When Marrying a Scoundrel (20 page)

God, that made her sound awful, but that hadn’t been a consideration when she’d sent the letter. She’d simply been fulfilling her end of a bargain. Even she could not have foreseen this outcome. If she were superstitious, she’d blame this on peeking into her own cup the night she saw Jack again.

Inside the ballroom ladies glittered and shone beneath the subtle chandeliers. The ballroom always put her in mind of a box of sweets—chocolate and cream with an elegant gold ribbon. She moved around the perimeter of the room, speaking warmly to the few friends she spied and greeting those of the upper ten thousand who deigned to acknowledge her. She was certain they looked down their aristocratic noses at her. Just once she’d like to walk up to one of them and say,
“Hello
,
I’m Viscountess Gerard. One day my husband will be the Earl of Garret.”
They wouldn’t be so quick to snub her then, would they?

Or perhaps they would. One never knew with this lot.

“Why, Madame Moon! Fancy seeing you here.” It was Lady Gosling, looking just like a fat farm cat that had gotten into the milk pail.

“Lady Gosling.” She didn’t return the sentiment. This woman had chased after her Jack, and she didn’t speak to people socially beneath her unless she had motive. Sadie
had her pride, and would not act as though the woman had bestowed some great favor upon her.

The other woman raised a brow when it became obvious that Sadie wasn’t going to offer any more conversation. “Like that, is it? I understand. Do say hello to Mr. Friday for me, will you, my dear?” Before she swept away, she shot Sadie a wink, as though they shared some secret. Odd woman, but that was the upper crust for you—too much intermarrying between first cousins. She shook off the encounter and continued on her quest.

She spotted Jack through the crowd, standing just a little further down the room with Lord Archer. She kept her gaze trained on him as she slowly moved forward—it wouldn’t do to look too eager.

Finally, her dolt of a husband looked up and she caught his eye with a coy smile. He smiled back as she approached. Seeing his companion’s shift in attention, Lord Archer turned. A dark brow climbed his brow, and Sadie could have sworn she saw him elbow Jack in the ribs.

“Madame Moon,” Jack said smoothly, pressing a hand to his side where she thought she’d seen Lord Archer attack. “A pleasure to see you this evening. Do you know Lord Archer Kane?”

Sadie replied that she and Lord Archer had never been formally introduced and Jack performed the necessary formalities.

“Friday won’t tell me what you saw in his tea leaves, Madame Moon, but you’ll tell me all his darkest secrets, won’t you?” Archer asked with a grin. He didn’t look
upon her with disdain at all, or in any other manner that might be offensive. He was simply being friendly.

Sadie smiled at the charming gentleman. “I never betray a confidence, my lord. But I will say that I saw great things in store for Mr. Friday.”

“I don’t doubt it.” There was a roguish twinkle in his eye that made Sadie think Lord Archer was including her in those “great things.” “Oh, lord. Here comes my brother.”

When the Duke and Duchess of Ryeton joined them, Sadie stiffened and immediately wished she was elsewhere. Ryeton was the closest to royalty that she’d ever been. Oh, there were times she’d been at parties Prince Bertie attended, but she never saw him. She was always hired help at those events.

She was only slightly more comfortable with the duchess. She’d read Rose Danvers leaves before her marriage and had caught a glimpse of their passionate affair. She knew that the younger woman loved her husband very much, and sensed the emotion was returned.

This time Lord Archer made the introductions. The duke was cordial, bowed to her, and then immediately engaged the gentlemen in conversation after a quick glance from his wife. The duchess then turned to Sadie.

“Forgive me, Madame Moon, but I wonder if I might be able to secure a reading with you sometime in the near future?”

It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked such a question in public, but Sadie was somewhat surprised all the same. After all, the duchess had wanted to make
certain neither Jack nor Archer overheard her request. “Of course, Your Grace.”

The duchess smiled—an expression that rounded her fair cheeks and brightened her dark eyes. She truly had the loveliest smile. “Thank you. I have something very particular upon which I wish to consult you.”

Intuition made Sadie’s gaze drop to the other woman’s waist, incased in a gown of shimmery plum silk. The duchess blushed and Rose knew her guess had been correct. “I will do my best to answer your questions, but I feel I must warn you that sometimes the leaves are ornery and tell me very little.”

“I have faith in you, and your leaves.” Pretty dimples flashed. “After all, you were the one who told me that Grey and I would end up together, when even I had my doubts.”

Sadie found herself smiling in return. “What a lovely thing to say. Thank you.”

“Would tomorrow afternoon be convenient?”

Sadie replied that it would—even she had the sense not to refuse a duchess—and they talked for a few moments more before rejoining the gentlemen. The duke and duchess stayed with them for nearly another quarter hour before moving on.

Lord Archer sipped a glass of champagne and watched his brother walk away. “Poor Ryeton. Everyone keeps asking him when he’s going to produce an heir. Not a problem you or I will ever have, is it, Friday, what?”

Jack and Sadie shared an uncomfortable glance. If Archer only knew.

“Ah, there’s Lady Olivia Clark,” Lord Archer remarked without waiting for a reply from Jack. “I must go flirt with her or the poor girl will be devastated. Excuse me.”

Sadie stepped closer to Jack as the dark-haired man left to join a young woman with glossy hair and wide eyes who smiled at his approach. The girl’s chaperone, however, didn’t look nearly so impressed.

“He’s something of a character,” Sadie remarked, still watching the couple.

Jack turned to her. “I like him.”

“You would.” But there was no censure in her tone, only teasing.

He offered his arm. “Care to take a turn about the room with me, Madame Moon?”

“I would be honored, Mr. Friday.” She set her hand upon his arm, delighting in the feel of the musculature beneath his coat and shirt. He was such a perfect specimen of manhood. No other was more glorious or perfect despite being humanly flawed.

As they walked, Sadie was aware of people occasionally watching them. No doubt they whispered about them as well. It hadn’t been that long since the charity auction and gossips still speculated as to what had really happened during that hour in Vienne La Rieux’s salon. However, this public appearance would at least paint Sadie as a pursued woman rather than a loose one—a fact she appreciated. Her business depended on her having a decent reputation. A little scandal could make a woman charming and terribly popular. Too much made her a pariah.

Jack led her to the terrace doors and a footman opened them so they might step out into the damp night air. Here they could talk in relative privacy, but still be seen.

“Did I see Lady Gosling pounce on you?” Jack asked once they stood facing each other. “What did she say?”

Sadie glanced up, frowning at his urgent tone. “Nothing. She wanted me to say hello to you.” She rolled her eyes. “She seemed odd, though. More so than usual.”

Jack made a scoffing sound. “I bet she did.”

So she’d been right to be suspicious. Her heart twisted in the most awful fashion. She couldn’t help it; her first thought was that he’d lied when he’d claimed nothing had happened between him and Lady Gosling. “Jack, what’s going on?”

“Come with me.” Hand on her arm he led her further away from the doors, toward the balustrade. They could still be seen by anyone else who stepped outside and looked, but weren’t in plain sight and certainly not within earshot.

“I have to tell you something,” he said in a tone that sent a shiver of dread down her spine.

She couldn’t contain her fears. “Did you sleep with her?”

He looked horrified. “I told you before, God, no.”

That gave her more satisfaction than she would have thought possible. “Then what?”

“She knows.”

She stared at him blankly.

“Damn it, Sadie. She
knows
.” He glanced up, obviously to make sure no one was about. Then he whispered,
“About that lovely Farrington couple from Russell Street. You know, the ones who got themselves into a wee bit of trouble? And she wants one hundred thousand and passage for two to New York to keep her silence.”

Once, when she was young, one of Sadie’s cousins had struck her in the chest with a bag of seed potatoes. The blow had sucked the air from her lungs, much like she felt right now.

One hundred thousand pounds? “Do you have that much?”

Jack made a face. “Yes, but I’m not eager to part with it.”

Sadie turned her back to the terrace doors even though they were still very much alone. She caught Jack’s arm. The reality of him kept her from imagining this was all a dream. Jack had one hundred thousand pounds? Presumably more than one hundred thousand. Dear God. And why was that what stuck in her mind when there was a larger drama unfolding? “How did she find out?”

“I don’t know. She got suspicious the night of the charity auction and had me investigated.” He looked disgusted—with both Lady Gosling and himself. “Had me followed, no doubt.”

Followed? But why? Why would Lady Gosling care if she and Jack shared a history? The same could be said for many people, especially those of the upper class. Something about this didn’t feel right. There had to be more. Was it just jealousy? Thinking Sadie was competition for Jack? That didn’t ring true either, though it certainly made sense.

“But what made her suspicious? You wouldn’t be the first man to offer up money for a pretty face.”

“You’re a damn sight more than pretty, ducks.”

She smiled at his sincerity, but then turned back to the matter at hand. “How could she be suspicious of that unless she’s seen us together before?”

“Maybe she overheard us talking here, that first night?”

“It’s possible,” Sadie allowed, but her mind kept reaching. “Maybe she knows us.”

“How’s that even possible?”

“I’ve always thought there was something familiar about her, as though I know her from somewhere else. Somewhere a long time ago.” Bloody hell, why couldn’t she remember? It was right there…

“If she knows us, maybe we know her.” Jack’s eyes brightened with a predatory gleam. “She was familiar with Covent Garden.”

Covent Garden. That felt right. It fit with the notion that she’d had in the past of feeling there was something familiar about Lady Gosling. “I could ask Helen.”

“Do that. I’ll do some digging of my own, see if I can find out the identity of her traveling companion.” He wrapped a strong, comforting hand around her upper arm. “I don’t want to pay her, Sadie, but I will to keep her from making trouble for you all over London.”

She could kiss him for being so sweet and protective. “Trouble for you too.”

He shrugged. “So far she doesn’t know who Jack
Farrington really is. Provided the old man doesn’t find out I’m back, it doesn’t matter.”

Sadie swallowed. Now was the perfect time to confess. “Would it be so bad if he knew?”

A fierce scowl seized his brow. “Sometimes I wonder. There are days that I would love to flaunt what I’ve become in his face, and others where I like my life as uncomplicated as it is.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t remember Jack Farrington being all that complicated.” All joking aside, she knew it would be complicated if people discovered Jack’s identity. He would be a peer of the realm and she would still be a tea-leaf reader.

He moved toward her, closing in like a slinky cat. “What about poor Mr. Friday? What do you think of him?”

Sadie smiled as his arm slipped around her. “I think he’s a rogue and a scoundrel. And I’ve always had a soft spot for both.”

His head lowered toward hers, and Sadie pressed a hand against his chest to stop him. “Someone might see.”

Jack grinned. “I hope so.”

All thoughts of confession disappeared as Jack’s lips touched hers. Later, when they were alone and he could rage all he wanted, then she would tell him. When she could beg his forgiveness without all society hearing their business, she’d confide what she’d done.

“We should return,” she said when their lips finally parted. She was breathless and giddy. “I wouldn’t want you to do all your courting in private.”

Jack offered her his arm and they headed back inside the warm ballroom. They’d just begun to approach Lord Archer when Vienne intercepted them. She had the oddest expression on her face, and she didn’t even look at Sadie.

“Monsieur Friday, forgive me, but there is a gentleman here who would like to make your acquaintance.”

“Of course,” Jack replied. Then to Sadie, “Do you mind?”

She shook her head. “Of course not.” She glanced at her friend who still would not meet her gaze. What the devil?

Vienne led them to a small group of gentlemen who were chatting animatedly. She placed her hand on the arm of a gray-haired man who had his back to them. “I found Mr. Friday for you, my lord.”

Sadie’s heart leaped into her throat. She knew who the man was even before he turned, but when his gold-green eyes locked with Jack’s there could be no mistake. He was shorter and older, but blood always told true, and there was no denying those eyes or his nose or even the shape of his jaw.

Jack looked as though he’d been punched in the throat as he froze beside her. She tightened her grip on his arm as she too stared at a face she’d thought never to see again.

“Thank you, Madame La Rieux,” the Earl of Garret said in a loud, clear voice, “for bringing me my grandson.”

J
ack was aware of conversation buzzing around him, the increased volume and fervor of which could only mean that others had heard what his grandfather said to Vienne La Rieux.

And it felt, in a way, that everything he’d built on his own was now ruined, forever tarnished by the public knowledge that he was indeed a peer of the realm. He knew this wasn’t true, of course, because Tryst was the son of a duke, but he felt it nevertheless.

He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t seem to think of words at all. All he could do was stand there like an idiot and stare at his grandfather, the Earl of Garret. He’d known this day would come eventually, that was why he hadn’t returned to England since discovering Sadie had left him. Odd, but he didn’t feel nearly as angry as he thought he would, and his grandfather didn’t look nearly as smug as he’d imagined. It was strangely relieving to have the truth out.

The old man was of course older than he remem
bered. His thick hair, once the same color as Jack’s was completely gray, but still thick and worn in a slightly outdated style that only made him more imposing. He was shorter now, but his spine was still straight as an arrow, and his eyes were still as cold and unyielding as they’d ever been.

At least he had the satisfaction of facing him as a man, and a successful one at that. He had his own fortune, one that he’d built with his own goddamn hands.

“I think,” said Ryeton, coming to the rescue, “that this conversation should be played out in private. Madame La Rieux, I assume you can see to that?”

Jack barely glanced at the French woman who replied that she could indeed. He simply fell in line with the others as they left the ballroom. He couldn’t quite focus on anything, but he saw every face that stared at him as he walked by. And then he felt warm fingers curl around his own. He turned his head to see Sadie by his side, tall and concerned. He smiled ruefully at her. She smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He couldn’t blame her. The old man had been a complete bastard to her before and after their marriage.

They ended up in La Rieux’s office, a richly appointed room that managed to be imposing and stately and still feminine.

“Friday.” Ryeton’s deep voice cut through the haze that permeated Jack’s brain. “Is this true? Is Garret your grandfather?”

The old man didn’t look pleased at having his honor questioned. “His name is Farrington,” the earl remarked
coolly. “Friday is the foolish name he made up when he ran away ten years ago.”

Jack was dimly aware of the others watching him, watching the old man. He fixed his gaze on Sadie. His grandfather hadn’t mentioned her at all. Of course, he wouldn’t. He never wanted the marriage, never acknowledged it. He certainly wouldn’t bring it up now. Jack could, however. He could make his own announcement and ensure that Sadie stayed with him forever, but even in his fuzzy state, he knew that was not the right thing to do. He lifted his gaze to the duke’s. “It’s true.” And then, just in case anyone thought he referred to his name change, “He is my grandfather.”

Ryeton arched a brow. “Then I’m certain the two of you have much to discuss that does not warrant an audience. We will leave you to your privacy.”

Jack’s head jerked up and he turned his attention to Sadie. She untwined her fingers from his and stepped away. He wanted to keep her with him, but that wasn’t the manly thing to do. And it wasn’t fair to her. She looked so sad, though, as if this was good-bye for them. Forever. It hurt just to look at her.

The others hesitantly moved to do the duke’s bidding. Sadie was the last one out of the room. She didn’t turn to glance over her shoulder at him, and the click of the latch as the door closed behind her seemed to echo throughout the room like the tolling of a death knell.

It also snapped him out of the damned fog he was in.

“That was quite the entrance,” he remarked, turning
to the man who had practically raised him. “I trust you accomplished what you set out to achieve?”

His grandfather opened his arms—not for an embrace, though, never that—and stood there in a Christ-like pose. “Can a man not journey to London to see his own grandson?”

“You didn’t come to see me,” he replied. “You came to teach me a lesson.”

The earl didn’t seem the least bit offended by his coldness, nor did he seem entirely smug. In fact, he looked as tired and relieved as Jack felt. “It’s time for you to take your rightful place as my heir. It’s time for you to do your duty to your family.”

Of course it was. It was time because the old man decreed it such, and Jack had no say in it. He’d never had any say in anything—until he married Sadie. That act of defiance had been the most liberating thing he’d ever done.

And then he’d walked away from it because he still felt as though he had to prove himself worthy, both to her and the old man. Now, he had to admit that given the chance to do it all over again he wouldn’t have given his grandfather that much power. He might still have gone, but he would have taken Sadie with him, or come back sooner. That he would have done differently.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he informed the older man. “I’m not giving up my life just because you showed your hand.”

The old man shrugged. “I don’t care what you do so long as you do what is expected of you. By tomorrow morning all of London will know you as my heir and this ridiculous game of yours will be over.”

A game. That was how he looked at all Jack had achieved. He hadn’t gone off to make his own way in the world, he had been playing a silly game.

Bastard. He couldn’t even have the decency to be proud of what Jack had accomplished. He wasn’t just a lazy, spoiled brat. He’d built something and his grandfather couldn’t even bring himself to acknowledge it. But then, that shouldn’t be a surprise.

But instead of lashing out, or arguing, he asked, “How did you know I was in England?”

“How do you think I found out you had returned?” A gaze much the same color and intensity of his own pinned him to the spot. “Who knows your true identity who would also know how to contact me?”

The answer struck hard and fast, leaving an awful taste in his mouth. “Sadie.”

The old man smiled, that self-assured smug curving of his lips that Jack always despised. “Of course. You shouldn’t be angry with her, though. It was part of our arrangement. I gave her a tidy sum to start a new life in return for her alerting me if you returned to England. Frankly, I’m surprised she lived up to her end.”

“You’re the reason she left me.”

His grandfather shot him a pitying look. “She came to me after that. Her leaving was entirely your fault, boy-o.”

Jack turned away, letting the truth seep through to his bones. Sadie had betrayed him, and he could scarcely fault her for it. She’d despised him enough to refuse the money he sent, but had no problem taking blunt from his grandfather. She must have hated him so much to do that. She must have been so hurt.

No, he didn’t blame her for fulfilling her part of a business arrangement, or for thinking the worst of him. What he blamed her for was not telling him herself, for not confessing once their relationship had begun to heal.

He blamed her for not trusting him. For concealing a truth that affected them both so very, very much. If only she’d said
something
he might have been better prepared for this moment. He wouldn’t feel like a stupid boy caught doing something naughty, waiting for his grandfather to get his cane.

“Wipe that look off your face,” the old man demanded, all smugness gone from his stern face. “You act as though you’re being led to slaughter rather than accepting your place amongst the aristocracy of Ireland and England.”

“You were the one who said I didn’t deserve that place.”

“Whether or not you deserve it is immaterial. It is yours and you will accept it. You will assume your rightful place and by the end of next Season, you will have found a wife.”

“I already have a wife.”

His grandfather made a scoffing noise. “That’s easily
remedied. I took care of it then, I can make it disappear now.”

“You couldn’t buy her off ten years ago. What makes you think you can buy her off today?”

“Because she’s not some lovesick cow hanging off your every word now, my boy.” A hint of smugness returned. “Because she’s a practical woman. And because in her heart she knows the difference between what she wants and what’s for the best—a difference you best be able to determine for yourself very soon.”

Jack stiffened. “You have no control over me, old man. I might have to assume the title forced upon me, but beyond that, I don’t answer to anyone but myself.”

“Fight me all you want, boy. It doesn’t matter. Sadie O’Rourke is a smart gel who knows her place, which is more than can be said for you. I wouldn’t hope for anymore rendezvous in Russell Street were I you.”

Rather than react with anger or petulance, Jack smiled mockingly. “Spying on me, grandfather? How very common.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed. “You only married her to spite me, or have the years made you forget?”

“I married her because I loved her.”

“And left her because…?” The old man arched a brow. “Because getting back at me meant more to you than she did. Don’t kid yourself, boy. Do the poor gel a justice and let her go. You’ve done enough damage where she’s concerned. Time to grow up and become a man.”

Jack wanted to belt him. Honest to God, it was only a faint grasp on propriety that stopped his fist. “What do you mean, ‘enough damage’?”

His grandfather shook his head. “I’m not going to argue any longer with you. I’m a tired old man. Should you decide you want to speak civilly, I’m staying at the family house in Berkeley Square. You remember how to find the place, don’t you?”

Jack’s glare deepened. “I do.”

The old man sketched a bow. “Excellent. Good evening Lord Gerard.”

“Fuck you.”

But his grandfather didn’t hear him, or pretended not to, either way it infuriated him.

He stood there fuming as the old man took his leave. He didn’t know who he was more livid at—himself, Sadie, or the old man. No, wait. The old man.

“Are you all right?” came Sadie’s soft voice.

He turned to face her. She stood in the open door, hands clasped in front of her. He reckoned the expression on her face was similar to the one Eve wore after Adam took hell from God for eating the apple.

“Been better,” he replied honestly as she stepped inside. The sight of her drained most of the anger from him. She’d always had that affect—things always seemed better when she was there. “Why didn’t you tell me you had contacted him?”

She shrugged, ivory shoulders smooth in the warm light. “I tried to a couple of times, but something always
interrupted. I guess I hoped it would just go away. You said yourself that you didn’t think he’d come for you even if he knew you were here.”

“Bad gamble,” he admonished lightly as that oddly relieved feeling crept back. He no longer had to lead a double life. No longer had anything to hide. But he wasn’t going to use the name Farrington again. Old man, be damned.

She nodded. “It was. I’m sorry.”

He watched for a moment, noticing the strain around her mouth, a certain sadness in her eyes. In a moment, he had a flash of insight—a sudden understanding that scared him more than anything else ever had.

“Are you a practical woman, Sadie?” he asked.

Her brow puckered. “I like to think so. Why?”

“My grandfather said you were a practical woman. He said you wouldn’t stand in the way of me doing my duty.” She wasn’t stupid; he didn’t have to fill in the rest. And now he knew why she’d looked so pleased when he talked of allowing the title to pass to his cousin.

Her smooth cheeks paled slightly. “He was right. I won’t. And if you care for me at all, you won’t ask me to.”

“Sadie…” He moved toward her, but she took a step back.

“Two different worlds we come from, Jack. Ten years ago I was foolish enough to think it didn’t matter, but I’ve had plenty of time to realize that it does and always has.” She smiled sadly at him, but there was no regret or recrimination in her wide eyes. “You left me to prove
something to your grandfather. You left because you just
had
to make a fortune. I don’t blame you for that. How could I expect you to give up everything to be with me? I can’t be a lady anymore than you can bring yourself to believe a person’s fate can be revealed in a clump of leaves.”

“I would give up everything to be with you.” And by Christ he meant it!

Her hand on his chest stopped him from getting any closer. “No, you wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let you. I’ll be your lover, Jack, and I’ll always be your friend, but I won’t be your countess. I can’t.”

“Damn it, Sadie. You’re my wife.”

“Only here.” She tapped his chest, just over his heart. “There isn’t a scrap of paper to prove it anywhere.” His grandfather had seen to that.

He wrapped an arm around her, then the other, determined not to let her go. “I won’t let you go.”

Soft hands came up to cup his face. Her thumb brushed against his lips as she gazed up at him, her eyes also bright with unshed tears. “You can’t always have what you want, Jack. You tried that once before and it didn’t work. I’m not going to be the one who pays for it when you try again. It hurt too much last time.”

“It’s different now.
We’re
different now.”

“Are we? I’m still a girl who reads tea leaves and you still don’t believe in them. You’re still a boy trying to bend the world to your will. It was lovely trying to pretend otherwise, but the game is over. We have to go back to reality now.”

“No,” he insisted, trying to hold her close as she squirmed to get away. “There has to be a way.”

“Please let me go.”

It was the smallness of her voice that loosened his arms, and the sight of a tear trickling down her cheek that made him release her altogether. She didn’t say anything else; she simply pivoted on her heel and ran from the room as though hell itself was chasing her.

Jack was still standing there, stunned and silent when Vienne La Rieux came in sometime later. One ginger brow arched at the sight of him. “I thought you’d left.”