Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord (29 page)

“I assure you, had I ever thought he could pack the punch he delivered, I’d have moved quicker. But he had the right to do far worse.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t call you out. Pistols at dawn seems more like Ponsley’s style.”

And guns would be far messier than the blood from his broken nose. Thank God the old man hadn’t called him out. Despite it being illegal, it was still done on occasion by the older generation and the pompous asses who treated it like the newest fad for the slightest insult.

“And leave his daughter a widow in the thick of a scandal?” Tristan took a sip of his coffee. He drank it black this morning, and it was truly heaven in a cup. “I was surprised he asked his daughter to leave with him.”

“I’m not.” Hayden placed his cup on the desk and undid the button on his jacket so he could sit more comfortably in the overlarge chair. “Had she gone home with him, he would have annulled your marriage and then had her married hastily off to that prig Warren.”

“Might have.” He was glad she’d chosen him instead. There had been a moment yesterday when he thought she might choose her father.

“Now that you’ve accomplished what Jez set out to do, what happens with the next lady to catch Warren’s eye?” Hayden asked.

Tristan leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on his desk. He wished Warren’s true nature could be exposed. Not that he’d explain that to Hayden. There were only two people in the world that knew of Warren’s past.

“I am officially out of the game, my friend.”

Even if Warren didn’t deserve a decent marriage …

Ever.

“His misdeeds will eventually come out and hang to dry in the public eye,” Hayden said.

Tristan raised his eyebrow and stared back at his friend. How far had Hayden dug into Warren’s past? Did he know about Bea? It wasn’t possible. God, not even Warren knew the truth about Rowan.

“Will they? I have my doubts. The man at times seems invincible and the Fallon fortune will ensure he’s never turned away from a table.”

Why could no one make out the horns hidden just beneath his scalp? It was true that Tristan had more of a reason to despise the man than most—but Warren had had torrid affairs and flings with actresses and dancers since his time with Bea, yet hardly a whisper was peeped about Town.

Hayden raised a skeptical brow. “So you are just going to leave Town and you’ll pretend your marriage never happened overnight?”

“It will definitely have happened.”

“You took even me by surprise,” Hayden admitted.

Tristan grinned. He had wanted Charlotte all to himself and now there was no refuting that she belonged wholly to him. Warren could never get his hands on her, nor would any other man.

“It’s best to leave London. At least for a few weeks to let the worst of the scandal die down and be replaced by someone else’s misfortune.”

“Did you want to marry her? You don’t sound or look like a man trapped by indiscretion.”

Tristan drummed his fingers along the edge of the desk. It wouldn’t hurt to tell Hayden how he and Charlotte had come to be on such friendly terms.

“Charlotte and I grew to be friends after meeting at the duchess’s ball. We have been exchanging letters since then. And I have no regrets in the decision that had to be made.”

“Ponsley is your father-in-law, though. Surely you took into consideration what that would mean in the long term.”

Her father was well loved by the Tories in the House of Lords, the party being antiquated and in need of serious reform—they
did
after all support the plantations where slavery ran rampant. Charlotte’s father was also a hypocrite and didn’t believe the same standard applied to him as to everyone else.

“He matters not.” Though that wasn’t the complete truth. Eventually, his lovely wife would want to make amends with her father—hopefully when the old man grew used to the idea that Tristan was a permanent fixture in the apple of his eye’s life.

Hayden voiced his thoughts exactly. “He’ll matter to your wife eventually.”

“When that time comes it will be dealt with.”

And not a moment sooner. The longer he could put off coming to terms with Ponsley the better. The old man would not forgive him easily for stealing away his only daughter.

“I won’t keep you long.” Hayden put his empty coffee cup down and stood. “I only came to see which of the rumors was true.”

Tristan grinned. “All of them, I’m afraid. You know I can’t stay out of the rags for long.”

Hayden only shook his head. “Will you make any rounds before leaving Town?”

“That depends on whether anyone else shows up in the same fashion you did.”

“Unannounced and curious, you mean?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Though you must admit, the rumor mill has been very busy since yesterday.”

“One needs only to sit in his club for a quarter of an hour to be privy to the latest gossip in Town.” Hayden put his hat on. “Let me know when you plan on coming back to London. Proper introductions for the new marchioness must be made.”

“It’ll be a long time before exception is made for my wife,” Tristan said.

“Not if I have a say.”

Hayden was a good friend, and had an enormous amount of power with his position. It went without saying that Hayden would find someone to hold a ball in his wife’s honor once Tristan gave the go-ahead. And it was a gesture that was greatly appreciated.

Hayden’s expression turned somber. “Will you see Jez before you’re off?”

“I hadn’t thought to pay my respects to anyone. Happenstance brought you to my doorstep this morning, old friend.”

Hayden nodded, not meeting Tristan’s gaze. “She’s been out of sorts, for lack of a better term. I’m worried about her.”

Tristan leaned his head back against the high back of his chair. “To be honest, I’ve been worried about her since the funeral. She’s not been her usual self, even considering the changes in her life. Her husband’s death should have been something to rejoice.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more. But that is obviously not the case.”

“I’ll stop by her house on my way out of Town. It’s the least I can do.”

“Are you sure you want to introduce your new wife in that fashion?”

Tristan rubbed at his forehead. “No. I’ll go on my own.”

“How do you plan to tell her of your success in keeping the young woman out of Warren’s clutches?”

“I daresay there was very little affection between the two of them.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the beginnings of a megrim. His head throbbed fiercely, but there was nothing to be done about it. Not with his bruised face—but how would he explain that to Jez? “I’ll tell her the truth, of course.”

Hayden rose from his chair. “I look forward to your return to London. I’d like to be properly introduced to the woman who finally caught up with you.”

Tristan tried to return his friend’s grin, but his face stiffened and he was forced to grimace instead. “You’ll like her. She has the same fire Jez once had.”

Hayden retrieved his walking cane. “I miss that fire and wonder if she’ll ever be her old self again. Don’t forget to call on her before you leave.”

“I wouldn’t dream of forgetting her. Though I’m liable to scare her off with the condition I’m in. I’m hardly fit company with blackened eyes and a broken nose. Hardly fit to make any rounds around London.”

“Somehow, I think Jez will find amusement in it.”

Tristan stood, shaking his head. Hayden made a good point. Perhaps Jez would not let him live this down.

He walked his friend to the door before heading upstairs to see his wife—who had not come down for breakfast this morning. The maid he’d sent up said she’d woken only a short while ago and had asked for tea to be brought to the bedchamber. She’d be free to roam the house today, but he had a rule about family meals being taken together when everyone was in residence. And she’d adhere to that rule. She had promised to obey him in her wedding vows. He’d hold her to those words for important things—family being of utmost importance to him.

He knocked on the chamber door and waited a spell before opening it since he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about him walking in unannounced. He couldn’t leave her alone all day. Yesterday’s business with her father was sure to have her glum, and he would not have a sorrowful bride.

He strode into the room intent on laying out the itinerary for the day.

Charlotte was in a state of undress. His sister had obviously loaned her a dressing robe, the one made from fine silk and trimmed with lace that he’d brought back from Paris a number of years ago. It was simple, elegant, and flattering on her figure. Her hair was down around her shoulders in a loose spill of curls, and a blue satin bandeau held it back from her forehead.

She was standing with her hands folded in front of her. Though it was obvious she’d been writing a letter because there was a tray with those accoutrements sitting on the end of the chaise and a smudge of ink between her fingers.

“You look well rested,” he noted.

She ducked her head. “As do you.”

“Hardly.” He laughed.

“You look much better than you did yesterday, my lord.”

“No need for formalities. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just wanted to let you know our plans for the remainder of the day.”

“Your sister has been to see me. She said we would leave after luncheon, and stop at a posting inn around the dinner hour.”

Now what was he supposed to talk about with his new wife? “Very good, then. I didn’t mean to interrupt your letter writing.”

Charlotte blushed, as she turned to look at the evidence of her letter behind her. “I wanted to let Ariel know the truth. I feel terrible that I won’t see her before we leave.”

“What of when we are back in Town?”

“Will we come back for the little season?”

“I defer that decision to you.” He paused, thinking he should clarify his reasoning for leaving. She must think carefully about when would be the right time for her to be presented as the Marchioness of Castleigh. “Though I do believe that the longer we are absent the better it will be for your position in society on our return.”

She mulled on it a moment, clearly understanding what wasn’t said. “We’ll have to see how we manage in Birmingham.”

“We travel in two carriages. We should have some time to ourselves.”

She visibly swallowed. Did she think he’d seduce her in the carriage? Or did she just not want to be alone with him?

This was damnably awkward.

“I have an errand to run before we leave.” She opened her mouth as though she were going to ask what, then closed it. “You can ask what my plans are, Charlotte. Don’t make this uncomfortable between us. We were on such good terms before yesterday.”

“My life has changed very drastically over the last day.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “It can’t be changed now.”

“I don’t want it to be changed. I just want everything to be like it was before…”

Before they’d lain together or before they’d wed? Taking a few more steps in her direction, he brushed his lips over her cheek. “Today is to be your only day of reprieve from this family. You must dine with us at all meals; you cannot hide in our bedchamber for the rest of your days. You need to be a part of this family.”

Charlotte pulled away with a sharp glare in her eyes. “You don’t mean to dictate my routine? High-handedness was one of the reasons I reviled Mr. Warren. He assumed I’d keep my head ducked low and follow his rules unchallenged. I will kowtow to no one.”

Tristan narrowed his eyes. Was she really comparing him to that wretched man?

“I will not tell you how you should go about your day, but there are rules that must be adhered to in this house for the sake of the children.” He held up his forefinger. “One of those rules is that I dine with them, even though they are too young to be at the main table. The second is that activities are carried out in as normal a manner as possible for the children, and they will never be treated as though they are different from any other wellborn child.”

“You will set them up for failure if they think they have the same privileges other children of the peerage have.”

“Ask me if I care, Char. My children have been my world for a long time, and I will not let anyone tell them they are not good enough.”

Charlotte blushed a deep scarlet. He hadn’t meant to chastise her, but life was complex where his children were concerned. They’d have a difficult-enough time when they were grown; it was only fair to let them enjoy life freely while they understood little of what hindrance their parentage would cause them when they were old enough to understand society’s strictures.

“I’m sorry. I thought…”

“You thought wrong. Don’t paint me with the same brush you use for Warren.” His jaw tightened as he took a calming breath. What would he do if she despised his children? “Not all men are created equal.”

“Please, I don’t want to quarrel.” Charlotte placed her hand on his arm. “This is difficult for me. Can’t you understand that?”

“And is it any easier for me? I admit I have been thinking about marriage longer than you have, but that doesn’t make this any less odd for me than it is for you. We’ll both have to make adjustments.”