To Desire a Wicked Duke (4 page)

“Certainly, Judith,” Lady Perry said curtly, taking her husband’s arm. “Come, dear, we are obviously
de trop
.”

Sir Alfred seemed reluctant to leave—or at least the disdain on his florid face had lessened to something resembling intrigue. “Must we go? I fancy this will provide better entertainment than the play we are to perform tonight. A theater haunted by spirits cannot hold a candle to a real-life scandal.”

Lady Perry shot her spouse a sharp glance of disapproval and tugged on his arm, compelling his obedience. When she led the way back across the ballroom, the other guests trailed after them.

The moment they were gone, Lady Wingate resumed her chiding. “I expected so much better of you, Tess. How is it that I find you behaving like a trollop in that indecent manner—and with Rotham of all people?”

“I am wholly to blame, Lady Wingate,” Ian interrupted, wanting to shield Tess from her wrath.

“Oh, I have no doubt
you
were the instigator, your grace,” her ladyship snapped, her tone caustic. “I was willing to forgive you for being a rakehell, but I can never forgive you for
this.
”

He couldn’t forgive himself either. In a moment of blind temptation, he’d let his damnable desire for Tess Blanchard flare out of control, and then he was caught seducing her.

Ian voiced another low oath, although this time his curse was directed at himself rather than the intruders. He should have exercised more restraint, but he’d
been unprepared for his body’s reaction to the tantalizing taste of Tess, to the yielding softness of her mouth and form. The jolt had been electric. She’d felt it too, judging from her shiver of startled awareness the moment their lips touched. Against the shouted warnings of his conscience, he’d given in to the fierce rush of primal lust she aroused in him, unable to stop himself.

The baroness regarded him with scorn. “Of course, you
will
do the honorable thing, Rotham.”

Ian narrowed his eyes momentarily. He knew what she meant by “honorable.” His gut tightened, yet he nodded solemnly. “Naturally I will. You needn’t worry.”

“There is no hope for it,” Lady Wingate added, so there would no misunderstanding. “You must wed her at once.”

“I agree.”

Behind him, Tess gasped. Stepping out from his protective shield, she stared up at him in stunned dismay. Ian suspected her distress now was not merely because she had disappointed her godmother and patron.

Her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to find her voice. Ian might have felt a measure of amusement at her response had the circumstances been less serious; it was rare that he rendered Tess speechless. Clearly he had shocked her by agreeing to wed her without a word of protest or debate.

Yet there was no need for either, Ian knew. He had exposed her to scandal and ruin, so he was obliged to make amends—and quickly, before she became mired
so deeply in shame that she could never recover. Whatever his feelings about wedding Tess, he intended to protect her from hurt. She had been hurt too much already.

Tess apparently was not of the same mind. Her voice was hoarse, but held unmistakable adamancy when she spoke. “There is certainly no need for such drastic measures, your grace.”

Ian left it to the baroness to reply, which she did with alacrity.

“There absolutely
is
a need,” her ladyship insisted. “Marriage is the only way to save you from ruin. You will indeed wed Rotham.” Before Tess could reply, Lady Wingate held up an imperious hand. “You, miss, are nearly a spinster. More than two years have passed since Richard’s death, and it is time that you secure a husband.”

“My lady,” Tess said with heightened distress, “You cannot truly expect me to marry Rotham—”

“You will, or I will withdraw my support for all of your charities and leave you to face the scandal alone. Just see how quickly your organizations shrivel without my patronage.”

At the harsh ultimatum, Tess flinched as if struck by a blow. She gazed back at Lady Wingate in stunned disbelief, but the baroness returned her regard without mercy.

The silver-haired noblewoman was every inch an aristocrat—tall, regal, commandingly haughty, and accustomed to getting her own way, but Ian knew she was deeply concerned for Tess’s welfare. What was more, the baroness understood how vicious society would be in rendering judgment on an unmarried
young lady who had sinned in a public display of wantonness.

When Tess remained mute, Ian stepped into the breach once more. “Lady Wingate, if you will allow us a moment alone, perhaps we can come to a resolution on our own.”

“Very well, your grace. I trust you will talk some sense into her. I should like to announce your betrothal this evening, before the performance. Meanwhile, we will have to devise a story to explain your transgression in hopes of minimizing the damage.…”

Her voice trailing off, she frowned, deep in thought. “I have it. Rotham, you can say that you have been enamored of Tess for some time now, but that you properly waited until she was out of mourning for Richard before asking for her hand. When my friends and I interrupted your lovers’ tryst, you had just proposed and Tess had accepted. In your delight, you were both carried away by passion. The fact that you were overly eager to celebrate your nuptials will perhaps be more forgivable if you adopt the pretense of being in love with each other.”

When Tess made a faint sound of protest, Lady Wingate shot one last glance at her. “I know you will not fail me, my dear, after all I have done for you.”

With that she turned away and disappeared beyond the stage curtains. Eventually Ian heard the faint echo of the ballroom door shutting. Otherwise, the resulting silence was deafening.

Tess still stood frozen, looking as if the sky had come crashing down upon her unwitting head.

To fill the uncomfortable void, Ian strode across the stage and flung the curtains open wide.

“What are you doing?” she demanded in low voice, her tone suspicious.

“Making it harder for anyone to eavesdrop again. I should think you’ve had enough of bystanders sneaking up on you for one afternoon.”

She had no retort for that, yet Tess’s defenses rarely were lowered for long. Deciding it was best to take advantage of the moment, Ian came straight to the point. “You heard Lady Wingate. Are you prepared to be sensible, Miss Blanchard?”

“I am always sensible,” she retorted with a hint of her usual spirit. “But you are quite mad if you think I will wed you.”

“Perhaps I am mad.” Ian shook his head, a short mirthless chuckle escaping him.

“Surely you do not find this abominable situation amusing!”

In truth, he found a measure of cynical humor at their predicament. He most definitely had not expected to be making a proposal of marriage when he set out this morning to drive the five miles between Wingate Manor and Bellacourt, his family seat. It was even more ironic that after all his amorous liaisons in the past, coupled with all the years of eluding grasping matchmaking mamas, a simple bout of kissing should prove his downfall. Although there had been nothing simple about kissing Tess …

“Amusing?” Ian murmured. “Somewhat. Frankly, I find it unbelievable that I was so inept as to be caught kissing you. I must be losing my touch.”

Her sniff was eloquent. “Well,
I
find it unbelievable that you would allow yourself to be coerced into matrimony,” Tess rejoined.

“There is no coercion involved.”

“Then why would the threat of scandal concern you? You have never cared one whit what polite society thinks of you.”

He didn’t give much of a damn about respectability for himself, but Tess was another matter entirely. “I care what happens to you. Lady Wingate is right. Your reputation will be in ruins if you don’t marry me. The Perrys will see to it.”

Her frustration, her utter dismay, was manifested in Tess’s expression. Backing up a step, she sank down on the chaise and covered her face with her hands. “I assure you,
I
am not laughing,” she muttered. “I only want to cry.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Tess stiffened, as he had meant her to do; her chin snapped up so that she could glare at him. Ian was rather relieved by her feisty reaction. Needling her had always been the surest way to maintain the upper hand with her.

“If you mean to turn into a watering pot,” he continued in a pleasant drawl, “I advise you to indulge now so that you can recover your appearance. If your eyes are red and swollen when you become a blushing bride, you will convince no one that we are making a love match.”

Tess’s glare deepened. “You are without a doubt the most provoking creature alive,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I suppose that depends on your perspective.”

“Mine is the only perspective that counts with me!”

“You are forgetting arbiters of the ton such as Sir Alfred and Lady Perry.”

She hesitated, even though her dark eyes still glittered with helpless anger. “I should think you would want to help me get out of this awful predicament, Rotham.”

“I suspect it isn’t possible.”

His fatalism seemed to disturb her even more. “How can you remain so calm?” she demanded in disbelief.

“I assure you, I am far from calm, but there is no use bemoaning fate if it can’t be changed.”

“
You
are capable of changing our fate. All you need do is tell Lady Wingate you refuse to wed me.”

“I fear I will have to disappoint you, darling. My transgressions are vast, but I draw the line at ruining you. I compromised you, so now I must make amends.”
And I feel guilty as hell for it
, Ian added to himself.

Tess’s hands clenched in impotent fury. “It isn’t right that I should be forced to marry you. I did not ask you to kiss me.”

“But neither did you object.”

“I intended to, just before we were interrupted.”

Ian raised a quizzical eyebrow. Tess’s flush indicated she knew very well she had been a willing participant in her seduction.

“Granted, I never should have taken it so far,” Ian conceded. “But the damage is done now. You need the protection of my name.”

When distress crossed her beautiful face once more, he softened his tone a measure. “Take heart, sweeting. No one who knows you would hold you to
blame for our transgression. Everyone believes you to be a saint.”

Her mouth twisted. “I am hardly a saint.”

“But you are a pattern card of respectability.”

“Until now I have been. It is utterly unfair that my one lapse should result in a life sentence.”

Ian agreed, it was unfair that she would bear the brunt of society’s disapproval. On the scale of social infractions, his were infinitely worse, but would be judged minor compared to this one slip from Tess. He’d been a rebel most of his life, but he had paid little price for his reckless scandals. Certainly his wickedness had not made him an outcast. He was a duke after all. Without an act of Parliament, he could literally get away with murder and scarcely suffer for it.

Ian shook his head sardonically. He disliked society’s rules even more than Tess did, and he sympathized with her resentment of the hypocrisy. But the double standards employed for unmarried young ladies and powerful, wealthy noblemen were a fact of life.

He moved back across the stage to stand before her, holding the advantage since from her seated position, she was forced to tilt her head to look up at him. “I won’t go down on bended knee, but I should make my offer formal. Miss Blanchard, will you do me the great honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”

“No.”

He bit back a smile at her succinct response. “This is no time to be stubborn. When an eligible suitor asks a lady to marry him, she should simper and blush and say, ‘Lah, sir, but of course I will.’ ”

“Lah, sir, I will
not,
” Tess insisted.

His amusement disappearing, Ian exhaled an exaggerated sigh. “Let me remind you of the consequences if you don’t accept. The gossips will rip you to shreds. Contributions to your precious charities will end, not to mention losing your chief patron. And after this, your chances of marrying will be significantly diminished. They may even be nonexistent.”

Of all those threats, he knew the second would be the most crucial to Tess. When Richard first entered the army, she’d become involved aiding families who had sent their men off to war. Then, upon her betrothed’s death, she’d buried herself in her work as a way to lessen her own grief, to the point that her charities had become a passion for her.

Looking chagrined, Tess leapt up from the chaise and began to pace the stage. “There must be some alternative. Perhaps if we simply became betrothed and then later called off the engagement …”

“That would only postpone the inevitable scandal,” Ian replied. “Given my reputation, a betrothal that doesn’t lead to marriage would be even worse for you in the end, especially after what Lady Wingate’s guests saw today.”

Tess clenched her teeth and continued pacing. Watching her, Ian decided he would do better to let her rant for a while, to burn her anger out. In the end, she would see there was only one course open to her.

Turning, he sat down in a chair, then stretched out his long legs and crossed his boots at the ankles. “Pray tell me, what objections do you have to becoming my wife?”

She shot him an incredulous look. “You must be
jesting. There are countless reasons, but the chief one is that you don’t love me, and I don’t love you.”

“You have far too many romantic notions. Members of our class marry for a host of socially accepted reasons, but love is rarely one of them.”

“
I
planned to marry for love, and you are not the sort of man I could ever love.”

Ian winced inwardly at her stinging avowal, although outwardly he shrugged. “I suppose you are still in love with Richard.”

“Of course I still love him.”

He had suspected as much. Even if Tess was officially out of mourning for her late betrothed, she was still devoted to his cousin’s ghost. “I’m afraid that can’t be helped.”

When she made no reply, Ian adopted his same provoking drawl. “Your trouble, Miss Blanchard, is that you are overly idealistic.”