Loving Lord Ash (27 page)

And what the hell did he mean, what Jess truly wanted?

Jess glared at Trendal—she’d never taken well to being reined in—but then she swallowed her spleen and nodded.

Trendal turned back to him. “Lord Ashton, now that you are here I can put Lady Ashton in your capable hands and be off about my business. But before I go, I must warn you about the men we encountered—Sir Percy and George Huntington.”

“Percy.” He must have put a wealth of disgust into his voice, because Trendal nodded.

Well, it was past time to settle the issue of Percy. Ash was very tired of that bounder trying to make mischief for him.

“I know the man only by reputation,” Trendal said, “which is sadly quite black, but Huntington I’ve had the misfortune to see in action. He’s one of those unsavory fellows who likes nothing better than to whisper unfounded, reputation-ruining rumors to as many people as he can. He’s the perfect tool for an unscrupulous individual—in this case, Sir Percy—because he never considers whether something he’s been told is true. He just passes it along, taking great pleasure in seeming to be in the know.”

Ash nodded. Perhaps Trendal had
some
redeeming qualities. “I’ve made Huntington’s acquaintance, and I must agree with your assessment. In fact, I promised him a thorough drubbing if he insulted my wife again. I shall be delighted to make good on that promise.”

Jess reached out to grip his arm. “No, Kit.” Her brow was creased with worry. “I told you he’s reputed to be quite dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’m not going to challenge him to a duel, Jess. I’m just going to bloody his face and blacken his eyes.” He grinned. “And break his blasted nose.”

She dug her fingers into his arm. “But didn’t you hear me? Huntington is supposed to be very handy with his fives.”

“As am I.” He couldn’t decide if he was flattered or insulted that she was so concerned for his safety. He looked at Trendal—the man was laughing.

“I told Jess you’d strip to advantage,” he said, “but she wouldn’t believe me. Apparently you weren’t much of a fighter when you were a boy.”

Jess whipped her hand off Ash’s arm, her face suddenly flushed. “You know I used to have to defend you from Percy.”

“You
thought
you had to defend me.”

“What do you mean? I kept him from hitting you.”

“Only when you pushed yourself between us. I will say that for Percy; he wouldn’t hit a girl. We settled things later, after you’d gone home.”

Jess’s jaw dropped. She was staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.

Trendal made a sound suspiciously like a snigger and took his reins back from William. “I’m off then.” He swung up onto his horse. “I’m sure our paths will cross at some blasted society affair.”

“Yes,” Ash said. “I’m sure they will.” He looked from Jess to Trendal. He didn’t know what had been between them, but he was willing to accept that it hadn’t been physical, at least not recently. Which meant he had to accept that the naked footman had been only Jess’s model when he’d walked in on them at the manor.

All right. He was an artist, too. He understood how drawing—or painting—turned the simple act of looking into an intellectual exercise. And that naked hug—

That was rather harder to swallow, but it was true they hadn’t been kissing or . . . or engaged in any other amorous activity when he’d opened the door. And while Jess’s hair had been down, her clothes had all been in their proper places.

Thank God.

He bowed slightly to Trendal. “I appreciate you protecting my wife from insult this morning.”

Jess bristled. “Don’t be ridiculous. Roger didn’t protect me from anything. I didn’t need protection.”

Trendal inclined his head. “It was my pleasure.”

“Are you both deaf?” Jess’s voice was thick with annoyance. “I said I didn’t need protection. I can protect myself. I’m not afraid of Percy or Huntington.”

Trendal continued to ignore her. “And it was a pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Ashton. May I suggest, since I fear Sir Percy and Huntington will spread tales that I was misbehaving with your wife, we appear to be on good terms when next we meet?”

“Of course you should be on good terms. Nothing happened.” Jess frowned at Ash. “I’ve told my husband that you are only a friend, Roger.”

Perhaps he was being a fool, but for some reason at the moment he believed her. “I can be cordial if you can, Trendal.”

Trendal nodded. “And Jess?”

“How nice you noticed I was still here.”

The man grinned. “Be sure you do tell Lord Ashton about how things are at the manor.”

Trendal rode off, but Ash didn’t bother watching him.

“How things are at the manor?”

“Er, yes.” Her eyes slid over to William, and she leaned closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “It’s a bit, ah, irregular. I’d rather only you heard the tale.”

This was somewhat alarming, but at least she was willing to confide in him. And if she was going to admit to shocking behavior, it was indeed best William not hear it. He turned to the footman.

“I’m going to walk with Lady Ashton, William. Could you take both Fluff and Shakespeare back to Greycliffe House?”

William looked a little doubtful, but clearly he felt Ash should have things out with his wife. “I’ll do my best, my lord. Perhaps Shakespeare can show Fluff how to go on.”

Chapter Fifteen

Listen.

—Venus’s Love Notes

Ash offered Jess his arm and led her off toward a less frequented section of the park. A breeze blew past, sending a loose strand of her hair across her face. She batted it away—and said nothing.

What could be so shocking she couldn’t tell him within William’s hearing?

He was back to thinking her a whore or a madam.

No, he wasn’t. He’d been insanely angry about the naked footman, and yet that had turned out to be wasted emotion. He would wait to see what she had to say before he lost his temper.

If she ever said anything. She did not look like she was going to speak anytime soon.

They strolled along the path, completely alone except for the birds calling in the trees and a pair of squirrels chasing each other over the grass. Ash watched as one caught the other and mounted—

Oh, damnation. He looked away. Well, it
was
spring. It was the time for mating....

Hmm. If Jess had not had relations with Trendal, then she wasn’t increasing, which meant he could—

No. Not yet. He had to hear her story first. Perhaps there was someone besides Trendal who’d visited her bed.

“When you abandoned me at the manor, Dennis—Mr. Walker—took pity on me.”

And he still had some rough patches to smooth over before he could hope for sexual congress with his wife.

“I’m sorry, Jess. That was not well done of me. I should never have left you like that.”

She waved away his apology. “It was a difficult time. I was at fault, too.”

She certainly was. Zeus, he’d forgotten about Percy. There was no way he could have misconstrued
that
encounter, but at least it sounded as if Jess and Percy were no longer on familiar or even civil terms. Still, he’d keep an eye on Jess as they went about to see how she acted around the blackguard.

And around other men. She was so beautiful with her black hair and violet eyes and alabaster skin, she’d likely have all the damn dandies buzzing around her, even though she was past the first blush of youth. Or perhaps
because
she was—and was married and experienced.

They’d best not think she was available for dalliance.

“I was concerned that the household was completely male,” she was saying, “especially after what you thought happened with Percy—”

“What I
saw
happen with Percy.”

She shrugged, clearly unwilling to pursue that topic at the moment. “As I say, I was concerned, but Den—Mr. Walker assured me I was quite safe because . . .” She flushed.

“Because . . . ?” Where the hell was she going with this?

She stopped and turned to face him. “Kit, you must give me your word that you’ll keep what I’m going to tell you secret.”

He didn’t have to do anything. “Why? Has Walker been doing something illegal?”

“No—” She flushed and looked away. When she looked back, her expression had hardened. “No one is being hurt by what happens at the manor.”

Good God, Walker
was
breaking the law. “I will not harbor criminals. I expect my employees to carry out their duties with honor.”

“And Mr. Walker does. He’s very honorable. And kind.”

What the hell could the man be doing? “Is Walker the only one involved?”

“No.”

She was not going to make this easy for him. “I suppose Trendal must be part of it, too, but is there anyone else?”

“Yes.”

Who else could . . . damn. Jess knew about it, and she was clearly uncomfortable with this conversation. “So you participated as well?”

She turned bright red. “No! I couldn’t . . . I mean, that is the whole point . . . well, not precisely, but—” She broke off, crossed her arms, and glared at him. “This is ridiculous. Either you swear you will keep my confidence and do nothing to cause harm to Dennis, Roger, and the rest of the staff, or I shall not say another word.”

“Zeus! The entire staff is involved?” This was what happened when you ignored a property as thoroughly as he’d ignored Blackweith Manor. As the damn proverb had it,
When the cat’s away, the mice will play.
He’d not only been away for eight bloody years, he’d made it exceedingly clear he was never again setting foot in the place. He shouldn’t be surprised the mice had set up their own kingdom. He was lucky the manor hadn’t become notorious.

At least he hoped it wasn’t notorious. Surely even if he hadn’t heard anything, Mama or Father would have, if there was anything to hear.

“Except Helena, my sometimes maid.” Jess’s jaw hardened. “So will you swear to keep mum or not?”

Clearly, if he wished to get the story from her, he would have to promise not to report his staff to the proper authorities. “Very well. I will keep your confidence and not have anyone arrested, but I reserve the right to fire the lot of them without references.”

Jess sighed and nodded. “Well, I do hope you won’t act so rashly, but all right, I accept that condition. I think most of the men will be leaving the manor now anyway.” She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “The reason I was so safe at Blackweith Manor was. . . .” She flushed again.

The secret must be extremely embarrassing.

“Was because none of the men had amorous feelings for me.” The words tumbled out in a rush.

Ash stared at her. “I’m sure you mistake the matter. They may not have acted on their feelings, but they had them. Any man would. You are very beautiful.”

Her flush deepened, and he thought he saw happiness spark in her eyes, but the expression was gone before he could be certain. “No, I am not mistaken. I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that the men at the manor don’t have those feelings for me. They don’t have those feelings for any women.”

What? “You aren’t making any sense. Do you mean they’re all monks?” Celibacy wasn’t illegal, though it was damn uncomfortable—he could vouch for the truth of that.

“Damnation, Kit!” She looked rather harried. “You aren’t usually so slow witted. No, they aren’t monks. They just don’t do . . . that with women. They, ah, prefer”—she swallowed—“each other.”

They preferred each other? That would mean . . .

“Good God—you were living in a house of sodomites!”

“Shh. Don’t shout.” She looked around, but they were still alone—except for the birds and the squirrels.

“That’s disgusting.” To think she’d been surrounded by . . . That she’d been exposed to . . . That
he’d
just been talking to . . .

So
that’s
what the fellows who’d answered the door when he’d arrived at the manor had been doing.

“It was not disgusting at all. Dennis made certain everyone was discreet, so I was never put to the blush.” She sniffed. “I don’t know what you are so scandalized about. I think your orgies must be far more disgusting.”

“My orgies?” Now what nonsense was she spouting?

“Oh, yes.” She poked him in the chest. “I may have been living in the country all these years, but I read the newspapers—at least until I couldn’t bear to read about your raking any longer. But I needn’t have worried I’d miss any details. The local gabble-grinders, including that fool Huntington, were always kind enough to see I was kept abreast of your shameful activities.”

She’d mentioned rumors before, but he’d been too angry about the naked footman to give her words much thought. “You can’t believe everything you read in the gossip columns, Jess, or hear from prattle boxes, especially that bounder Huntington.”

“Oh? So you haven’t littered the countryside with broken hearts”—she curled her lip—“or by-blows?”

“I have not.” This was the perfect time to confess that not only had he never attended an orgy or fathered a child, he’d never even—

“There you are!”

What the hell—?
He looked in the direction of the sound.

Blast! Jack was striding down the path toward them.

“Sorry to intrude,” Jack said, “but Mama sent me to fetch Jess. The dressmaker has arrived.”

“And why are you Mama’s errand boy? Couldn’t she have sent William or Richard or another of the footmen?” He tried to swallow his annoyance, but Jack’s elevated eyebrows and quickly suppressed grin indicated he hadn’t been entirely successful. “I’m surprised she could pry you away from Frances.”

That had probably been uncalled for, but he was feeling distinctly out of sorts. He’d been on the verge of confessing his darkest secret, for God’s sake.

“She did ask William first, but he had to help Richard haul the dressmaker’s bolts of fabric upstairs, and”—Jack cleared his throat and glanced from Ash to Jess—“for some reason Mama felt a family member might have more success dragging you back to the house. I had the misfortune of being the one closest at hand.” He raised one eyebrow and said blandly, “Frances is still asleep.”