There was no denying it: She loved Alex and would never be free from wanting him. The loneliness threatened to swallow her whole.

  Her chest tightened, and a small sob escaped. She had a difficult time catching her breath. One sob turned into another. The perfidious things turned into hiccups, and her whole world fell into the absurd. One last desperate sob dared to escape from inside before turning into an anguished, pitiful laugh. The sorrowful sound garnered more laughs until she found herself in a fit of hysterical laughter. She bent over Hermes in an attempt to lessen the pain in her chest. Unable to control her emotions, she slid off the horse and collapsed in a heap on the short grass.

  When she moved to stand, the sound of Alex’s voice startled her. “Claire, what in bloody hell are you doing?”

  “Alex?” Where had he come from? She wiped the tears from her face with her gloves. The soft leather provided little comfort. In her haste to stand, her boot caught on the edge of her riding habit, and she stumbled. Falling face first, Claire waited for the hard impact of the ground that never came. Instead, she found herself in his arms. Her world righted itself as she felt the safety of his embrace. It was heaven until she looked at his face.

  His gaze raked up and down her body before it shifted to her eyes. His face turned red, darkening the bruises on his left cheek. Claire automatically stepped away.

  “Are you considering his offer?” His eyes flashed like the fury of an unleashed storm.

  “Who?”

  “Lord Paul.” His nostrils flared, and his body stiffened. “I will not give you a divorce.”

  “No. I would never dishonor you or our families in that way.” All of her emotions swirled in an anger that made their confrontation at Pemhill look tame. “It’s inexcusable to accuse me of behavior that is indicative of you.”

  Momentarily stunned, Alex locked eyes with hers. “What are you referring to, madam?”

  Claire bristled with indignation. “Lying, cheating, conniving … Need I go on? Our marriage is based upon nothing but your deception and need for retribution.”

  A shadow of alarm crossed his face, and his demeanor calmed. Slowly, he approached her.

  “Is that what you think? Everything at Pemhill was dishonest?” His voice was eerily quiet.

  Her vexation scattered like a covey of partridges when set upon by a huntsman. Words and thoughts tumbled from her lips. “Those few weeks at Pemhill were my dream come true. I so wanted that life.” She gave a stilted laugh to keep her tears from betraying her anguish.

  He shook his head, denying her words. “Claire, listen to me. You misunderstood.”

  “I trusted you with so much. Pieces of my soul and heart I gave to you and no one else.” She swallowed. The birds sang as if encouraging her to continue. “Secrets I told no one but you because…” I love you. She couldn’t say it. Wary, she let her voice trail to nothing. “It mattered little. All you wanted was to ruin Lord Paul.”

  At Pemhill, she had never wanted to share so much of herself with anyone before, and look what she had received for her efforts. She was married to a man who had orchestrated their entire betrothal and marriage without her knowing the truth. At least she’d kept some of her secrets, the ones too shameful to share.

  “I don’t know what this is between us anymore.” She took a deep breath so she could finish. “I thought I knew, but now with the revelations…”

  He recoiled slightly, as if her words had truly hurt him. “Claire, stop.”

  With every ounce of strength she possessed, she looked into his ey
es. “I was only important to you as a weapon to use against your enemy. If you desired our marriage to build your landholdings and fortune, I could have accepted your reasons.” She sniffled even though it was unladylike. “People of our class marry for those arrangements all the time.” She grimaced and blinked so the tears would subside. “I was such a ninny. I thought our life was more than financial considerations. It’s even worse. Our marriage is based upon hate and revenge.”

  “My actions were never meant to hurt you.” His hand cupped her cheek. “At Pemhill, we were building our life. We were working on our future and the future of our family. Weren’t you happy?” The low cadence of his voice coaxed her nearer.

  “Yes, but for how long?” Her blood pounded while her face heated. “How many times have I trusted other men and lost?” She closed her eyes and shook her head in an effort to shed her confusion and humiliation. “Always before, I managed to make myself whole when I was torn apart. I don’t know if I can endure it this time.”

  He brought his face closer to hers, blocking everything from sight except the intensity of his eyes. “Please, I’m going mad. I can’t sleep or think anymore. Why were you with him?” His voice faded, losing its edge.

  “I turned around and Lord Paul was there. Ask Charles if you don’t believe me.” As a fresh wave of courage bolstered her resolve, Claire stepped aside. “He’s playing you, and you’re allowing it.”

  “You’re wrong. If I believed him, I wouldn’t be here.” He ran his hand over his face and grimaced when he touched the bruises.

  Involuntarily she lifted her hand to offer comfort, then drew back. “Does it hurt?”

  He gave a laugh, the humor never reaching his eyes. “That’s not what causes me pain.” After a long pause, during which he seemed to wrestle with his self-control, he spoke in an odd but gentle tone, as if he were coaxing a child. “Let’s go back to Langham Hall and pack. I want to take you home.”

  His simple request unleashed the frustration that had lodged itself within her feelings of helplessness. “Do you hear yourself? Never once have you tried to explain your actions or apologize for what you have done. You cannot see the error of your ways. Are you so arrogant to think I’ll return to Pemhill because of what you want?” She tried to swallow her annoyance, to stay civil, but it refused to desert her. “I don’t know what I want anymore. But I’m going to try and find it here in London.”