Devil’s eyes narrowed. “Then perhaps you should take your money elsewhere.”
“I have business here.” Rising tension had the crowd shifting restlessly, men and women jockeying for a position around the table. It wasn’t often they got to witness a lord and the devil squaring off.
“Shall we take your business back to my office? I do believe you would be more comfortable there.”
“I doubt that,” Marcus said, tossing down his cards and scooping up his glass. “But, please, lead the way.”
Devil signaled to Finn. The suddenly sober Irishman pushed back his chair and fell into step behind Marcus.
Devil led the way back to his office, circling the bar and pushing through the door. Stepping behind his desk, he considered Eddington. “How’s my wife?”
“What do you care?”
Marcus felt the cool press of metal behind his ear a moment before the gun cocked.
“Answer the man’s question,” Finn growled, his patience for his lordship at an end.
“You should know that kind of threat only works on a man who has something to live for,” Marcus said.
Devil locked eyes with Eddington. The man hadn’t so much as flinched, or shown a moment’s hesitation walking into his office. Most men would be near to wetting themselves by now.
Devil nodded to Finn who removed the pistol. “I do hope you take more care with my wife’s person than you do your own.”
“I wasn’t being flippant.” Marcus paused and reconsidered. “OK, maybe I was, but the question still stands. Why do you care?”
“Make no mistake. I care a great deal about my wife,” Devil growled.
“Grown a tender for your wife, have you?” Marcus sneered, planting his hands on Devil’s desk. “Was that before or after you kidnapped her and left her to be raped?”
“She told you.”
“God knows she needed to tell someone, and she had nowhere else to go. You made sure of that.” The irony of Marcus being anyone’s savior was not lost on him.
Devil’s jaw clenched, and behind Eddington, Finn shifted uneasily. “Where is she now?”
“Probably packing.”
“What?”
“You needn’t worry. Soon she will no longer be your responsibility.”
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
“I’m not sure I should ruin the surprise, or deny Jacqueline the pleasure of being the one to tell you herself, but your wife will be seeking an annulment.”
Devil drew back as if slapped. “On what grounds?”
“I’m sure she’ll think of something.”
Devil told himself not to worry. An annulment would take time. He could still clean up this mess with Carver and then reconcile with his wife. “You said she’s packing. Where is she going? Back to her father’s?” He wanted—needed—to know she was safe.
“Temporarily,” Marcus said, looking at Devil quizzically. He had expected relief, not this curious need for more information. “Just until she and Gates can be married.”
“WHAT?” Devil’s roar echoed around the room.
Finn flinched and resisted the urge to duck his head.
“What did you say?” Devil swallowed his rage.
“Henry Gates, the Earl of Arlington’s son—”
“I know who he is,” Devil growled.
“He called on Jacqueline. It’s my understanding he offered to help your wife annul your marriage and proposed—all within the same breath, I believe.”
Marcus didn’t care for Gates. The two traveled in vastly different circles, the future earl considering himself morally superior to most men. But that wasn’t what bothered Marcus. Perhaps it was the way the young man always seemed perfectly positioned to take advantage of an opportunity, such as Jacqueline, for instance, as the man certainly seemed intent on doing.
“The annulment was Gates’ idea?” The notion went a long way toward calming Devil’s racing heart.
“I assume.” Marcus decided he was better off not telling Devil of his own offer to Jacqueline. The man did not seem to be handling the news well.
Devil had spent the past three days making a target of himself, all with the idea that when this was over he would seek out his wife and find some way to make it all up to her. He had convinced himself that whatever he felt for her was mutual. But perhaps he was mistaken.
“What do you want to do?” Finn asked from over Eddington’s shoulder.
Devil heaved a sigh. Running a hand through his hair, he scratched at his head. He was exhausted. He was spending all of his time in Devil’s Acre, involving himself in all aspects of his business in an effort to be more visible.
When he did sleep, it was on the couch in his office. He told himself it was for convenience, but the truth of the matter was he didn’t want to spend another night alone in his bed. His sheets still smelled of their lovemaking and the pillows of his wife.
“We can’t stop now.” They’d invested too much time into this plan. Carver had to be close; it was just a matter of time before he grew bold enough, or impatient, and struck.
“We don’t have to,” Finn said. “You can still patch things up with Lady J.”
“No, it’s better if people believe we are at odds. She’s safer this way.”
“What the bloody hell are you going on about?” Marcus asked. “If Jacqueline is in danger, I should know. She should know!”
Devil’s eyes narrowed. “My wife doesn’t need to know anything.”
“You never learn, do you?” Marcus eyed Devil. The man stood behind his desk, his face set. “After everything that’s happened…”
“It’s because of everything that’s happened!” Devil said. He’d failed Jacqueline once. He wouldn’t fail her again. “I’m trying to protect her.”
“A noble notion, to be sure, but you underestimate your wife. I’ve known her less time, and less intimately, and even I know Jacqueline would resent you for it.”
“That’s a risk I’ll have to take.” Devil had to believe that the end justified the means.
“Well, I won’t,” Marcus said, turning to go. Let them try to stop him. Something was going on, and Jacqueline had a right to know.
“Carver is still alive…”
Marcus froze. Carver? Wasn’t Carver the man who…
Marcus turned about slowly, the full horror of what Devil just told him leaving him cold. “I thought he was dead.”
“So did I.” It was a mistake Devil was eager to rectify.
“How?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters now is finding the bastard.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I have it on good authority the man is coming for me.”
“So you’re just sitting around waiting?”
Devil’s eyes narrowed. “No, I have men out looking.” So far, they’d turned up nothing. No one had seen Carver in weeks, and Stubs had stopped talking.
“Jacqueline has to know.”
“No.” Devil’s voice was hard.
“You can’t—”
“Give me two more days.” Already, Devil knew he couldn’t keep this up. If Carver didn’t do something soon, Devil would.
“If you haven’t found him yet, chances are you won’t find him at all.” Good God, Marcus wondered, how was he supposed to keep this from Jacqueline?
“I’ll find him.”
“And if you don’t?”
“I’ll tell Jac.” Devil never intended otherwise, but he wanted to deliver the news along with the man’s head. He never wanted his wife to feel another moment of fear.
Marcus studied Devil, and the two men squared off. They both believed they were acting in Jacqueline’s best interest. Unfortunately, there was no way to know for sure until it was too late. If Marcus was right, Jacqueline would resent them both, and he could lose a good friend. But if Devil was right, and the man was able to take care of Carver without Jacqueline being the wiser—well, it would save her t
he pain of knowing the man was still alive. Marcus would spare her the pain, if he could.
“Two days, and then I tell Jacqueline everything.”
Devil nodded. “Can you stop her from going back to her father’s?”
Marcus shook his head. “Not without telling her why.”
“She’ll be just as safe there as with Eddington,” Finn put in.
Strangely enough, Devil preferred his wife remain with Eddington. For one, the man felt more like an ally.
“I could try to delay things,” Marcus offered. In truth, he didn’t want to see Jacqueline leave anymore than Devil did. He rather enjoyed having someone to come home to, even if it was another man’s wife.
“No,” Devil shook his head. “Finn’s right. She’ll be safe with her father. Besides, word of the move is bound to get out and only add distance between the two of us.”
“You really are trying to protect her,” Marcus said, amazed. It would seem the devil had a heart after all.
“She’s my wife,” Devil said. And he would do anything for her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jacqueline felt the weight of her past and the failure of her marriage as she walked up to her father’s townhouse. For twenty-two years, this had been home.
Today did not feel like a homecoming.
Beside her, Henry lifted the lion-shaped knocker.
From within, the familiar cadence of Benson’s footsteps could be heard as the butler crossed the marble foyer floor. A moment later and the door swung open.
“Lady Jacqueline!” Benson exclaimed, a smile brightening his face. “It’s lovely to see you.”
“Hello, Benson. Is my father at home?” Jacqueline smiled. She should have known Benson would have been happy to see her.
“Yes, my lady,” Benson bowed. “Mr. Gates.”
“Benson.” His hand on the small of her back, Henry guided Jacqueline over the threshold.
“Shall I inform his lordship you are here?” Benson asked. The entire staff was well aware of the circumstances surrounding Lady Jacqueline’s departure. The house had been silent as a tomb since her ladyship left, the earl locking himself in his study and refusing to come out.
“No, thank you. I’ll see to it myself.” What Jacqueline didn’t say was that she feared her father might not agree to see her if given warning of her arrival.
“Shall I come with you?” Henry asked, handing off his coat to a waiting footman.
Jacqueline glanced at the door to her father’s study. “Would you mind terribly waiting in the library. at least until I’ve had a chance to have a few words with my father?”
“Of course not,” Henry said, taking Jacqueline’s hand and pressing a quick kiss to the back of her fingers.
Jacqueline suffered the familiarity. It seemed now that she’d agreed to marry him, Henry couldn’t keep from touching her. Ever since his arrival that afternoon, he’d constantly had a hand on her. It was considered acceptable from a man she’d agreed to marry, and she realized she had best get used to it.
“If you’ll follow me, sir,” Benson stepped forward and indicated the way to the library. “I shall have tea brought for the both of you.”
“Thank you, Benson.” Jacqueline watched and waited until both men disappeared into the library.
Alone in the foyer, Jacqueline walked slowly toward her father’s study. The door was closed, symbolic of their relationship. Had she ever really known her father? He loved her, to be sure. But he resented her, and that resentment eclipsed all other emotion.
“Come.”
Jacqueline didn’t realize she’d knocked until her father answered. With hands that shook, she opened the door and stepped inside.
Nothing had changed. The study was as she remembered it, the dark wood and worn leather surrounding her father with masculine grace. He sat behind his desk, head bent over the papers he was reading. There was a glass of brandy at his elbow, and the bottle stood near at hand.
She hadn’t been gone that long, and nothing had changed—except everything.
“Hello, Papa.”
Lord John’s head snapped up.
Father and daughter stared at each other across the room.
“What do you want?”
“I…I…” Jacqueline gripped her fingers. “I want to come home.”
Lord John slowly sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “That husband of yours toss you out?”
Jacqueline’s chin went up. “I left him.”
Lord John’s heart clenched at the gesture. Jacqueline’s mother used to look at him the same way.
“I’m getting an annulment,” Jacqueline explained. “I was hoping you would help me, and that I could come home.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Why would you lie?” Jacqueline hadn’t meant to confront her father, not yet.
Lord John’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Henry accompanied me today; he told me about his proposal. How could you, Papa? How could you lie to him? To me?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“By lying?”
“By doing what was necessary. Gates isn’t good enough for you, girl.” Lord John stood, planting his hands on his desk. “He was never going to be good enough for you.”
“He’s better than nothing!” Better than marrying the man who kidnapped me, Jacqueline thought.
“Nothing? Is that what your life here was, nothing?” Lord John’s voice rose. “I gave you everything! A beautiful home, expensive gowns, the best governess that money could buy, and you would leave it all to marry that…that…milquetoast of a man!”
“What about love? Family? Children?” Jacqueline could still remember the light in Catherine’s eyes as the woman held her son. “You would throw away my chance at happiness, just to keep me here.”
“I didn’t want to lose you!” Lord John shouted. “You are all I have left!”
Jacqueline blinked, her mouth snapping shut.
Lord John’s chest heaved as he panted. “After your mother…you’re all I have left.”
“I’m nothing more than a painful reminder, and you hate me for taking her away from you,” Jacqueline whispered, giving voice to the painful truth.
“I don’t hate you,” Lord John said, pain making his voice tight. “I could never hate the one piece of her I have left.”
“I’m more than just a piece of my mother.” Jacqueline ached for the mother’s love she had never known but resented being held up against the memory of a woman she had never met.
Lord John stared at his daughter, and for the first time forced himself to note the differences. Jacqueline’s hair was darker, thicker, and curled at the ends. Her eyes were hazel, more like his than her mother’s, and she stood taller and fuller of figure.
But the chin, the chin was all Ann.
“You look so much like she did on the day I married her.”
Jacqueline was quiet. This was the first time her father spoke of her mother without the usual anger coloring his words.
“After you were born, I held the two of you in my arms as the life bled out of her. She stared at your face as she died. You were the one thing that mattered most to her, and she begged me to take care of you. I haven’t done a very good job.”
“Papa—”
“I loved your mother from the first moment I saw her. I can still remember it. I was at a ball, dragged there by a friend chasing after some skirt, and there she was. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the room, but there was something about her—a vitality.”
Lord John looked away from his daughter, his gaze falling on the glass of brandy. But he didn’t pick it up. There had been enough of that to last a lifetime.
“Your mother completed some piece of me, and when she died, it died, too. And every time I look at you, I see what’s missing.
“I’m sorry, Papa.” Jacqueline’s heart broke, for herself, for her father, for the things she couldn’t change
.
Lord John circled his desk and tentatively took his daughter into his arms. “It’s not your fault,” he said, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “I know I’ve blamed you, and I was wrong. I always thought I was a strong man, but I’m weak and I broke under the weight of my grief.”
“I can’t bring her back,” Jacqueline said quietly. “But maybe I could help you to miss her a little less.”
“If I have you, that’s all that matters.” Lord John held his daughter, giving her a final squeeze before stepping back. Staring down into her face, he asked, “Now, what’s this about your getting an annulment?”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?” Henry asked, handing Jacqueline up into her father’s carriage.
“I’ll be fine.” Jacqueline smiled down at Henry. The meeting with her father had gone well, better than expected. While he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of her getting an annulment only to turn around and marry again, he was willing to grant that it was the best option available.
Her father had echoed Marcus’ sentiments almost exactly.
“You don’t have to marry Gates,” Lord John told his daughter after her explanation. “I will help you secure an annulment. After that, you can stay here.”
“I can’t remain in London,” Jacqueline said quietly. “Not unless I marry.”
“Perhaps it’s time we take on traveling,” Lord John suggested, a bit desperate at the idea of reconciling with his daughter, only to lose her again. “We can take a trip to the Continent; you’ve always wanted to see Egypt.”
Jacqueline’s heart lightened. She was sitting beside her father, the two of them taking tea. There was a tentative peace between them, this one fragile with the possibility of permanence.
“And then what?” she asked, ever the pragmatist. She was notorious, and news of her annulment was unlikely to help. “We can’t stay away forever; eventually we will have to return.” Hesitantly, she covered her father’s hand with her own. “I’m not leaving you,” she said, addressing the crux of her father’s fear.
Lord John had smiled, turning his hand over to grasp his daughter’s fingers.
The Bride of Devil's Acre Page 19
