Dancing With A Devil (17 page)

After one solid hour of boxing and being knocked down four times in a row, his jaw bloody well ached and his lower lip pulsed with every crimson drop that dripped from the previously received cut. Trent rolled onto his side, spit out a mouthful of blood and slowly opened his eyes. How had things grown tangled so fast? A shadow loomed beside him. He didn’t move. He knew well enough his friend stood above him, likely smirking. Trent had spent enough days and nights in France holed up on assignment for Prinny with Dinnisfree that not even blindness would stop him from recognizing his friend’s rattling inhalation of breath. It had a certain short, short, long pattern and occurred whenever his friend was bone weary.

With a grunt, Trent pushed himself to an upright position and grasped the outstretched hand in his face. “Come on.” Amusement laced Dinnisfree’s tone before his face pinched up to display his discomfort. “If you care to talk now, I’ll endeavor to listen.” The duke’s voice sounded strained, like the mere act of what he’d just offered made him ill.

Trent staggered to his feet, and without saying a word he brushed past his friend and lumbered under the rope of the ring. As he was passing the entrance into Gritton’s, the door opened and his footman strode inside.

Trent came to halt in front of Harris. “What the devil are you doing here? Is something amiss?”

Harris held out a cream missive. “I’m not sure, my lord. Mr. Pickering ordered me to bring this here to you at once. He said to tell you specifically the lady’s coachman told Mr. Pickering the matter was urgent and you needed to get this right away.”

Frowning, Trent took the letter. Dinnisfree drew near and peered over his shoulder. “Is it from your mother or cousins?”

Trent turned the letter over to rip it open and froze. At the top in perfect curvy writing was Audrey’s name.
Jesus.
Something had to be wrong. He ripped it open and gaped. Flicking his glance to Harris, he said, “You may leave.”

His footman nodded and went out the way he had come in. Dinnisfree raised a questioning eyebrow at Trent. “Who is it from?”

Trent motioned to the wooden bench in the far corner of the room. The two of them walked silently over and sat down, well away from the other men at Gritton’s. “It’s from Lady Audrey. She says there is an urgent matter and she must see me tonight at my cousin’s ball.”

Dinnisfree cocked his head. “And will you?”

Will I?
He gripped the paper in his hand and thought. The smack of fist against flesh rang out like a drum accompanied by a rough underlying tune of butchered English and interesting curse words. He should not meet her, but he would. The compulsion to ride directly to her house, learn what urgent matter her note referred to, and fix everything for her was almost irresistible. Except he couldn’t ride there and he knew it. Bitterness filled his mouth with a sour taste.

“
I should not meet her in light of the new turn of events in my life, but I will. This one last time to ensure she is okay and to explain to her somehow that our relationship must be more distant.”

“
What words will you use to explain that?” Light humor laced Dinnisfree’s tone.

Trent shook his head and glanced down at his battered red hands. “I don’t know. But I will have to find the right words. I cannot pursue her when my wife may very well still be alive.”

Dinnisfree grunted. “If you want her so badly, have her. From what I observed the lady seemed to want you as much as you desire her.”

Trent’s fingers automatically curled into fists. “She is not the type of woman to simply be taken.”

“
Do not get your hackles up. All I’m saying is that if I were in your shoes, I’d just seduce her and be done with it. What matter is it that your duplicitous wife may or may not be still alive? It is not as if you intended to marry Lady Audrey anyway, so I do not see the difference.”

Trent’s whole body tensed. “I do not want to talk about it anymore.”

“
My God.” Dinnisfree’s eyes narrowed. “You were planning on marrying her. Do you love her?”

“
No,” Trent snapped. “I am incredibly fond of her, think she is brilliant, actually, and since I desire her I thought a marriage between us could actually be quite convenient.”

“
Yes, I see. Marriages of convenience are excellent ideas. She gets a protector, and you get a serviceable, delectable woman who would never have expected any sort of soft emotions from you.”

Trent glared in his friend’s direction. “I don’t like your sarcastic tone.”

“
Sorry. In my defense, a mocking tone is better than actually telling your friend they are a bloody fool, is it not?”

“
Yes, I suppose it is,” Trent said, filling his own response with a sharp edge. “I knew what I was doing.”

“
So you say. Do you know what you’re going to do now?”

Trent hadn’t allowed himself to really consider his future, because he knew what honor bound him to do and there was no part of him that wanted to find Gwyneth alive. Reluctantly, he met Dinnisfree’s gaze. “I’ll go to France and see if I can locate Gwyneth.”

“
And if you do?”

The question reverberated in his head. “I’ll ensure she’s safe, give her enough money to live her miserable life out on and then come back here and live out the rest of my miserable life.” Trent jerked the towel off his lap and swiped at the sweat trickling down his forehead as Dinnisfree stared at him with that annoying assessing gaze he liked to use when he was trying to make a point.

“
Sounds rather cheery and promising.”

“
Do you have a better suggestion?” Trent snapped.

“
You could tell Lady Audrey the truth.”

“
You know I can’t,” he growled. “It’s not as if I can explain how it is I married a woman who turned out to be a double-crossing spy whose real name I did not even know when I married her. She’d want to know how I know such things.”

“
Good point,” Dinnisfree said. “Tell her a version of the truth.”

Trent shook his head. “No. No matter how much I want her, I would not make myself an adulterer nor would I put her in such a tenuous situation as not to actually be my legal wife. What if we had children? They could be bastards.”

“
I’m sorry. I did not think it all the way through. I tend to do as I wish and damned the consequences or moral implications.”

Trent clasped Dinnisfree’s arm. “You do not give yourself enough credit.”

“
What if I’m wrong and just saw a woman who looked almost exactly like Gwyneth? Would you marry Lady Audrey then? Do you want me to scare away any possible suitors while you’re gone?”

A strangled laugh escaped Trent. “I’d like to say yes, but God only knows how long it might take me to be certain whether Gwyneth is dead or alive. I’d be a selfish cad to prevent Lady Audrey a happy marriage if the right gentleman comes along, knowing I may very well still be married. No. I have to let her go. Do me two favors, though.”

“
Name it.”

“
Her father is going to try and force her to marry a man she does not want, according to Sutherland.”

A wicked smile pulled at the corners of Dinnisfree’s mouth. “You want me to persuade the man not to ask her.”

Trent nodded. “I do, indeed. I’ll get the man’s name to you before I leave.”

“
Consider it done.”

“
Nothing nefarious,” Trent amended, seeing the gleam in Dinnisfree’s eyes.

“
I’m offended,” Dinnisfree said cheekily. “I can be persuasive without being nefarious.

Satisfied, Trent nodded. “Favor number two has to do with Thortonberry.”

Dinnisfree smirked. “I thought it might.”

“
Keep him away from her.”

“
Have you considered you might particularly dislike Thortonberry and not been giving him a chance to prove himself worthy of her, because it is her he is after?”

“
No.” Trent left no room for argument with his hard tone. “I have not. I overheard the man say he would never be loyal to a wife. She does not deserve that.”

“
There are worse things, my friend. She could end up married to a man who beats her or verbally abuses her or treats her as if she is less than nothing. I frankly do not see Thortonberry as that sort of man.”

Trent jerked to his feet and glared down at his friend. “I don’t care what sort of man you see him as. Just do as I have asked.”

Before Dinnisfree could reply, Trent stormed to the locker room. He could not explain to his friend that the thought of Audrey being in a marriage that made her unhappy twisted his insides. Then again, the thought of her happy in another man’s arms twisted his insides as well. “Hell and damnation,” he muttered.

Later that night after making the necessary polite greetings at his cousin Gillian’s fete, Trent made his way to the terrace to meet Audrey. Tension vibrated through him with every step he took. He needed the exact right words to say to her, so she would not walk away from here tonight doubting herself. Damned if he had any idea what he was going to say. If only he could simply tell her the truth, but the truth was something he couldn’t give her. Tonight would have been so different if Dinnisfree hadn’t gone to France and seen the woman he thought might be Gwyneth. Trent pushed the useless thought away. If Gwyneth was alive, he couldn’t offer Audrey marriage, so there was no point in lingering on what might have been.

He would never hold Audrey in his arms and caress her bare silken skin. Nor would he ever plunge himself inside her or feel her laughter tickling his neck or listen to her witty rejoinders that always made him laugh. He would never fill her belly with his child.

He tensed. Where the hell had that thought come from? Not once after he had concocted his plan to marry her had he considered the children they might have, so why now? Angry with himself, he focused outward as he stood near the terrace door for a moment and studied the chattering, milling crowd. Somewhere in this room was a decent man who had the ability and desire to marry and offer Audrey the world and maybe even his trust. He was not that man. Had never been that man. Perhaps things had turned out for the best, yet still, the idea of her marrying another man, even a good one, made Trent’s heart constrict oddly.

Opening the door, he stepped into the cool moonlit night then took a deep breath, filling his lungs until they ached. Something felt wrong. He paced the silent terrace, examining his thoughts and releasing his breath bit by bit. It was the same deep breathing ritual he’d come to rely on in the past when he was on assignment in France.

As the last bit of air expelled from his lungs, he frowned. The problem was he was bloody selfish. He longed to feel Audrey’s soft body underneath his and he knew he never could. The sooner tonight was over, the better.

He moved to the outer edge of the terrace near the garden and away from the windows or door. No one could see them in this alcove and if anyone chanced onto the terrace he would hear the door open and move them farther into cover onto the garden path. The terrace door creaked open as if connected with his thoughts, and Audrey emerged into the moonlight and blazing torches, a tormenting vision of beauty in green velvet that contrasted alluringly with her creamy skin. As she neared him, the heart-stopping picture she presented made a physical ache burn within him. He took a ragged breath and tried not to stare, but it was hard. Her emerald eyes sparkled and her low-cut gown displayed her ample, creamy breasts to perfection. A bolt of lust shot through him as it always did when he was near her, but this time the strangest sense of pride accompanied the lust. Ridiculous. She was not his.

If he were smart, he would keep distance between them, hear what her problem was, tell her they could no longer carry on as they had and depart the terrace before the dance that had just begun in the ballroom came to completion. Dread cut him to the bone, but was also the thing that made him open his mouth to be done with it. “Audrey―”

She stepped close to him and into the shadows. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

He scrambled to find some kind words to say to put the needed distance between them, but her flowery perfume filled his nose and made it difficult to remember to control himself, let alone think how to terminate their relationship. All he wanted to do was circle his arms protectively around her; instead, he forced himself to step back. There was just enough moonlight that he could see the hurt expression that crossed her face and it felt as if a knife had been driven into his heart.