Loving Lord Ash (22 page)

Ash took a healthy swallow of brandy. He did not wish to discuss Jess. As the proverb said, attack was the best form of defense. “Yes, but you are the one with real news, Jack. Tell me how you find yourself with a dog and, more importantly, a wife. I don’t believe either one had yet entered your life when last I saw you.”

“That’s right,” Ned said, frowning. “Can you believe Jack first met Frances at the Crowing Cock the night he left the castle? She was traveling to London disguised as a boy.” He scowled at Jack. “It was an incredibly dangerous plan.”

Jack scowled back at Ned. “Yes, but she had what she thought was a good reason for her masquerade, Lord Worry, and nothing dreadful happened to her.”

“Except she was compelled to wed you.”

“She did
not
have to marry me.”

Ned sniffed. “It was the only way to repair her reputation.”

“It was not.” Jack had lost his customary good humor. “Mama and Lady Rothmarsh had addressed the issue, as well you know.”

Ned shrugged. “They’d done their best, but I still think if you hadn’t married her, Frances would have had an uncomfortable time of it.”

Shakespeare and Fluff started to whine, clearly unsettled by the harsh voices. Jack looked like he was on the verge of throwing his brandy into Ned’s face. From there the “discussion” would undoubtedly degenerate into fisticuffs.

Ash did not relish separating the two with a fireplace poker as he’d done on one occasion back at the castle. “But are you happy, Jack? That’s what’s important.”

Both Ned’s and Jack’s attention snapped back to him. Damn. He’d made a serious tactical error.

“Yes, actually, I’m very happy,” Jack said. “Are you?”

“Er . . .” He loosened his cravat. The room was suddenly infernally warm.

“That’s what we were discussing when you came in, Ash, as you probably surmised.” Ned leaned toward him. “Have you finally resolved your difficulties with Jess, then?”

“Ah . . .” There was no point in lying; his brothers would root out the full story eventually. Well, likely in a matter of minutes. They’d had years of experience at uncovering each other’s falsehoods and partial truths. “Not exactly, but we have agreed to work on our problems.”

Jack smacked his forehead and looked at the ceiling, clearly not believing he was related to such a blockhead. “So why the hell did you bring her to Town, if you haven’t put your marriage back on rock solid ground? At the first whiff of trouble, society will be on you like the ravening pack of wolves it is, tearing your union with Jess to shreds.”

That
was encouraging. Fluff whined, and he stroked the dog’s head.

“Yes, Ash,” Ned said, “why didn’t you take Jess to the castle and the relative privacy of the country?”

At least Ned and Jack were now in agreement about something.

“I thought Mama and Father were still at the castle. The only person I expected to find here was you, Jack, and I was hoping you could tell us how to avoid the ton.”

Jack snorted. “There’s no way in hell you’re going to dodge the gabble-grinders now, my dear brother. I suspect Mama is making plans as we speak to trot you and Jess around to all the Season’s events.”

That’s what he’d been afraid of. “Perhaps if I reason with her, Mama will let us go back to the castle by ourselves.”

Ned and Jack stared at him.

“Reason with the Duchess of Love when she thinks she can finally show all the old cats that her oldest son and the heir to the duchy is truly, happily married?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “How much detail are you willing to share with Mama?”

Ash shifted on the couch, causing Fluff to look up at him. He didn’t wish to tell Mama anything. “I’ll merely say Jess and I still have a few things to work out, and we need privacy to do so.”

Jack’s other eyebrow went up. “And you think that will work?”

No, he didn’t. It
should
work. Mama was a reasonable woman—except when it came to matters of the heart; then there was no fathoming her thought processes.

“Mama probably feels she’s the best person to help you solve your marital difficulties,” Ned said. “She
is
the one who pens
Venus’s Love Notes
.”

Ash’s stomach twisted as it always did when he heard those words. “That thing? No one actually reads it, do they?”

“Oh, yes, they do,” Jack said. “Avidly, though fortunately not publicly. And since its readership is largely female, we can usually avoid hearing about it. Jess, however, may have a harder time of it.”

“Ellie confessed that some girl hinted to her . . . well, said outright, really . . .” Ned’s face turned red and he took a quick swallow of brandy.

“It was Miss Patton, one of the boldest of the society misses,” Jack said. “She told Ellie and Frances how lucky they were to have married us, since, being the Duchess of Love’s sons, we must have made losing their virginity quite painless. Frances reported the incident to me in horror.”

“Bloody hell.
This
is how society women behave these days?” Ash’s stomach tightened into a hard knot. How would Jess react if some spoiled daughter of the nobility said such a thing to her? She had quite a temper, but she wouldn’t admit she hadn’t had the dubious pleasure of being deflowered by a Valentine, would she?

At least she didn’t know his darkest secret. For some reason, she seemed to think he was a rake.

“It’s the way Miss Patton behaves,” Jack said. “I’d advise avoiding her if at all possible—and definitely keep Jess away from her.”

“I shall do my best.”

“Unfortunately that will be a bit diff icult. Her mother is one of Mama’s circle. Miss Patton is the youngest of Lady Widley’s brood and quite spoilt.”

“And she apparently reads all of Mama’s scribbling.” Ned sighed heavily. “Ellie says the girl can recite some of the choicest bits by heart.”

This was terrible news, indeed. They all stared at their brandy glasses in silence for a moment.

“But the main problem,” Jack said finally, “is now everyone knows you’re in Town. If you leave precipitously, it will set the gabble-grinders to speculating, which is never a good thing. You’ll be all the old cats talk about for weeks.”

“Wait a moment.” Jack was making no sense now. “We just arrived a few hours ago. No one knows we are here.”

“Ah, Ash.” Jack shook his head. “You don’t know the ways of London. Eyes and ears are everywhere. What happens outside the Duke of Greycliffe’s house is of intense interest to all London society. I’ll wager that if we went to White’s right now, we’d hear every last man discussing the Marquis of Ashton’s arrival and speculating whether the woman with him was his wife.”

“No! You’re exaggerating.” God, he hoped Jack was exaggerating, but even his admittedly limited experience of society made him fear his younger brother was correct. Zeus, he hated London.

Ned sent him a sympathetic look. “I wanted to go back to the country almost immediately, too, but Jack and Father convinced me to stay. They said it was important to attend some social events so the gossips could see me with Ellie and stop making up outlandish stories.” He smiled ruefully. “I hate to say it, but I do think they were correct.”

“Of course we were correct. And it is especially important for you and Jess to show yourselves, Ash,” Jack said. “The gossips have been speculating about your marital status for eight years. I told you back at the castle that things had reached a fevered pitch with the approach of your thirtieth birthday. The betting book at White’s is full of wagers, and more are being added every day.” Jack shrugged. “Hell, there are probably at least twenty new ones since you stepped out of that hired coach.” He reached for the brandy bottle. “Care for some more?”

Ash extended his glass and watched the amber liquid splash into it. If only he could turn back the clock and decide to go to the castle instead of London.

He took a large swallow. No, if only he could go back further in time and decide not to marry Jess. His life would be so much simpler. He would have wed one of the girls his mother had found for him and might now be the proud papa of three or four sons.

And be completely miserable. He stroked Fluff’s ears. The truth was, all the society girls had seemed brainless and annoying.

He wouldn’t have wasted eight years of his life as a bloody virgin if Jess could be so easily replaced.

“And there’s another problem,” Jack said, exchanging a significant glance with Ned.

“Another problem?” Zeus, didn’t he have enough problems?

“Yes. Percy.”

“Ah, yes. Percy.”

After he’d dropped Jess at Blackweith Manor eight years ago, Ash had gone back to the castle to beat Percy to a pulp, duels being, unfortunately, illegal. But he hadn’t had the opportunity—Percy had left. He wasn’t even in London. Months went by before Ash saw the man again, and by then he’d heard enough rumors about what Jess was doing at the manor to conclude she’d likely seduced Percy rather than the other way round.

And then, of course, Ned had married Percy’s sister, and Ash had been forced to learn to tolerate him as part of the family.

“Percy hates you, Ash.” Ned had his familiar, worried expression. “Even Cicely noticed that, though she never understood why.”

Jack snorted again. “Well, I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, but Cicely wasn’t the most perceptive of individuals. The problem was painfully obvious.”

Ned scowled at Jack. “Then perhaps you could explain it to me.” He looked at Ash. “Or you can.”

“Actually, I’m as much in the dark as you are. Pray, enlighten us, Jack.”

“You mean you really don’t know?” Jack was looking at him as if he were a complete blockhead, damn it.

“No, I don’t. I assumed he didn’t care for the fact that I would be duke one day, while he would only be a baronet.”

“Oh, no. That wasn’t it at all, or at least it wasn’t the heart of the problem.”

“So what
was
the heart of the problem, Jack?” Ash didn’t have the patience for guessing games. “Stop being such a pain in the arse and spit it out.”

Fluff whined and gave Ash a concerned look. He smiled as reassuringly as he could and patted him. The heavy weight of the dog’s head in his lap was rather comforting. No wonder Jess was so attached to her pet.

Was she still drying her hair in front of the fire, dressed only in his banyan? Mmm . . . He took a swallow of brandy.

“I really thought you knew,” Jack was saying. “Percy was indeed jealous, but not of your title. He loved Jess, but she was hopelessly in love with you.”

Blast it, taking a drink right then had been an unlucky decision. The brandy that didn’t threaten to choke him shot up his nose. He coughed violently, causing Fluff to yelp and scramble away.

“Are you all right?” Ned leapt up to pound him on the back.

“Y-yes.” He flung up his hand to hold Ned off. “I’m f-fine.”

“You didn’t know, did you?” Jack was shaking his head.

He didn’t know because it wasn’t true. No one but he and Percy—and Jess and Morton and Alfred, the footman—knew what had happened in the studio that day. If Percy had loved Jess, he could have—should have, even if he hadn’t loved her—offered for her. And he’d point-blank refused.

“I very much doubt Percy is jealous of me because of Jess.”

“I don’t know, Ash,” Ned said. “Ellie told me Percy wanted Lady Heldon to seduce you at the house party. She thought he was motivated by something more than idle mischief, and apparently Ophelia thought so, too. Ellie overheard Ophelia tell Percy she couldn’t forgive him his obsession with you, and she ended her long affair with him shortly thereafter.”

“I imagine Ophelia broke off with Percy because she finally realized he wasn’t going to marry her.”

“Look,” Ned said, “Percy hates me, too. He blames me for Cicely’s death—”

“What?” Ash sat up, spilling a drop of brandy. “That’s ridiculous.” Poor Ned had been devastated by losing his wife and child; he certainly didn’t need Percy piling on guilt. “Cicely died in childbirth.”

“Yes, but Percy isn’t completely rational about it. And he isn’t at all happy I cut off his funds—I suspect he’d been sponging off Cicely from the moment we wed. But no matter how much he dislikes me, he’s never tried to cause me trouble the way he does you, Ash.” Ned took a sip of his brandy. “And if you don’t believe me, Ellie, too, thinks Percy loves Jess.”

“He doesn’t.”

Jack almost rolled his eyes. “Whether Percy loves Jess or not,” he said, “he hates you, Ash, and he can cause you far more problems in London than he ever could at the castle.”

Ash drained the last drops of his brandy. “I’m not afraid of Percy.”

“I’m not saying you are; I’m just telling you that you need to watch out for him.” There wasn’t the faintest shadow of a smile on Jack’s lips or in his eyes. “Percy will make your stay in Town—and, perhaps more importantly, Jess’s stay—pure hell. You can’t ignore him here as you do at the castle.”

“I don’t see why I can’t. London is far larger than Greycliffe Castle. There must be more than one event in an evening.”

“Yes, but Percy is certain to find out which one you are attending and be there, too. And even if you could avoid him, what about Jess? Will she ignore Percy?”

Ah, no. He was very much afraid Jess would
not
ignore Percy. That was the problem, wasn’t it?

Ned leaned forward, worry creasing his brow. “Jess always had a prodigious temper, Ash, which she never bothered to control.”

It wasn’t Jess’s temper that concerned him. He was afraid she’d feel a completely different emotion when she saw Percy again.

He would not stand for any trysts.

Jack was nodding. “Precisely. And if she tears into Percy, the London gossips will tear into her. They will have no mercy.”

“What?!”
Anger erupted in Ash’s gut. “They damn well better not bother Jess.” Jess might not love him, she might be little better than a light-skirt, but she
was
his wife. “Jess is the Marchioness of Ashton, and I shall not tolerate anyone being disrespectful to her.”

Jack suddenly grinned and raised his brandy glass. “Thank God for that. Perhaps there’s still hope for you.”