The Scandalous Duke Takes a Bride (16 page)

“Is such a thing possible?”

A month ago, perhaps not. Since she’d been ill and on the mend, yes, anything was possible. She’d never say so, since Tristan was the only friend to not know about her condition.

“Some might consider me an old crone now that I’m widowed. Ten years of marriage is a long time.”

“It happens often enough—an old goat marrying someone too junior to complement his age, and then when he’s had his fill and finally croaks he knows he’s leaving his merry young wife to find someone more to her choosing.”

“I certainly hope you’re right that I’ll find my match. But I don’t think Fallon ever wanted me happy.” They broke apart to partner off with other guests.

When Tristan took her hand again, he asked, “Must you marry at all?”

“Fallon made sure my misery would never end by cutting me entirely out of the estate. He knew how much I hated the institution of marriage, and he knew I’d have no choice but to marry again. So, yes, I unfortunately must.”

Tristan tapped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze before her thoughts wandered too far in the direction of Hayden. She caught glimpses of him on every rotation and almost wished he were still dancing with her so she wasn’t having a conversation with Tristan about whom she should marry when it no longer seemed like an ideal solution. She wasn’t sure when she’d decided that, but the thought of conversing with anyone other than Tristan or Hayden tonight made her nervous and uneasy.

“Cheer up, dearest. We’ll find the perfect husband for you.”

Tristan was always looking on the brighter side of things. That was one of the reasons she adored him as much as she did. Forever an optimist. How she wished she could be more like him in that regard.

“I’d offer,” he said, “but we’d make each other miserable, since we’re more like brother and sister than we could ever play the role of lovers.”

Her face soured up. She didn’t like that idea any more than he. And she ignored the niggling voice reminding her of another friendship that did not feel like a sibling relationship. “Well, who are my potential suitors then?”

Jessica made a point of looking around the ballroom—all the most revered members of the
ton
were present. And scandal was never afoot at a Glenmoore ball, though with her presence that might change after tonight. Even if she was on her best behavior.

There were a number of eligible gentlemen, a few out to please their mamas, but they did not interest her. A few of the married gentlemen danced with the wallflowers present, making them feel less like outsiders.

“What of Longsmere?” Tristan nodded toward a lanky gentleman directly across from them.

“There are rumors he’s in love with a married woman.” Jessica did not want to be a second thought or a burden when she married again.

“Balderdash, Jez.” Tristan shook his head. “I’ve known the man for fifteen years.”

“Just because you went to school together does not mean you really know the type of man he is.”

And men changed behind closed doors. She had firsthand experience with that.

“You’re right. Which reminds me that he’s far too boring to have caught the attention of a married woman.”

“Not if she’s lonely,” Jessica said. “When marriage is made for the sake of convenience, it is often an unhappy arrangement for both partners.”

“I think most couples make do over time, and learn to appreciate each other in the run of their marriage. Fallon was an arse, and would have never been happy, no matter whom he married.”

“Well, if you think Longsmere’s a match, ask him if he’ll dance with me.”

Tristan smiled down at her. “I definitely will,” he said before passing her off to the partner next to her.

She ended up in the arms of Lord Crosthwait. A middle-aged man who was generally quiet and let his wife do most of the talking. But he had a kind disposition from what Jessica remembered from their few interactions.

“Good evening, my lord,” she said with a sweet smile.

His lips flapped, but nothing came out other than a startled gasp.

“I know I’m not generally found at these types of affairs, but it’s a pleasure to dance with you. I don’t think I’ve had this honor until now.”

When she gave him a friendly smile, he seemed to put more distance between them, his hands barely touching her.

When he passed her back to Tristan, she swore she heard a sigh of relief.

“I can’t be that terrible a dance partner. I didn’t step on his toes once; how could I when he tried to put three feet between us?”

“Ignore the lout. Though I thought he was going to have a fit of apoplexy dancing with the most beautiful woman present.”

When she looked toward Lord Crosthwait, he was wiping his brow with an already damp handkerchief. The poor man didn’t know what to make of his fleeting encounter with her. But it didn’t appear that she was the first to flounder him this evening. That made her feel marginally better.

“Do you think most of the attendees dislike me?” she asked in a small voice.

“Never, dearest. You are far too stunning a creature for the awkward men in the room—which there are many—to ever have the gumption to start a decent conversation with. Freethinking women scare them and they are precisely the sort of men you need to avoid at all costs.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice.” And it was working, because she was smiling and in higher spirits.

“I wouldn’t dream of lying about this. Besides, you’re liable to shove me out a moving carriage if I ever dared lie to you.”

“I might,” she agreed with a small laugh.

Tristan eventually twirled them right off the dance floor and toward the punch table.

Hayden was waiting with champagne for her. “I know this is your favorite.”

“The new Perrier-Jouët?” she asked as she reached for the fizzing flute.

Tristan took a sip before her. “Indeed,” he said. “The Glenmoores have spared no expense for the final ball of the season. That is probably the only way to have such a showing with the stench of London during this heat. I’m off to snag you a few dance partners. I’m sorry to leave you in the clutches of Hayden. I promise not to be long.”

Hayden glared at Tristan as he weaved his way through the guests, and muttered, “Cad,” affectionately.

Jessica took a sip of her drink. She couldn’t believe she was at a respectable ball, with respectable company. It was probably best she didn’t join the gentlemen in the games room, even if she could trounce the lot of them at most card games.

Hayden turned to talk to someone next to him while Jessica focused on those mingling nearby. No one approached her, which she had expected. And with Tristan’s good mood having rubbed off on her, she wasn’t as bothered by their cutting glares.

“Can you believe she invited herself here?” Jessica heard women talking behind her. She turned slightly to see if she could identify them, but they were hidden behind a series of potted green leafy tropical trees that created a wall, likely dividing the ballroom from some sort of parlor.

“She arrived with the duke and the marquess,” a high-pitched voice said.

“The duke and marquess would have had an invite.”

“Alsborough most certainly,” came the nasal voice again. The woman sounded as though she was eighty. Who in the world could it be? Jessica stepped away from Hayden, hoping to catch a clear glimpse of the women through a break in the tree wall. She had no such luck.

“Perhaps she plays mistress to them both.”

The stem of Jessica’s champagne flute snapped between her fingers and the remainder of her champagne spilled over on her gloves. Shushing whispers were all she could hear through the buzzing anger in her head, and then the women behind the trees dispersed. A flush washed over her as she tried to sort out the voices in her head. One might very well have been Lady Hargrove, but she couldn’t be sure.
Damn it. Why did they have to go and ruin a perfectly good evening?

A footman was suddenly in front of her, his tray raised to take her glass. Jessica placed the broken fine crystal on the tray and wiped her soiled gloves off on the towel hanging over his forearm. She took it and nodded her thank-you.

Once she handed it back to him, she realized that the guests closest were gawking at her as though she were a circus animal. Some of the more prudish members of society turned away from her, their husbands following suit. Jessica pinched her lips but held her head high as she met the eyes of the others, who were probably curious to how she’d react. They seemed mesmerized and unable to turn away from the spectacle she had made.

Stepping back toward Hayden, she bumped lightly into his arm, hoping to draw him away from the gentleman he was currently engaged with. She got Hayden’s attention.

“Shall we take a turn around the room?” He leaned in close to her ear, his voice darkening as he gave her his arm. “You’ll want to seek out that potential husband you’re determined to find.”

She didn’t bother to tell him that it was unlikely given the way she’d just conducted herself and the censorious glares she was receiving from the majority of women present.

“If I didn’t know you better”—she laughed nervously, hoping those closest weren’t listening to her and Hayden’s private conversation—“I would say you almost sound jealous.”

“Maybe I am. I don’t want anyone to stand between our friendship again.”

She looked at him, confused. “I never allowed Fallon to stand in the way of my friendships.”

“I know.” Hayden ran the back of his free hand over her exposed arm. “And that was probably part of the reason he resented you so much.”

She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with their conversation, especially after the things she’d overheard. Was it any wonder she resorted to recklessness? She’d never been well loved—Fallon had seen to that once he knew her ugly truth.

Would Hayden despise her if he ever knew she was the illegitimate daughter of Lord Henry Heyer? That her mother was a whore who lived in sin daily with Jessica’s father and his wife? Tristan, she thought, might be the most accepting, considering the questionable parentage of his children. Leo wasn’t inclined to care a great deal, either. But how would Hayden judge her? The respectable and ever-proper Hayden?

The room felt like it was closing in around her. Her head felt light and her stomach queasy. Fresh air would help to clear her mind and temper her thoughts. “Let’s take a turn outside,” she suggested.

He directed them back to the open French doors they’d just passed. Her hand went to her throat, where the necklace Hayden had given her was looped around her neck like a weighted collar.

What was wrong with her? Was she not ready for social functions? She felt like a wild bird stuck in captivity and under the scrutiny of too many eyes.

“I’m sorry to have brought up Fallon,” Hayden said remorsefully as soon as they were under the star-dotted sky.

“Don’t apologize. I don’t know what came over me.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. It was a cooler night than it had been in a long while, so instead of the pungent smell of the Thames she was surround by the fresh scent of full-bloomed flowers in the garden below. It was uplifting, and the vise that had taken hold of her slowly loosened.

Hayden stepped close to her, blocking her view of the small garden tucked at the back of the property. “We’re here for you to enjoy yourself, Jez.”

His hands cupped her arms. It must be obvious that she was distressed; she’d not explain why, because Hayden always played the hero and he’d search out the gossips whispering about her.

“I know. And I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” She looked into his dark eyes, almost black in the cover of night. “I’ll forever be grateful to you and Tristan.”

“Because we are
friends.
” There was sarcasm, or something much darker she couldn’t place, in Hayden’s words. Had she upset him?

She tilted her head to the side. “Of course; how else would I mean it?”

“You could forget this foolish nonsense of finding a husband.”

He seemed almost angry. Most wouldn’t recognize the shift in his stance or the hard glint in his eye to indicate it, but she knew him well enough to see that something was wrong.

“If I could forget about marriage altogether, Hayden, don’t you think I would after all I went through?”

The one thing about their friendship was that they were always honest with each other. Well, some secrets needed to remain private.

Surely he knew that marriage was the last thing she wanted with any of the men here. Though she knew in time that if it came down to a choice between marrying and living a life too close to poverty for her liking she would without second thought choose the first.

“Would it be a hardship if you married me?” he asked.

The idea was absurd coming on the heels of her and Tristan’s discussion, but she also knew Hayden would inevitably ask.

“Be serious, Hayden.” She shrugged out of his hold, needing space.

“Would you like me to get down on bended knee to prove how serious I am?”

While part of her wanted to say yes, she knew she could never bind him to her in that way for eternity.

When she turned back to him he started to lower to the ground. She caught him around the arms and pulled him back to his feet, shaking her head as she did so.