9781618859594HerDeviantLordPimentel (9 page)

“My concern is
Mary Elizabeth. The vexed minx knows not how to take no for a bloody answer. I
do not want her in my life, and I will not tolerate this level of harassment.”

Lord Chalcroft
rose and bellowed, “You mean to tell me, that blasted wench has had her sights
on him this entire time? And you still drew up a contract to saddle her on me?”

The madam scowled,
licked her lips, and tore up the parchment she reviewed. “Will that satisfy
your ire, Lord Chalcroft?” The fat bastard only grunted and left the room,
muttering oaths under his breath. “As for you, Lord Wycliffe, I have not the
slightest idea about what you expect me to do.”

“Then allow me to
make this clear for you. We, men, pay a great deal of money for the utmost
discretion. And you, madam, have employed a woman who cannot keep her lips
sealed. Take care, as I will only speak of this once. The former Duchess of
Downsbury has returned, miraculously, and thank goodness she is alive and well.
While it is not known what condition the duke is in at the moment, Mary
Elizabeth went screaming out into the street after barging into my home,
telling everyone she saw that her ladyship was alive.”

The woman sighed
and now clasped her hands.

“You must
understand, under the circumstances, I cannot permit her actions to go
unpunished. Either you do something, or I shall have her arrested for
harassment. Decide now, as I have other appointments to attend to.”

She grimaced and
put her hands up in defeat. “Bear with me a moment, my lord. This is the first
time in all the years I have been in this profession that I have ever been
faced with this decision. I am no fool as to why discretion is required, but I
will ask you not to involve any runners. I cannot have my establishment
compromised.”

Rising from her
seat, she walked toward the door, opened it, and motioned a henchman forward.
“Please remove Mary Elizabeth’s belongings from her room and have
Ansen
escort her off the property. Seeing as her wages were
paid not two days ago, there is no need for compensation.”

Madam Martine left
the door open and returned to her seat, facing him. “Will that do, my lord?”

Relief washed over
Bastian. Never in his life had he ever experience the need for blood as he did
just now. “Yes, it will.”

Bastian rose and
was nearly out the door when the madam called him back. “Just one more thing,
my lord.”

“And what would
that be?”

“Mary Elizabeth is
quite the headstrong chit. If she continues to pursue this fascination with
you, you will have to employ a runner. She is not my responsibility any
longer.”

He nodded, and strode out of the house,
never looking back or giving it another glance.

Chapter Eight

Cordelia fought
back the urge to weep as she and her companion followed a guard down the dank,
dark corridor. Bastian had squeezed her hand, reassuring her that he was
nearby, yet nothing could dull the anxiety that chipped away at her soul.

In a few minutes,
she would face the man who had written her off as dead, and even in the eyes of
scandal, tried to marry a woman who was already married. A man who was charged,
found guilty of crimes, and consequently stripped of his title.

At this point, the
mere fact she that did not possess a farthing to her name as a result of his
idiocy did not matter. She was here at his request, and with any luck, she
would not be in his presence very long. The faster she left this insidious
building, she, Matthew, and Bastian, could return to a normal life.

The guard stopped
outside the door where another gentleman waited to speak to them. “My lady,
allow me to introduce myself. Henry Winchester, your husband’s solicitor. Shall
we enter?”

Cordelia looked
back at her love and frowned. “Dear, would you terribly mind if you waited
outside?”

“Not at all, my
love. If you have need of me, only call out my name or have Richard’s solicitor
come for me.”

Then, Cordelia
turned and entered the cell. It was dimly lit, and the putrid scent of illness
lingered. She lowered the hood to her cloak and sat in a chair next to the
ailing duke. She waited in silence until Richard finally spoke.”

“So fickle fate
is, that she would present me with my wife, who is supposed to be dead. Tell me,
Cordelia, did you think of me often?”

She desperately
tried not to choke on her spit.
The nerve
he has
. “No. I did not, Richard. I thought of you as much as you did I.”

He snorted, which
was followed by a string of dry heaving coughs. His skin, even in the poor
light, was discolored. Death would follow him soon, yet not soon enough. “Yes,
of course, how I could I expect anything less? I am certain, though, you
probably found some confounded village servant to make use of in the
meanwhile.”

“What I have done
while I was presumably deceased is not of your concern. To the world, I was
dead, and that time was mine alone. Alone, you wretched fool! How many women
did you fornicate with and then condemn to a foreign brothel?”

“Bah!” he choked.
“I did not request your presence to argue. Quite frankly, I am looking forward
to be released from this hell into the hands of death. Only then, will I truly
have my peace and silence.” Richard nodded to his solicitor, who then came
forward and handed her a note.

Cordelia blinked
and whispered to the man, “What is this?”

“Open it, if you
will, my lady.”

She obliged and
read on. Then, her mouth dropped, and she whipped her head back to her husband.
“Richard… What is the meaning of this? This was part of my dowry. You cannot tell
me that you did not use this money, nor sell off my family’s estate.”

He grumbled
beneath his breath, and tried to talk. Cordelia leaned forward to hear what the
man had to say. “I could not bring myself to touch something that belonged to
someone as cold and unfeeling as you, Cordelia. From the first moment I brought
you home, you were nothing but trouble. Is it any wonder that we never had children?
Ah! Yes. I know why. Because coming home to bed you was such a task.”

He coughed some
more, but nothing could hold back her tears. He had finally admitted his
disdain for her, and it could not have had worst timing. Fighting back the urge
to yell and draw too much attention to her visit with him, she righted herself
and gained composure.

“While we are on the
subject of revelations, I suppose I shall grace you with one last slice of
knowledge before you depart your foul and hateful existence. I was pregnant
once, by you. But I lost the child in my second month. I am thankful we were
never blessed with such a precious gift as such. I was, however, blessed to
have the Earl of Wendelhem’s son nine months ago, so what do you have to say
for yourself now?”

The man looked
positively ill and ready to croak. “Get. Out.” he sputtered.

“Gladly, my lord.
I hope you rot.”

“Let me see you
out, my lady.” The solicitor offered his arm.

“I am quite
capable of seeing myself out. Goodbye, Richard.”

By the time she
reached the cell door, he was gasping for air. The guard rushed in. “Shall we
call for the physician?” the solicitor queried.

“What for? The man
is dead,” the tall, young guard said with glee. “Looks like I won this bet.”

Cordelia didn’t
bother looking back. She kept pace until she found Bastian seated down the hall
at a guard’s desk.

“Cordelia, are you
ready?”

“Quite so. Get me
out of this…this…suss pool of criminals.”

A guard behind her
chuckled. “I guess this means I owe you no further debts, Wycliffe.”

“Indeed. Come
along, my love.”

Cordelia followed
him. Thoughts of Richard’s admission made her skin crawl.
Thank goodness it is over.

* * * *

Bastian drew the
silent and mournful woman closer to him. He had watched her shiver for a
quarter hour now, and he did not know what to make of her silence.
What did Richard say to her, to have her
left in such a state
? He wrapped his arms around her as she buried her head
into his chest, sniffling and trembling. “My love, what is the matter? Surely,
your visit could not have gone so awry?”

She pulled away
and gazed up at him. Those dark pools flooded with tears, which now fell mercilessly.
“He returned my dowry and the deed to my family’s estate.”

“How is that so
bad, dear? I do not understand the cause for your anguish.”

“He could not
bring himself to use it, once he realized how ‘cold and unfeeling’ I was. I
cannot believe he actually admitted it to me, but his actions over the years
could not have been be any clearer regarding his displeasure in marrying me.”

She hugged him and
then sighed. “Am I so terrible a person that he did not see fit to use what was
part of our marriage agreement? Tell me, Bastian? I cannot understand what I
ever did to deserve this treatment. After all I did,
endured
, and in the end, it is not he that is the cuckold. It is I,
because I survived and have now returned.”

“You, my love, did
nothing. The man, right from the beginning, was off. There has always been
something off regarding his demeanor and conduct. Even the chaps at White’s
whispered a time or two about his misgivings. And to be matter of fact, you are
not the cuckold, my love. It is he. Now that he is gone, you will have a chance
to repair any ill thought of your involvement in his actions.”

“I do not see your
meaning, Bastian. The
ton
is not
interested in hearing from a woman whose title was stripped along with her
husbands.”

“No. But you are
still, by all means, Lady Cordelia Wycliffe. That is to say that you will be,
once you marry me. I have always wanted you. And this is an opportunity I do
not want to see passed up. Tell me you will marry me, Cordelia. I do want the
three of us to be one happy family. I care not for the gossip, nor do I care
where we end up living. As long as we are together, that is all that matters.”

Cordelia turned
away, wiping a runaway tear and returning her attention to him. She slid closer
to him, and placed her tiny hand on his cheek, closing her eyes for a moment.
“Nothing would give me a greater pleasure than to become your wife, but Richard
has only just passed.”

“Think nothing of
it, dear. Allow me to handle the rest. The man was in prison, and I cannot see
a village parson giving us much grief over this marriage.” She blinked at him.
“What is it, love?”

“A village parson?
Do you mean to be married in the country?”

“Quite so. I would
rather not have too much attention drawn to the Earl of Wendelhem’s wedding.
No, I think I should like a private ceremony.”

With all their
chatting, Bastian did not realize the carriage had stopped outside his house. A
footman opened the door, and the dampness of rain wafted into the carriage. He
stepped out first, and while it had rained earlier in the evening, puddles
still riddled the street.

Bastian lifted his
soon to be bride and settled her on the doorstep. “Run along and see how
Matthew is doing. I will join you shortly. I have some things to discuss with
Cedric.” She nodded and headed on upstairs. “Cedric, follow me, if you would. I
would like a report of the day.”

“Sir, about that,
there is something you should know.”

Bastian stopped at
his desk in the library and turned to face the frowning butler.

“My Lord, we
received several visitors while you were out. All were looking to speak with
her grace.”

Bastian felt as if
the wind had been knocked out of him. There was no way they could put this off
any longer. Cordelia needed to make an appearance, and she needed to do it the
using the proper channels.

He could not allow
his household to be disrupted with curious visitors. Bastian walked around the
desk and sat down. Picking up a quill and blank parchment, he penned a note
before passing it to the aging man. “See that the Marquess of Stoughton
receives this first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.” The
butler left him to his thoughts.

Should we marry before the month is out, or should we consider a
quick and private ceremony?
With visitors already
descending upon his estate, the sooner they took care of those details, the
better off they were.

Bastian climbed
the stairs at a leisurely pace, contemplating how to break the news to his
lovely fiancée. Would she scold him for how fast he desired to be married, or
would she reject him altogether?

He happened upon
Cordelia in their son’s nursery as she sat in a chair cradling the sleeping
babe, her eyes closed as well. The poor woman had had a trying day, and tonight
had exhausted her. Perhaps he would allow her one night of rest.

He lifted the
child from her arms and carried him to his crib, tucking him gently under his
blanket. Satisfied that he would not wake, Bastian strode toward his beloved
and lifted her from the seat. There was nothing warmer than holding Cordelia
and carrying her to their bed. If there was anything more beautiful and
consoling, it was being reunited with her after all this time.

Bastian laid her
on the bed, taking care to remove her slippers, and covered her with the sheet.
In the soft light, he disrobed and joined her in bed, holding her again. Only
this time when his eyes closed, thoughts of finally marrying her fluttered
about.

* * * *

“What in the world
is all the commotion about, Cedric?”

“I am not quite
sure, ma’am. If you will allow me a moment, I shall see what the ruckus at the
door is about.”

“Certainly,
Cedric.” Cordelia bounced the happy baby on her knee in the morning room, only
to be interrupted by Isabel, Cecily, and Emily barrelling through the parlor
door.

“Look how
beautiful he is,” Emily exclaimed. “I can see why you have been keeping him all
to yourself.”

The ladies sat in
dais, waiting and appearing as if ready to burst.

I wonder what is amiss.
“Are you ladies
going to share what is going on, or are you going to just sit there as if all
you have swallowed canaries?”

Cecily stifled a
giggle. “Isabel and I might have swallowed a canary, but poor Emily looks as if
it was an ostrich.”

Emily’s eyes
nearly bulged out of their sockets. She swatted Cecily with her fan, and all
the girls broke into a fit of laughter. “Well, if it is an ostrich I swallowed,
I do not look forward to pushing out such an oversized egg. Good heavens, there
are days when this child means to drive me mad with all its movement.”

Cordelia shook her
head.
Why did I not introduce myself before
to these ladies?
They were all gently bred and looked past her misgivings.
The thought made her want to weep. All the years wasted on trying to impress
others had left her alone and without the companionship of female company.
Company that did not want to compete or impress. Fate had given her a second
chance, not only with Bastian, but with
life
.

“Truly, ladies,
what engagement do you have planned? Are we to go out? If so, I must find
Beatrice, Matthew’s nursemaid.”

“Yes, we are
headed into town for some shopping. I have made an appointment with a
modiste
, specifically for you. It is my
understanding that we need some items before the week is out, and she has some
already made, which might suit for the occasion.”