Only Marriage Will Do (21 page)

“No. Thank God, I can assure you of that. None other had touched her. Still, St. Cyr deserves to die.”

“You will kill me with mincing words, Morley.” Dalbury downed his drink. “If not that, then…And why didn’t she tell me at the time?”

Amiable shrugged. “He is a brute and not fit to touch a decent woman. I will say no more. Ask Juliet. She may tell you now, especially as it will all come out tomorrow. I hope Grimes will not insist Juliet speak in front of St. Cyr.” He grinned. “Although I am looking forward to St. Cyr’s face when he sees Juliet. I discovered last night she is rounding rather well.”

Dalbury shot him a piercing look. “You are now reconciled?”

“On the way to it, I suppose.” Amiable stretched his legs and settled more comfortably in the chair. He’d give nothing away to her brother yet. “You cannot imagine my shock to find out my wife, my
wife
, had neglected to tell me of her betrothal to another man.” He still seethed at the thought. “I felt used and betrayed and more dishonorable than ever before in my life.” He glared at Dalbury through narrowed eyes. “Can you imagine doing something so detestable you contemplated letting someone kill you just to make it right?”

The marquess turned from him and paced to the window. “Yes, Morley, I can. I did, in fact. When I found out Katarina’s identity, after I had compromised her, I would have let Manning skewer me without protest. Fortunately, Katarina did not suspect that.”

He shook his head. “So I do understand, but even though Juliet caused this whole mess, you need to find a way to forgive her. She loves you. Your leaving her at the Keep without a backward glance devastated her.”

“I know.” Amiable tossed back his drink and slumped in his chair. “Deep down I knew I should not abandon my wife and child, but I was so furious I couldn’t see her.” He stared at Duncan and raised a hand to stall his protest. “Not that I would have harmed her, but I might have exploded into a million pieces in an effort not to.” He rose and returned his glass to the sideboard. “These past three weeks have been difficult without her.”

“Difficult?” Dalbury’s sarcasm came out a yelp. “You do not understand the meaning of the word ‘difficult,’ Morley. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t do anything but sit and stare and cry. The most damned uncomfortable journey I’ve ever taken.” He shook himself, walked to the sideboard, and poured another two fingers of cognac. “I had to finally take to riding beside the carriage in the cold, even when it rained, because I could not stand to hear her sobs.”

“I will meet with Mr. Sutton as soon as possible, then. I expect he will challenge me, as is his right.” He couldn’t shirk that duty any longer.

Dalbury grunted a laugh. “I find it hard to imagine Randolph Sutton slapping a glove in any man’s face, even one who wronged him grievously.”

“Why not?”

“He is rather mild mannered, shall we say?” Dalbury grinned. “It took the man three attempts to get the words out when he asked for Juliet’s hand.”

Hardly odd behavior, considering how intimidating his brother-in-law could be. Still. “I can’t imagine her consenting to marry such a milksop.”

Dalbury snorted and returned to his chair. “She knew time had run out. The season had come to a close, she was almost twenty-one, and the stigma of the Ferrers scandal had just died down.” Dalbury cocked his head. “You have heard about Ferrers?”

Amiable nodded. “Juliet gave me the bare bones of it.”

“So you know about the duels.”

“She mentioned you killed a man in her defense.”

“In the span of three months I fought six duels.” He raised an eyebrow at Amiable then shrugged. “Most of them slights to Juliet I could not ignore. I killed two men, one of whom dared call her insane.”

“Insane?”

“Insanity runs in the Shirley family. We are tied to them by marriage only, but their title is Ferrers, the same as our family name. Hence our scandalous connection. Damned inconvenient in this case.” The marquess sighed. “Can you blame Juliet for grabbing the first man to show an interest in her after that debacle?”

Amiable shook his head. “I suppose not, but why would anyone call Juliet insane?”

His brother-in-law grinned. “You have not noticed, perhaps, she is a trifle forward in her dealings with men?”

“A trifle.”

“I suppose some men equate such bold behavior with insanity. I believe that is a common reason men lock their wives away in Bedlam.”

“Cowards.”

Dalbury laughed and raised his hand in a salute. “Oh, she chose wisely this time, I will give her that. You have my blessing, Morley. Now all you have to do is make the marriage stick.”

Amiable gripped the arms of the chair. “That is exactly what I intend to do.”

* * * *

Amiable emerged from the office and called for the butler, who appeared immediately. “Has my wife returned yet, Grayson?”

“Yes, sir. Lady Juliet is receiving in the morning room, Mr. Morley,” Grayson replied. “This way, if you please.”

The butler led him to the very room where he had met his wife over four months before. Memories of that morning rushed back, but presently no cries for help beset him, just a murmur of pleasant conversation as he approached the door.

“Mr. Morley, my lady,” Grayson announced and shut the door.

Amiable smiled as Juliet rose and came toward him. Her eyes were not the frightened brown pools they had been in July, yet some kind of concern lurked there. He contemplated the two people with whom she had been conversing.

A young woman, about his wife’s age or a bit younger, rather pretty in a rose-colored gown with brown curls framing her face, sat on the chaise. The young man at her side, soberly dressed in dark brown with a hint of lace at his cuffs and hair pulled back into a wig bag, shifted backward on the seat.

“Amiable. You and Duncan have taken care of your business in good time this morning.” Her voice sounded unusually high pitched. Nervous.

“Yes, my dear. I have much to relate to you but did not know you were receiving callers until just now.” He tried to make his tone soothing, noting her obvious distress. What had panicked her?

She bit her lip and glanced from his face to her guests. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and took his arm. “Allow me to introduce you, my dear.” She led him toward the sofa, where the young man rose to his feet.

“Lady Honoria Claypool, may I present my husband, Mr. Amiable Morley? Honoria is my dearest friend, Amiable.” She forced a smile that made her appear like a painted doll, eyes too wide, lips slightly puckered. Then she turned toward the young man and blushed.

At a loss at her behavior, Amiable frowned. Something was wrong. This was not the forthright Juliet he knew so well.

She gulped then blurted out, “Mr. Morley, may I also make known to you Mr. Randolph Sutton?”

Amiable held his breath, glad he had not reacted to this extremely awkward situation with a more outward sign of distress. A gentleman must never admit to or display distress, pain, or fear. He did, however, blink several times, quite startled at this turn of events. Well, he would get the distasteful interview over and prepare for the challenge to come. Should he choose swords or pistols? No way to know which would be Sutton’s preferred weapon.

He continued to stare at the man, anticipating the glove or at the very least the cut direct. The young man returned the stare, then dropped his gaze from Amiable’s. A very stiff bending of the neck took him completely by surprise. “Mr. Morley.”

“Mr. Sutton.” Amiable bowed his head toward the wary young man, cautious himself. Was the man going to overlook the fact he had stolen his betrothed? Perhaps he played some canny game to make him lower his guard.

Juliet seized the moment to propel him toward a chair and Sutton returned to his place on the sofa beside Lady Honoria. All four smiled carefully at one another before his wife grabbed the conversational reigns.

“Lady Honoria and Mr. Sutton had arrived just before you, my dear. I sent a message to Honoria this morning asking if I could pay her a call and she replied by way of appearing here with Mr. Sutton.”

She inclined her head toward her friend. “I am so sorry I was unable to stay with you in July, my dear, but circumstances simply forced me out of town. Do you remember my betrothal to Viscount St. Cyr, almost two years ago?”

“Of course, Juliet.” Honoria glanced at Sutton, then back to her friend. “I remember you seemed rather relieved that his father broke the agreement. I somehow thought you did not fancy living in France.”

“Rather, I did not fancy living with Philippe.”

“Juliet.” Color painted Lady Honoria’s cheeks a becoming pink, but she giggled just the same. They had apparently been friends for some time for the young woman seemed unperturbed by his wife’s blunt manner.

Sutton, however, eyed her wildly. Amiable raised an eyebrow. Had the man not known the tiger he’d grasped by the tail? Sutton warranted continued observation. Dalbury’s assessment of him as “mild mannered” grossly understated the matter. Dare he believe he had done Sutton a favor by absconding with Juliet?

“It is true, Honoria. The man turned out to be no gentleman, despite his wonderful manners and devastating accent. Yes, I was relieved when Duncan told me the contract had been broken.” She pursed her lips. “You can therefore imagine my dismay to find Philippe in this very room the day after Duncan sailed for Italy, claiming the proxy marriage had been performed and we were married.” She gave her shoulders a little shake then sent a sweet smile toward Mr. Sutton. “I suppose I should, by all rights, have come to you, Mr. Sutton. You were my betrothed. You could have banished Philippe or perhaps fought him for my honor.”

Sutton’s face paled to the color of new cheese.

Amiable bit back a laugh.

“Well, Lady Juliet, I…er…I certainly don’t think…it might not have been wise, you know, after all.” Sutton gripped his knees as he foundered with the words. “I would have come to your rescue, of course, had you called on me.” He stopped. “If I had been in that morning.” Another pause. “Dashed inconvenient if I had been out. Still, you had another champion as it turned out.” His round boyish face brightened.

“Yes, Mr. Sutton.” Juliet leaned forward and looked at him, her eyes clear, her lips pressed together. “I believe God himself sent Mr. Morley to my door that day.” She turned her head to beam at him.

Amiable smiled back, giving Juliet the lead in this foray. Perhaps she knew best, had some plan for putting the situation to rights. She was a brilliant strategist, as he knew first hand. He’d give her her head and trust to Providence.

Juliet resumed her tale, drawing Sutton and Lady Honoria into the scene on that morning of intrigue. She described his entrance, their subterfuge with the faux claim of marriage heralded in a performance akin to one of Garrick’s masterpieces. She embellished Amiable’s role as champion of a damsel in distress, until he became Lancelot, Galahad, and Arthur rolled into one. Had the stage not been the province of whores, Juliet might have found herself in great demand as an actress. She told no lies. Oh, no. A clever embroidering of the facts only that cast him in the light of the romantic hero.

As rapt at her storytelling prowess as her other audience members, he hung on her every word, and he’d been there.

“So of course I asked Mr. Morley, called Captain Dawson at the time, to escort me and Glynis to your house, Honoria. I swear I did not feel safe at all. Then, on the way, I thought ‘What if Philippe follows me and tries to claim me?’ I could not bear to think of such a thing and so I decided I would hide in the farthest reaches of England, far away from anywhere Philippe might think to find me.” She beamed at her friend. “Guinevere’s Keep. You’ve heard me speak of it, haven’t you Honoria?”

“Yes, I have, Juliet. Many times. The captain accompanied you?” She nodded at her friend. Lady Honoria had indeed fallen under Juliet’s spell. Sutton seemed to waver, but would likely topple as well.

“Not at first. He thought it improper. Upon further reflection, however, taking my welfare into consideration, he realized I did need protection. So he joined me the first night and escorted me all the way to Cumbria.” She paused and sighed. “And along the way, we fell in love.”

Amiable froze, eyes fixed on his wife. He risked a glance at Sutton, whose pallor had returned. She had been so close to making this all right. Now came the glove. He deliberately relaxed in his seat, stretching out his legs with no concern, as he had done earlier in the office. A movement calculated to convey disinterest while disguising an acute tension, a readiness for battle.

“Indeed, Lady Juliet?” Sutton finally managed to spit out the words.

“Indeed, Mr. Sutton. I should like to take this opportunity to beg your pardon for what must be perceived as incomparable bad manners and downright fickleness on my part. I had pledged myself to you. The settlement contracts had been signed, in fact, and yet, I managed to fall quite deeply in love with Captain Dawson, now Mr. Morley.” The minx had the temerity to lean toward Sutton and squeeze the hand that lay clenched on his knee. Then she cast her net around the unsuspecting prey.

“I cannot help but believe, Mr. Sutton, that heaven ordained this should happen, don’t you know?” She nodded, her face in grave earnest. “Imagine what would have happened if we had found out about my partiality for Mr. Morley
after
our marriage?” Her eyes widened in alarm. “It would have been disastrous.”

She looked Sutton in the eyes, unflinching. “Would you have wished to be married to a woman, Randolph, who did not love you? Oh, I dare say I would have been fond of you, and been a good wife and mother to your children. And I would have been scrupulously faithful.”

She sent another speaking look to Sutton. “Do not think for a moment I would have acted on those tender feelings for another.” She patted his hand. “However, I would have always had a somewhat saddened demeanor. I would have found some joy in life but not enough. That lack, Mr. Sutton, would have grieved you over the years, don’t you think? You would have wondered why I couldn’t be completely happy in our life together. You would never have known the truth. You would have thought it some lack within yourself, perhaps. All the while not knowing it was me.”