How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal)

by Reid, Stacy

  He really did not want to lose her friendship.

  …

  Evie rushed from the room, her stomach clenched tight with nausea, her breath rasping in her aching throat. How naive she was in the art of passion and matters of the heart. The memory of how Richard had loved her had furious heat flushing her entire body. She could not wipe the thoughts of their night together from her mind. And the fact he would be speaking with Lady Honoria’s father soon.

  In a daze, Evie made herself presentable, and less than half an hour later descended the stairs.

  Emily was waiting on the bottom steps, a sad smile on her face.

  “Papa told me you must leave. Will you be coming back, Lady Evie?”

  She stooped and ruffled the girl’s hair before pressing a kiss to her gently rounded cheek. “Yes, I will, we shall be great friends, you and me. If you will have me to tea tomorrow, I would love to call upon you. Or perhaps you will allow me to send a carriage for you?”

  Emily beamed, though a curl of some unnamed emotion lingered in her gaze. It pained Evie’s heart to see it, and she vowed to have the children to her house, even if Mamma threw a hysterical fit. She would have to speak with Papa and gain his support and approval. In short order, Evie bid farewell to each of the children and was seated in the carriage on her way to Rosette Park.

  Oh, what am I to do?

  The panic clawing at her insides was unwelcomed. When she’d given herself to Richard last night, she had been helpless against the feelings stirring within her soul. She had no regrets, but she could not believe he would take the gift of her body and then offer for another the very day after. He’d not said it, but she had seen the cool knowledge in his eyes. The libertine! She could not believe it of his honor. Surely he couldn’t be so callous and so dreadfully stubborn. As he’d loved her for the night, the knowledge he cared for her deeply had bloomed and lodged itself in her heart, and she’d felt such sweet hope. And he would give up everything because of an unreasonable fear.

  She settled her hand across her stomach. And then there could be a child… Dear lord.

  The wave of pain gave way to blinding anger. Her thoughts churned with fury, and by the time she arrived at Rosette Park, her mind had been decided.

  He would not court and marry another.

  The butler opened the door at her knock, and Adel rushed from the parlor to greet her.

  “Evie! What has happened, you look frightfully pale.”

  She was ushered into the parlor, and Adel rang for tea. Evie moved to stand by the window, watching the rain as it fell over the land.

  “Evie, what is it? Oh, I should have come for you last night when I got Westfall’s note. What did the wretch do?”

  A sob hiccupped from her, and she faced her friend. “I gave him my virtue.”

  Adel gasped. “Oh, Evie.”

  She swallowed. “I did it with no expectations of an offer. I knew his heart was against marriage, and I simply wanted to feel how I know no other man but Richard would ever make me feel. At least that was what I convinced myself.”

  Adel frowned. “Then why do you look as if your heart has been irrevocably shattered?”

  The breath sawed from Evie’s throat. “He plans to speak with Lady Honoria’s father, who is on the way to Kencourt with his countess and daughter. I cannot escape that it is not marriage he is averse to, but a union to me. I willfully deluded myself to believe his distaste was for matrimony itself…but he really would see us divided forever despite the palpable caring he has for me,” she said on a sob. “He believes I am of such a weak character I would wilt under society’s derision if we married. Oh, Adel, I feel as if I am about to shatter into a thousand pieces and nothing will put me back together.”

  “I cannot believe such a thing of Westfall. It is clear to me he admires you very much.”

  Evie straightened her shoulders. “I’ll not allow it.”

  Adel blinked. “Allow what?”

  “He will not marry another. I may be with child, and he only said I should inform him if that is the outcome. I am left to assume he will take care of me if I am…”

  Adel gaped. “As his mistress or as his wife?”

  “Was there any doubt as to the scoundrel’s meaning? It was not an offer of marriage,” she said furiously.

  “Oh, Evie, you must inform your father.”

  “No, I’ve always been so dutiful and proper, to tell Papa of my circumstances would more than likely induce a stroke. I shall handle this myself.”

  Her friend’s face blanked. “I fear I need enlightenment.”

  Evie sought to steady her voice as she answered, “You are the Duchess of Wolverton. I need you to wield your influence…with your husband’s aid, if needs be, to help me.”

  “Done,” a cool, authoritative voice said from behind.

  They spun around to see the duke lounging in the doorway. Mortified heat flushed through Evie’s entire body. Oh, dear Lord. He had heard her shameful confession.

  “Edmond, we’d not heard the door open,” Adel said with a glare. “You did not knock, my love.”

  He seemed undismayed. “You will forgive my intrusion. I happened to overhear the circumstances that prevented you from returning to us last night. What is it that you need, Lady Evelyn? I will see it done.”

  Before her stood a man certain of his power and privilege, and his warm sincerity instead of damning judgment soothed the painful and turbulent ache in her heart.

  “I desire a special license bearing the names of Lord Westfall and myself, an unmarked but comfortable carriage with a coachman and footmen who will only obey my orders, a pistol, and the marquess delivered to said carriage.”

  Adel’s mouth fell open in shock, and amusement leaped into the duke’s eyes.

  “Done,” he drawled with an evident measure of satisfaction.

  “Oh dear,” said Adel, her hands fluttering to her throat.

  Evie smiled. Oh dear, indeed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Richard glanced through the window into the torrential downpour washing away the stench and grime of the day. He downed the brandy he had been nursing and stubbed the cheroot out on an ashtray. He felt on edge, discomfited, and the source of his discontent could no longer be ignored. Evie. It had been two days since she had departed his estate, and in that time, he doubted he’d gotten more than a couple of hours’ sleep. He’d tried to forget all his troubles by working, yet his mind was still consumed with her. Yesterday she had sent a carriage for his daughter to have tea with her at Rosette Park, and Emily and the children had bundled themselves off to see her. Instead of working like he’d planned, his thoughts had been consumed with everything about Evie—her laughter, the way she had romped with the children, the sweet piquancy of her kisses, hell, she had tasted like sin and all that was forbidden. And he had been such a fool for taking a bite of her fruit.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a stiff wind blew through the partially open windows in the library. He peered into the black, starless sky. Grateful the rain had eased to a slight drizzle, he quickly exited the library and headed outside through the side doors. Once in the gardens, he inhaled the cold, crisp air into his lungs.

  He walked along the puddled, beaten path, thinking about his recent decisions and what he would need to do to proceed in securing his daughter’s happiness, and dare he admit it, his own. Lord Ashford had arrived less than an hour after Evie’s departure, and even before they had descended on Kencourt Manor, Richard had known he would never offer for Honoria.

  Even if he had not seduced Evie, he would have ceased correspondence with Lord Ashford. Lady Honoria was not the right fit for his muddled family. The distaste on her face as she had studied his children had filled him with cold disgust. She had been unable to hide her shock at the realization they all resided with him. Richard had been amused at the unruffled pretense she had tried to assume. She’d even had the gall to enquire if he would ship them away to an orphanage or boarding s
chool soon. Despite Ashford recently inheriting the earldom from his father’s passing, their distinction in society was far below Evie and her family. Yet to Evie’s credit she was far less concerned than Lady Honoria with society’s opinion. After luncheon, he had informed Ashford he had wasted his trip, and the following morning their party had once again departed to London.

  He supposed he would have to continue his reluctant hunt for a wife. Yet…he could do nothing until he knew if he had gotten Evie with child. A surge of possessiveness went through him at the thought of her carrying his baby. Christ. He scrubbed a hand over his face, ruefully admitting he was in a bind.

  What was he to do about Evie? It seemed a question he had been asking himself for six long years. It was about time he found the blasted answer to it.

  An unusual sound in the dark had Richard slowing his steps, canting his head to one side and listening. He heard nothing, yet a warning signal prickled over his skin. After a few seconds, he moved forward with stealth, flaring his senses.

  Two shadows suddenly lurched at him. His reaction swift and brutal, he slammed his elbow into one of their faces, gripped the other into a hip lock, and threw him. Before he could take stock of the situation, a body slammed into him from behind, propelling him forward. He managed to find purchase on the wet grass, but before he could retaliate, a blow bore him to the ground. Instinct warned him to stay still, to pretend as if he had been knocked out while he catalogued the situation.

  The children had remained at Rosette Park, and would not return to Kencourt Manor until tomorrow, so he had no need to worry about their safety. Most of his staff were able bodied men, well able to defend their lives if necessary. His butler and valet were both men he had met in the war and could be quite merciless when needed.

  Two men flanked either side of him and hauled him up, trying to lift his body and carry him away from his estate.

  Interesting.

  His mind shifted through a host of possibilities, thinking which of his enemies would be so bold. He listened to the footfalls traveling with him and counted at least four men. His lips curved. They should have sent more men to take him. A subtle tension invaded his limbs as he prepared to twist from his captors and reach for the knife hidden in his boot, then one of the men spoke.

  “We have him, Your Grace. We didn’t have to break into the library. He was already outside.”

  Your Grace?

  “Deliver him to the carriage, and be careful. The marquess is one of London’s most ruthless men, he will not be pleased when he comes to.”

  Wolverton? What the hell was going on? Why would one of his closest friends be orchestrating his capture? Curious to see where this scenario was heading, Richard remained a dead weight and allowed them to grunt and carry him to a carriage. He was pushed inside, the door slammed, and then it rattled into motion.

  Her scent of roses and jasmine invaded his lungs before he saw Evie. The acute pleasure of being near her again so soon had his heart stirring to a faster rhythm, and a whisper of desire floated through his veins. Richard pushed himself up and settled against the squab.

  “What errant nonsense is this?”

  …

  The sight of Richard filled Evie with a rush of pain. Gritting her teeth against the emotions, she took a deep breath to steady her courage. No welcoming warmth lit his expression. His eyes narrowed, and in the barely-there light in the carriage, he appeared a bit too sinister for comfort.

  “Evie, what is the meaning of this?”

  She firmed her shoulders and resolve. “I believe it is evident. You are being kidnapped,” she said smoothly. “We are bound for the moors of Scotland to an estate of His Grace’s. A priest will be waiting, along with a few men to persuade your compliance.”

  “Surely you jest?”

  “I will not allow you to marry another when I may even now be carrying your child.” A blush warmed her face as desire flamed in his eyes. “Nor will I wait in vain for you to seize upon the clear affection we feel for each other. You would see us divided forever because of your unjust fears for my reputation.”

  “I seem to recall mentioning I have no desire to wed,” he murmured, an undertone of menace in his voice that decidedly unsettled her.

  “Yet you have Lord Ashford and his daughter at your home, expecting such an announcement soon.” Evie firmed her lips to prevent their trembling. She had known he would not take her actions lightly. “We are heading to Scotland. However, I would much prefer a wedding surrounded by my family and friends. I’ll not trouble my father and brother to defend my honor, for surely they would challenge you to a duel, and I am certain you would trounce them.”

  “Ah…so you are obliged to defend your own honor?”

  It was impossible to restrain the tremor of uncertainty that quivered through her. “Yes.”

  “You gave me that honor willingly, you gave it to me wet and tight, with lustful cries for more, and without any promises made by me.”

  Her mortified gasp echoed in the carriage. “Perhaps I would be less incensed, less determined, if you’d not acted the scoundrel, taken what I offered with love, and then intended to marry another!”

  He stiffened. “With love?”

  She canted her head to one side. “Yes…with love.”

  Something powerful flared in the depth of his amber eyes. For a frightful moment, she thought it might be hope and returned sentiment. The warmth fled, and then he seemed so austere and unforgiving. “And if I refuse your demands?”

  She waved toward the folds of her cloak. “Perhaps I have a pistol to ensure your compliance.”

  His lips twitched, and a disturbing and predatory light flared in the depths of his eyes. “So, you will march me to the altar with a gun, hmm?”

  “If I must.”

  Richard slid his unforgiving gaze over her. “I’m not marrying Lady Honoria.”

  Evie stared at him in shock. He’d changed his intentions? Why? When? Before she could respond to his incredible assertion, a loud grinding sound echoed, and the carriage lurched forward in a violent motion. She was heaved from her seat. Richard grabbed her, holding her close in a protective circle as the carriage shuddered to stop.

  “Dear heavens, what has happened?”

  “Stay here.” He eased her from him, pushed the door open, and disappeared into the darkness.

  Evie peered outside, unable to see anything. Murmurings filtered inside, and she recognized Richard’s and the coachman’s voice. The door was wrenched open and slammed shut, raw curses spilling from Richard’s lips.

  “Why do you snarl like an angry beast?”

  “The axle of our carriage is broken, and Kencourt Manor is ten minutes away, but it is raining heavily, and the roads are mud logged.”

  “I—”

  Her words tapered off as he made a sharp slashing motion with his hand.

  “There is a procession less than a half mile away, several carriages, and without a doubt, they will stop to render aid. What do you think, Evie, will happen when we are found alone?”

  Oh, dear Lord. For precious moments, her mind blanked at the dire implications. I’ll not survive it. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes, at least three carriages. I can see the lantern lights atop them.”

  “Good heavens!”

  “Was this your plan?”

  Her heart pounded, and it was just too much to think about the implications of being found by anyone. “I daresay it is even beyond my wiles to summon the rains and allow for an axle to break on the carriage.” Evie cleared her throat. “Is there a chance they may pass us?”

  He scowled, rather blackly. “We are broken down in the middle of the bloody road. No, there is no chance. I did not want this for you.”

  The chilly finality in his tone had her stomach pitching.

  She stared at him with ill-concealed alarm. “Want what for me?”

  “Scandal, ignominy,” he said flatly.

  Her heart tripped within her chest. Evie
closed her eyes, wondering if he could hear the cracking of her heart. “Even if we’d gotten to Scotland, you wouldn’t have married me,” she said faintly.

  “No.”

  Certainly, she was about to disintegrate into a thousand pieces. “I cannot believe it of you.”

  “What in God’s name were you thinking? Acting with such recklessness?”

  The scandal would be horrifying. Her breath rasped, and her heart pounded. She had gambled everything and lost. “I’m ruined, and you would easily abandon me to such a fate,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “Do you believe I should marry you because someone from our society may see us together?”

  “We are not just together. It’s after midnight.” Her throat clogged with tears. “The scandal will be horrifying, Richard.”

  His mien remained cold and dispassionate, and her heart broke even more.

  “Do you hold any affections for me at all? Do you possess even a morsel of love for me, Richard?”

  “Do I love you?”

  “Yes.” She tilted her head defiantly. “Do you?” she asked, finally unafraid and unashamed to ask the question her heart had long desired to know.

  His handsome face twisted with angry regret. “From the moment I met you, Evie, you ensnared my heart and my fucking soul without me being aware of it.”

  A lone tear spilled over. “Then why will you not marry me?” she asked hoarsely. “I now stand on the brink of ruin and complete disgrace. We both know what will happen the second those carriages arrive and this news travels to town. Everyone will treat me as if I am a pariah and I will be cut by those of our society.”

  He leaned forward, his elbows pressing into his thighs, his eyes roaming her face. “That heartbreak you feel now, Evie, the hollowness rising inside as you imagine being vilified by all you love, imagine being torn from your family and friends, and not briefly, but for months, years, possible permanent estrangement. The loss of hope that you feel about not belonging, being cut at balls, and watching the invitations to society’s events dwindle…that is what you will always endure being married to a man like me. I’ve taken the lives of men, I walk and drink with people who are the dregs of this world, the scum, the nobodies. The dirt and filth I deal with will be transferred to you. Being caught in this carriage with me is a scandal that will be forgotten in a few months, which will be swept aside like ashes in the wind when you’re married to someone with distinction, a title, and an impeccable reputation. I will never pander to the whims of a cruel and indifferent society, bowing and living my life based on their opinions. I’ve long lived by my own code, and because I’ll not change, I will always be resented by polite society.”