Kim’s face burned with humiliation.
The other woman’s eyes twinkled.
“Does he speak of me?” the woman said. “I’m Miss Arrah Page.”
Kim hadn’t needed to know the name.
Astlen urged Miss Page to the door. “Let’s go.”
Kim didn’t wait to see more. She simply turned and strolled from the house as quickly as possible.
She heard Astlen shout her name as she made it out the door, but she didn’t look back.
She walked blindly across the city. Tears clouded her eyes. She had no clue where she was going, but she felt terribly lost and hurt in a way that felt as though she’d never heal.
* * *
“Your wife was just here,” Astlen said.
James kept his back turned to the door and his eyes shut. He’d drank far more than any man should last evening. Hearing Astlen’s voice made him bury his head in his pillow farther. “Tell her I still need time alone.”
“She doesn’t believe you were alone,” Astlen said. “She was present when I was escorting Arrah to the door.”
James stiffened, and his eyes shot open. His first urge was to get up and run out to get his wife. To tell her what happened and ask for her understanding.
But then he thought some more and settled back into the sheets. This was exactly what he needed, a way to put distance between them. He hadn’t meant for her to be hurt, but since she already was…
His gut turned with protest. “What happened?” His throat burned slightly.
“Arrah was Arrah,” Astlen said. “She teased your wife until the lady dashed from the house.”
That got James up.
Slowly.
He couldn’t allow Kim to be upset enough to run from a house. He was not that cruel of a man and even if he were, he could never be cruel to Kim.
“What happened when Arrah came in here?” Astlen said. “When I dismissed her from my bed, I thought she’d simply leave. I should have known better than to mention you were here at all.”
It had all happened minutes before Astlen burst into his room. James had heard doors being opened and shut before finally the one that led to his had cracked.
Arrah had called out to him.
“I told her to go away,” James said, mostly because he was tired and his head ached, but also because he didn’t want her near him. “She, of course, didn’t listen and came farther into the room.”
“Did you take what she offered?” Astlen asked.
James turned his head and looked Astlen. “She got in my bed and said I looked cold. She offered to warm me.”
∫ ∫ ∫
4 2
“So,” Astlen began. “Arrah got in bed, said you looked cold, and offered to warm you. What happened?”
James grunted. “I asked her if hell had frozen over, for if it had not, then I was confident that I was not, in fact, that cold.”
Astlen grinned and then chuckled. “You said that to Arrah?”
“Naturally, she thought it funny as well.” James shook his head and grinned. “Then she asked if I missed her.”
Astlen leaned against the doorframe. “And what did you say to that?”
“I said… I wasn’t entirely sure I missed her, but if she left again, I might find the answer.”
Astlen threw back his head this time.
James winced. Arrah had also laughed. The noise made his head ache even more.
“No wonder she claimed to have missed you,” Astlen said. “If you were like this before the kidnapping…”
James thought of that. He had felt like his old self for a moment. He didn’t miss Arrah more than anyone else from his old life, but he knew the reason she’d enjoyed him had been a combination of the passion and his good-natured humor.
He bent forward and ran his hands through his hair. He’d been surprised that Arrah hadn’t shied away after seeing his scars. He looked over at Astlen again. “Tell me, how do I look?”
Astlen grinned. “Sorry, old chap, but if you wanted someone to tell you you’re pretty, you should have allowed Arrah to stay.”
James rolled his eyes. “I mean, am I hideous?”
Astlen shrugged. “Your face is a surprise at first, but only because it’s different. I wouldn’t say you’re hideous.”
James grunted and stood. “I should go get my wife.”
“You should. Ganden was right. She’s gorgeous. You’re a fool to have stayed here last night when you could have had her in your bed. Had I been you...” The door was slammed on the last of his words.
James dressed and then left the house as fast as he could, but his eyes protested the sunlight.
He made it to Asher’s home quickly and walked up to Kim’s room. He paused outside the door and took a breath. He was not looking forward to this conversation and if he found her to be crying… Shaking his head, he twisted the knob and cracked the door. “Kim?”
The room was empty.
He backed out and then checked his own, but it was just as he’d found it the day he’d arrived in London. He went downstairs and found Ayers in his study behind his desk.
The duke was not alone.
Everly sat in the corner of the room with a book. Her brilliant red head came up. Those green eyes glowed. She frowned when she saw James and slammed the book down on a nearby table. Her gaze shot daggers at him, but she said nothing.
James knew she was upset on Kim’s behalf. Was Kim home then?
Ayers looked only slightly less upset. “Enjoy your night at Astlen’s?”
“I did not share a bed with Arrah Page,” James said. “Whatever her assumption, nothing happened.”
The duke and duchess looked at one another.
Then Everly asked, “What are you talking about? Arrah Page? I know who she is.” She gasped. “You…” The blood drained from her face.
Ayers frowned and leaned across his desk. “Wait. We knew nothing about Miss Page. I only knew about the missive you sent by last night.”
James frowned. “So, Kim hasn’t spoken to you?”
“Kim isn’t here,” Everly said. “She’s not at Astlen’s?”
James tried to push away the wariness that began to invade his chest, but once it began to reside, it would not be moved. “The duke said she left as soon as she saw Miss Page.”
The room was silent, and James knew their unasked question. “Miss Page was not there for me. She was Astlen’s company.”
Ayers stood. “I sent a footman with her. I’ll talk to the servants and see if he sent word back to her whereabouts.”
The duke left and returned moments later. “They haven’t any word of your wife.”
“I’ll check Lady Brinley and Lady Beatrix’s home.” They were the only other friends James knew she had.
“I’ll go with you,” Everly said. “Though I suggest the next time you leave, you take the time to tell your wife where you've gone.”
Denhallow made no reply. He'd been upset and had purposefully worried her. Bow, he was the worried one.
“If Lady Denhallow is not at Lord and Hero’s residence, you return home,” Ayers said to his duchess.
“All right.” Everly kissed his cheek and then followed James from the house and into a carriage.
Once inside the carriage, Everly said, “I’m quite upset with you, James.”
James crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Not now, Everly. I need to think.” He hoped Kim had gone to see Beatrix or Brinley. Otherwise, he didn’t know where to find her.
The duchess would not be silenced. “She does nothing but think of you and your happiness and you reward her by sleeping elsewhere and not even sending a note.”
James reached up and rubbed his temples. “Everly, please.”
She grunted. “I take her to these parties, but really, you should be there. You are her husband. You not being present makes people assume you’re ashamed of her.”
He looked at her. “Really? People look at her an
d think I’m ashamed?”
“You know how gossip works,” she hissed. “You’ve started and finished more than your own share of it in your day. And now, imagine when word spreads that you have seen Arrah Page.”
“I didn’t touch her.”
“I know that,” Everly said. “Otherwise, I’d be doing something very terrible to you, like clapping loudly at your ears.”
James groaned at the very notion.
“You’d have deserved more than that,” she assured him. “Much more. And did you know she asked my help in planning a masked ball? Naturally, I guessed it would be so you can wear a domino and be present, but she didn’t say. All she mentioned was the opportunity to dance with you.”
“I’m sure plenty of gentlemen dance with her,” he said, thinking about Mr. Harris. Then another thought occurred to him. What if she’d gone to see Mr. Harris in revenge? His heart beat like a fist at his ribcage.
He could imagine Colby Harris now, with his arms about his wife, comforting her. He’d likely go in for a kiss. People naturally weakened around those they trusted. “How close is she to Mr. Harris?” he suddenly asked.
“What do you mean?” Everly was staring out the window.
“Are they… close?” It cost James more than a little of his pride to ask it.
Everly looked at him. “She’s danced with him once or twice but not at every event. Colby likes her and naturally, he’s a likable gentleman.” She narrowed his gaze. “I hope you don’t think Kim would betray you with him. They are nothing more than friends.”
James grunted.
Everly lifted a brow. “The masked ball was Colby’s idea.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that he wants my wife,” James said.
Everly rolled her eyes. “At least someone does.”
James met her stare. “That’s enough, Everly.”
Everly calmed, knowing she’d crossed a line, and looked away. “She’s a beautiful woman, inside and out. Most men like her. But really, I believe Colby to be interested in someone else.”
That was good to know.
They arrived at Lord Lore and Lady Brinley’s house and were quickly told that Kim was not there, so they set out again.
They received the same new at Hero and Beatrix’s home.
“I’m going to Mr. Harris’ residence,” James told Everly.
“She is not with Mr. Harris,” Everly said.
“Give me directions,” James said as he climbed out of the carriage.
“You’re wasting your time, but…” Everly told him where to go. “Do not make a fool of yourself, James.”
James sent her driver on and got in a hackney. He arrived at Colby Harris’ rented rooms and went inside.
Mr. Harris met him in the drawing room. “My lord, how are you? How is Lady Denhallow?”
“Have you seen her today?” James asked him directly.
“I have,” Mr. Harris said plainly.
James’ heart constricted, and he closed his eyes. “How long did she… stay here?”
“Here?” Mr. Harris asked, straightening further. “Lady Denhallow wasn’t here at all. I’m not sure she would know where to find me, in fact. I saw her at Lord Ayers’ residence, but she was off to be somewhere else, so our conversation was short.”
James calmed somewhat. “You’re fond of my wife.”
“That I am.” Mr. Harris didn’t bother to deny it.
“Well… she’s mine, so… leave her be.”
“Where is she?” Mr. Harris asked. “How is it that you don’t know where she is?”
“That’s none of your concern.” He started past the man.
Mr. Harris stopped him. “You do know that she loves you, don’t you? That she’d never betray you?”
He looked at the younger man. “And if she had offered herself to you?”
“Have you never touched a married woman before?” Mr. Harris asked him.
∫ ∫ ∫
4 3
James narrowed his gaze. “That is neither here nor there. Answer the question. Would you sleep with my wife if she offered herself to you?”
“I would,” Mr. Harris said. “You don’t deserve her. She’s made unhappy by your lack of presence at events. Any man who would willingly upset her likely doesn’t care that much for her.”
James grabbed the man by his lapel. “You keep your hands to yourself. I’ll take care of my wife.”
“Then do it,” Mr. Harris said heatedly. “You can’t imagine the number of men who’d give her the comfort she needed if she ever asked for it.”
“She’s my wife!”
“Is she?”
James’ fist struck the other man in the face before he knew what he was doing. Then he let Mr. Harris go.
The younger man tripped but managed to right himself. Then he glared as he fixed his clothes.
“I should call you out,” James said.
“Do it,” Mr. Harris said. “But calling me out would mean actually coming out where others could see you.”
James tightened his jaw. “I am trying very hard not to kill you.”
“Your anger proves nothing,” Mr. Harris said. “Every night, you leave your wife to walk this city alone—”
“I can’t go with her!” James shouted. “Look at me.”
“I am looking at you, my lord,” Mr. Harris said. “You make more of your scars than they are.”
James turned away and tightened his fist, ready to strike the man again. He took a breath to cool his anger. “Why am I discussing anything with you?”
“I wish to help you, my lord,” Mr. Harris said. “You helped my brother. I would like to return the favor.”
“You can thank me by not touching my wife,” James suggested.
Mr. Harris shrugged. “Very well. You may remind me of this agreement when I see you at the next party.”
“Curse you, Mr. Harris,” James spat. “I will never go to a party. I am scarred.”
“But you are not just scarred.” Mr. Harris got in his face. “You are also the Marquess of Denhallow, a wealthy gentleman, but more importantly, you are the husband of a woman who thinks the world of you. With such love and devotion, why would any other title matter?”
It took James a moment to realize how fine of a question Mr. Harris had just posed.
James turned his back on the man. “Do you… truly think—”
“Yes,” Mr. Harris said. “The rest of that statement doesn’t matter, because I believe that everything I’ve said is true. She loves you. The scars you harbor inside yourself are likely far worse than those on your face.”
James glared at him. “Your inability to mind your words angers me.”
Mr. Harris smiled. “You can thank your wife for that. She taught me last evening that I need to start saying exactly how I feel more often. Doing so has gained me my brother back.”
“Yet, it might cost you your next breath if you don’t shut up,” James growled.
Mr. Harris’ smile grew, but he said nothing.
“Stay away from my wife,” James said. When Mr. Harris said nothing, he added, “Am I clear? Speak, man.”
Mr. Harris was still grinning. “I’d better not. As you said, I just gained my brother after two years. I would hate to die so soon after that. Family is everything.”
“Family,” James said. It was possible that Kim had gone to see her mother or aunt. Leaving, he said to Mr. Harris, “You live to see another day.” Then he was gone.
* * *
“Would you like me to fetch you anything, my lady?” the footman asked.
Kim looked up from where she sat on the bench in Hyde Park. She’d never been inside the park before. Everly and the other women had tried to take her, but she’d waited so she could share that special moment with James.
“No.” She closed her eyes and lowered her parasol further. She’d been hiding her face from those who passed. No one suspected her of crying or seemed to notice that her heart was breaking.
<
br /> She still wasn’t sure how it all had come to be. Why had James felt the need to go elsewhere for his needs? Why had he not come to her when she’d offered herself to him completely, body and heart? Why hadn’t he chosen her?
Was she not good enough for him?
She’d heard the rumors and now she was starting to wonder just what sort of man she’d married.
She hated the city. She hated that they’d come, that she’d urged them thusly.
If she could take it all back…
But there was no going back. The deed was done.
So, what did she do now?
She had a husband who hadn’t even bothered to tell her where he would be spending the night, a husband who’d rejected her and put her aside for someone else.
She should go. It was the best option, and maybe the only option she had.
But where would she go? Where could she?
She could return to her mother. She didn’t see James caring if she did. He was clearly through with her. He’d found his own happiness within the city and no longer had any use for her.
But she hated the idea of telling her mother what was taking place.
The urge to hide the truth made her stand. It was time she stopped lying and stopped hiding from her mother. She’d go home.
She looked at the footman. “Let’s go.”
She arrived at the townhouse her family had rented for the Season and found them all in the drawing room. She’d cleaned her face as best she could. She’d been prepared to act bravely in the face of her circumstanced. But there was no one but James present and all her plans fell away.
Their eyes met. Then he was across the room in a blink and his hands were on her shoulders. “Kimberley, where have you been?” There was anger in his voice.
She narrowed her eyes. She wanted to shout and scream. She wanted to say something hideous that would hurt him, but she found it impossible to form any words at all. She tried to form a few, but what came out was nothing more than ragged breathing and great gasps of air.
“I didn’t touch Arrah,” he said. “She was there for Astlen. She’s moved on.”
Mark of The Marquess (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 21
