The Scandalous Love of a Duke (22 page)

From his father’s death, his mother had lived as a mistress –
a whore
. She’d belonged to four men, passing from one to another. It was noted that on two occasions she’d been passed on via a hand of cards. The second time – the last time she had changed protector – Lord Edward Marlow, John’s stepfather, had won.

John let the last paper fall and picked up his glass again. His teeth were clenched hard against a desire to annihilate the men who’d treated her so badly. By these accounts, although they were scarce on detail, his mother had neither been willing nor content, but used.

John’s hand covered his mouth for a moment, and then his fingers swept through his hair.

This was not a burden lifted but another to bear.

His gaze rose to the portrait of his grandfather. The old man had fetched John. The old man had come to France and taken John away and left
her
there,
his daughter
.

John drank the dregs in his glass, closed the folder and then stood.

Harvey was watching, so John schooled his expression.

“Thank you, Mr Harvey. I appreciate you bringing it here. You may go now.”

“You’re welcome, Your Grace. Contact me if there is anything I may do.” With that, Harvey bowed and left.

John took a deep breath, and then went to ask the footman outside to fetch his mother. “Please tell Lady Edward I wish to speak to her here. She may wish to bring Lord Edward.”

The footman bowed before disappearing.

John shut the door then returned to the desk to collect and refill his glass.

When the door opened again, he turned to see his mother slip into the room, Edward was not with her.

“Mama, sit down.” He tried not to sound bitter but he probably failed.

“What is it?” she asked uncertainly, sitting in an armchair opposite his desk. She swept the skirts of her pale blue gown beneath her as she did so, with her usual effortless grace.

She was the daughter of a duke. To him she’d always seemed so perfect, sparkling and beautiful – it was like looking up at the sun. “I know,” he said, with neither explanation nor emotion.

She just stared at him, clearly not comprehending. But then her chin tipped upwards and her posture straightened, fractionally. “What?”

“Everything,” John answered as he rested his buttocks on the lip of the desk and crossed his feet and arms.

Her eyes widened.

“As you would not tell me, I had Harvey find out. I have it all here.” He threw a glance at the file on his desk. “A statement drawn from a man in my father’s regiment, and a Madam who ran a club in London you used to attend with Lord Gainsborough.”

Her skin paled and her hand pressed to her chest. “Why did you do that, John?” Her voice carried disappointment and pain as she stood.

“I thought
why,
was my question, Mama.”

Her fingers were shaking.

John moved. He poured her a brandy and took it to her.

“I am not talking to you about it,” she whispered harshly, shaking her head and refusing the brandy. “I will not, John.”

“I am not accusing you, Mama. I can see from the statements it was not your choice. I merely want to know why Grandfather took me back and not you? Why you lived like that? You are the daughter of a duke. How did you end up a common whore?”

Her eyes suddenly shone with tears.

He set the glass down on his desk.

She backed away, walking behind the chair, as though seeking refuge, and gripped its back.

The door opened.

They both looked across as Edward entered. “What is it?” he asked jovially, looking at John. “Mary is wondering where you’ve gone. The supper dance is next and you’d promised it…” He stopped speaking when his gaze passed to John’s mother. “Ellen, what is it? What’s wrong?” Edward crossed the room.

In the next moment she was sobbing into Edward’s cravat.

John felt guilty. But why should he? He had the right to know this. While he’d endured a lonely childhood, she’d been earning her living on her back. He’d not even been Jemima’s age when this had all begun.

“He knows,” his mother whispered. “He had Mr Harvey investigate my past.”

Edward’s brow furrowed and he glared his accusation.

John stared back. Why should he explain himself? He had a right to know.

“Why would you do that?” Edward challenged.

John leant his buttocks back against the desk and folded his arms again. There was no point in them holding back the rest, but just to make that clear, he said, “I know about the card game you had with Lord Gainsborough.”

Edward’s eyes suddenly glowed hot and dark with anger, and letting John’s mother go, he stepped forwards.

John thought Edward would hit him. He did not though.

Refusing to be pressured, John merely said, “All I want to know is, why?”

Edward’s hands fisted. “Why do this tonight, John? It’s Mary’s evening. She’s waited years for this.” Bitterness and disgust burned in Edward’s voice.

John straightened. “While I have waited
all my life
… I have not planned this to happen tonight. Harvey just turned up.”

Turning away, John picked up the glass his mother had not touched, then handed it to Edward, before picking up his own. “I’ve sacked Wareham?”

Edward sighed. “And what has that to do with anything?”

“He’d been fleecing Grandfather for years, he’s stolen thousands.” John met Edward’s gaze. “Harvey hasn’t found the money yet, so Wareham has not been charged. Yet the man’s greedy, he’s been threatening me with Mama’s past. How would you rather I found out the truth, from you or from the broadsheets?” John looked at his mother. “I admit, I was hurt by the fact he could threaten me with something you hadn’t cared to share. And you would not even tell me when I asked.” He looked back to his father. “But I did not
pick
tonight to tell you. Harvey just happened to obtain the information today. I’m sorry, but having read it, I could not go back in that room and pretend I had not seen it.” He looked back at his mother.

Her gaze softened, and instead of anger and disappointment he saw pity. But when she approached him to offer comfort, he leant away.

“I just want to know
why
, Mama?”

Her hands dropped to her sides and she looked pained by the need to speak, yet she did speak. “He didn’t give me a choice, John. When your father died, I was stranded on the continent. I had no money to bring you home. Your grandfather had disowned me. I wrote, begging him and your father’s family for help. My father came. But by then a man was supporting me, I hadn’t realised there was a price. I couldn’t let us starve. My father took you away from me and told everyone I was dead. But you knew I was not, John. I ensured you knew. I had my old maid bring you to visit me, and I wrote to you, John.”

John finished his drink and set the glass down, then opened his arms to her. She came to him. He held her tightly, giving comfort and receiving it. His grandfather would think this weakness. John did not care. He felt like that child again, the boy who had been driftwood and always felt as though he was about to drown.

Her fingers ran through John’s hair as she pulled away.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he stated in a low, husky voice which was forced past a lump in his throat.

She smiled tentatively, tears on her cheeks. “It was not your fault, John. I never wished to speak of this with you. But it was not your fault.”

He kissed her cheek. “I would rather know, Mama, so I understand.”

She nodded, her tears spilling over again. She wiped them away with the wrist of her evening glove. “I shall go and refresh and then return to Mary. I will not have her know something is wrong.”

John nodded.

She looked at Edward.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, I wish to speak with John first.”

When the door closed behind her, Edward stared at John.

“Will she be well?” John asked.

“Yes, I’ll make sure she is.” Edward pressed a hand on John’s shoulder. “I know this news must be hard for you to hear, son, I understand your anger, but it is hard for your mother to speak of it. She feels shame.”

His hand fell away.

“How long was it after you met her that you came to fetch me? I remember you married as soon as we reached Uncle Robert’s.”

Edward smiled. “A month or so, not long. I didn’t even know you existed until that night. She would not leave Gainsborough. It was not until I saw you that I understood why. What your report probably does not tell you is that Gainsborough kept her by threat. He’d told her he’d abduct you if she ran away, and blackmailed your Grandfather with the threat of revealing her existence.”

John’s eyebrows lifted as he felt shock lance through him.

“Gainsborough beat her, too. But she was too afraid to run and she had nowhere to run to until I met her. She’d felt trapped.” Edward glanced up at the old man’s portrait then. “We fought hard to get you back.” He looked at John and drained his glass of brandy, then added, “For God’s sake stop modelling yourself on him. And take that bloody picture down. I have too many awful memories of both him and this room.” Then his voice firmed, and the muscle in his cheeks set hard. “Now you may tell me where to find Wareham, and I’ll settle this. I presume you know.”

John nodded, smiling slightly as he watched the change from amiable family man, to formidable leader. No wonder Edward had won out against John’s grandfather. Edward was well respected by his tenants for his firm but caring hand.

John had been forced to follow his grandfather’s education, but surely the better role model stood before him. “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” Edward stated, bluntly. “You’d be missed, go back to your guests, keep Mary smiling.” Accepting it without argument, feeling too wrung out to care, John gave Edward the address.

Edward looked back before he left though. “If your mother asks, don’t tell her where I’ve gone. I’ll be back as quick as I can.” Then he added, as though on an afterthought, “Would you ask your Uncle Robert to meet me in the hall, I’ll take him with me.”

John agreed, but before Edward could turn away again, he asked, “What happened to Lord Gainsborough?”

Edward smiled. “Your Uncle Robert killed him. It was self-defence. He tried to kill your mother.”

With that, Edward turned and left.

John looked up at the old man’s portrait.

His father was right, John would take it down and the one at The Place, too.

“You bastard!” John felt no commitment to his deathbed promise now. It was void. If John wished to marry Katherine, he would marry Katherine. Sod the old man and sod the opinion of the world. She was what mattered. Everyone else could go to hell.

John ran up the steps to the house and smiled at Finch as he passed through the door.

The special licence he’d recently obtained was burning a hole in his breast pocket and every fibre of his being wanted to be gone and en route to Ashford. But he couldn’t leave until tomorrow. He needed to speak with Harvey before he left.

John was in such a benevolent mood he’d even kissed Mary and his mother when he’d greeted them at the breakfast table.

Edward had smiled at him as he did it.

His family had stayed the night following the ball to make things easier and he’d asked them to stay on this morning, feeling in charity with his mother.

He’d not yet had chance to ask Edward what had happened with Wareham last night. He’d been too emotionally bruised to care, and this morning he’d focused on getting the licence. But now Edward was in the hall.

John gave his hat to Finch. “Do you have a moment, Papa?”

“Son. Mr Harvey called for you earlier. He left a note on your desk in the library.”

“Thank you. Will you tell me about last night?”

Edward gave him a sudden, quick smile and set his arm about John’s shoulders, turning him to the library. It reminded John of the camaraderie he’d felt with Edward when he’d been young, and love, yes, he had loved Edward as a boy. He probably still did.

“Yes, and I have something to say, too.” Edward’s voice became confidential. “There is nothing wrong in asking for help. Stop isolating yourself. Sharing burdens is sensible, not weak, but wise, John.”

Edward’s arm fell as they entered the room, and then he shut the door.

When he faced John again, he said, “And I have an apology to make to you.”

John frowned.

“I saw you were not happy before your grandfather came for you at Farnborough, when you were a boy. I was going to talk to you, but once we had you back, I did not care to open old wounds. I should have spoken and helped you put the past into perspective. I’m sorry I did not, and sorry I let your grandfather misguide you. However, I cannot change that, but I can and I will tell you when you are in the wrong, John. Listen to me – argue with me if you will – but do not keep things hidden.”

“I am not ten now,” John mockingly replied.

Edward laughed. “No, but I am still your father and you are still my son.”

John turned and picked up Harvey’s letter then broke the seal before turning back, smiling. “Very well, I’ll listen, if you have something sensible to say. If not, expect to be ignored.”

Edward smiled. “You may ignore me, but if I’m proven right, I will gloat.”

John smiled, too. “Tell me about Wareham.”

“We made it clear he does not wish to publish anything regarding your mother’s history. I think he heard the message.”

While Edward spoke, John scanned the letter, and then looked up.

“Well, you obviously scared him. He hired a coach to Dover this morning. We finally have enough evidence against him too. He withdrew money from the account we’ve been trying to trace before he left. Harvey’s sent the runners to arrest him. Thank you for your help.”

Edward smiled. “You’re welcome. Now, have you any other problems I may fix?”

John thought of Katherine. “None you can fix for me.”

“I’ll leave you then?” Edward smiled.

John could go to Ashford now Harvey had written. But first he wished to speak to Phillip.

When John reached Boscombe and Parkin’s offices, though, Phillip was out on some errand, and they advised he would not be free until five.

John thought about racing off to Ashford, but decided not to. He wanted to tell Phillip about his intentions first. It felt the right thing to do. So John called on Harvey instead and discussed the role Phillip would play if he took the post John was about to offer. While the marriage licence in John’s pocket continued to whisper its presence. And as he spoke to Harvey and learned nothing new, John felt a constant concern that Katherine might say no. But why would she?
He’d be lifting her miles above her station.

When John left Harvey’s offices, it was still too early to look for Phillip, so John headed to White’s. It was dusk when he left there, and the autumn air had chilled.

An elderly matron let John into the building where Phillip rented rooms. John jogged upstairs feeling jubilant and excited.

Tomorrow he would see Katherine again, and secure her. He’d insist she say yes. He had an arsenal of experience and resources with which to persuade her after all. If he had to court her for a bit, he would, the girl deserved to be spoilt anyway. He could ply her with his undivided attention, as well as gifts, now Wareham was out of the way.

Phillip’s door was left ajar and John could hear him moving about inside.

He knocked. “Phillip?”

“Good God. John! Come in.” Phillip was standing across the room. He had linens across his arm. “This is a bloody honour. I did not expect a duke to call on a clerk?”

“Hardly a clerk, you’re qualified.” John laid his hat on a chest near the door.

Phillip smiled. “But still a lackey, for the moment at least. One day I hope to be more.”

“Actually, that is why I called,” John opened, pulling off his gloves and then letting them drop into his upturned hat. “I have an offer for you. A position has arisen in Harvey’s offices. He will retire in a few years and I want someone I can trust to replace him. He oversees everything, my estates and investments. Would you be interested?”

“Would I!” Phillip’s eyebrows lifted, “I’d intended progressing a career in the courts, but this…” He stopped, looking flabbergasted, and took a breath. “It’s an opportunity I would be a fool not to take. Yes, John, thank you, I gladly accept.”

John smiled, pleased that he could progress his friend. In truth it was only fitting if Phillip was to be his brother-in-law.

“Do you want a drink?” Phillip asked, still looking in shock.

“No, thank you, I’ve just come from White’s.”

“Well forgive me then, because I need one after that news.”

As Phillip turned to a corked bottle of wine on a nearby chest, John glanced about the room. Phillip’s trunk was half-packed and there were clothes on the chair beside it.

“Are you going somewhere?”

John heard the wine pouring. Then Phillip turned, smiling broadly. “Home. Kate is getting married at last. She has accepted the vicar.”

The blood drained from John’s head and something sharp sliced through his gut. He couldn’t find any words to answer.

Phillip sipped his wine. “I know, it stunned me too when I heard. I never thought she’d settle, but it’s true. They’re getting married in three days. They only announced it three weeks ago.”

John hardly heard Phillip’s words.

I will not let the vicar have her.

“I’m leaving at first light,” Phillip continued, oblivious to John’s turmoil. “The wedding is a small affair, so there’s no reason you would have heard, I suppose. They’re not having a wedding breakfast.” The enthusiasm suddenly dropped from his voice. “I doubt mother would’ve agreed to fund it. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll wish me to pass on your congratulations.”

The hell I do
, “I’ll tell her myself, when I see her.” His voice sounded as though it belonged to someone else.

Giving John an odd look, Phillip offered a drink again, the wine or coffee, but John refused once more and made an excuse to leave. He felt like he was in a stupor as he returned home.

Within two hours, notes written to those who needed to know of his sudden absence, including Harvey, excuses made to his family for deserting them in town, and bags quickly packed by his valet, John was on the road, driving his phaeton.

He rode through the night, which, thank God, was clear, hurtling home to Pembroke Place.

He rested once he’d reached there, not sleeping but just waiting for light.

It was nine o’clock in the morning when he stood before the door of the Spencer’s little manor house, tired and anxious. The special licence he’d acquired only yesterday still rested in his breast pocket, but now he was not sure it would ever be used.

The clear blue sky above him reminded John of Katherine’s eyes, as he waited for the door to open.

Behind him, he heard his horses whinny as his groom held their heads.

John took off his hat.
God
, he could not remember ever feeling so desperate. He’d beg her to take him if he must.

The door finally opened and John’s heart pounded as Castle greeted him with surprise.

~

Katherine looked at the clock when the door knocker struck, it was only nine. Richard had formed the habit of calling each morning since they’d announced their engagement. But this was early even for him.

Thank goodness her stomach was not too ill at ease this morning.

She checked her hair in the mirror and smiled at herself. There were only two more days to go. Two more days and her conscience would have to cease whispering that she should tell John.

She went into the hall. Usually Richard took her for a drive so they might talk privately. But when she entered the hall she stopped.

“Katherine.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to speak to you.”

She turned her back and swept into the parlour, leaving John where he stood.

He followed her. She had not invited him in. She didn’t want him here.

“Katherine…”

“Go away, John.” She shut her eyes, as if just not seeing him could make him go.
Why did he have to come now?

“You must listen to me.”

Opening her eyes, she met his gaze in the mirror. He was a few feet behind her, and the door stood wide open beyond him. “You can have nothing to say I want to hear.” She didn’t turn.

“Katherine.” His hand lifted and he moved forward with earnest eyes. Not the Duke,
John
. Her traitorous heart leapt out to him. But there was no future with him. He did not love her. He’d insulted her.

The rage which had consumed her weeks ago flared back to life and she spun to face him, certain her anger burned in her eyes though she restrained her voice to a harsh whisper so her family would not hear. They were eating breakfast. They must have assumed the visitor was Richard too. “I am marrying Richard in two days, John. Go away. You will destroy everything.”

“Let me speak, Katherine, please? That is all I ask.”

She hated John suddenly, with a force which overwhelmed her, and yet she loved him too. His striking pale blue eyes held hers, lined by long black lashes, and his hand slipped through his ebony hair. She remembered the same gesture from watching him in the lake years ago.
Oh John, go away. Go away before I cannot let you go again.

He stepped closer, and she couldn’t step away. “I love you, Katherine. I can’t forget you. I want to marry you.” She shook her head. He was mad. Mere weeks ago he had offered her the position of mistress once more. “You have to take me.”

“No. You do not love me, and I’m
already promised
.”

“I’m serious. Listen to me.” His whisper carried on the air and she hoped Castle had not hovered outside the door. “I need you. You are not his. You’re mine. I cannot live without you.”

“
His…
”

“Your saintly reverend…” She’d known who he’d meant. “…Do not marry him.
I
want
you
. Marry me.”

Good God
. He was selfish to the last. He begrudged her even the possibility of happiness. “And I suppose what I want does not matter.”

“What you want is me. You said you loved me, Katherine.”

He was so arrogant. Why must he do this now? And why did her foolish heart have to listen? She had never seen him so emotional, not even when he’d been young, his eyes glinted with need. But she could not trust him. She would be secure with Richard. Richard loved her. “Not anymore, John.” It was a lie. There was unbearable pain in her heart. “Go away.” Her whisper lowered, “I am marrying, Richard.”

He gripped her hand. “No, marry me. Why would you choose him?”

Because you weren’t here, and you didn’t offer, and…
“You do not love me, John.”

“I do, Katherine. I swear it. Listen to me. I thought I couldn’t, but now I know I was wrong. I will fight for you if I must. I shall not give you up. Let him find someone else. You would be a duchess, not a vicar’s wife.”

She tugged against his grip. “Three weeks ago you wanted me as your mistress. What has changed? Nothing, this is just jealousy.” He looked as though her words had pierced him and his grip became over-tight.

“You’re hurting me, John.”

His eyes clouding with confusion, he let her hand go and took a breath. “I… I can’t lose you. It has taken me too long to make this offer, yes. I was an idiot before. But accept me now and have done. I beg you.” He dropped to one knee.

“Get up, John, I do not wish you to beg. I wish you to go. Richard will be here in a moment. Don’t ruin this for me… ”

“It cannot be too late, Katherine.” His hand gripped hers again.

Her heart bled to see him so humble, but how could she believe him, when she knew his pride and possessiveness? He’d always had what he wished, and now it seemed he wanted her. But what was his motivation? And how could she step into his world? She could not become a duchess.

Looking through tears, she shook her head as she whispered her denial. “It’s too late, John.” It terrified her. “Just go. Please.”

She freed her hand and wiped her tears away.

He stood. She could see he’d given in. “I have made a fool of myself then. I’ve lost you.” His voice was husky.

She said nothing. If she tried to speak again she would only cry. Yet she longed to hold him and be held by him. Richard’s physical comfort had never felt the same as John’s. John was a hope she had clung to in her dreams for years, yet her hope had never been real.

His eyes, which were normally hard diamonds, were melted ice. “Katherine, don’t send me away?”

She shook her head, fearing if she spoke she might lose her strength and say yes. She turned and looked at the hearth. She couldn’t bear to face him anymore. He had been unreachable all her life and now if she wanted him, she only had to say. She did not say.