The Scandalous Duke Takes a Bride (2 page)

“It shouldn’t be a surprise that Fallon has reduced me to a pauper. If ever I needed proof that my husband despised me, he’s managed to prove so even after his death.”

Jez was more candid than usual about her late husband. She never discussed her tumultuous marriage with Hayden, or anyone else for that matter. It was a fine line she wouldn’t cross, or she’d have to face too many ugly truths, he suspected. Hayden wished he could have changed the course of her life sooner.

How he would have changed it was anyone’s guess. And really, there wasn’t much he could have done to help her. When he’d finally discovered just what type of man Fallon was—a mere two years ago compared to the eight years that Jessica had been married—the law, he found, was not in favor of a friend protecting a married woman. They didn’t seem to care how barbarous that husband was behind closed doors.

The one occasion that Hayden had witnessed the brute nature of Fallon he’d been escorted to Jessica’s drawing room and heard the smashing of glass in the parlor next door. He’d been well and ready to ignore it until Jez’s pained voice had begged for mercy.

The scene he’d witnessed upon sliding the door open …

Any man would have charged Fallon as he’d done.

After the first fall of his fist to Fallon’s face and his attempt to strangle the man, Jez had pulled him off and had refused to budge from the path that blocked her scoundrel husband from further injury. Her dress had been torn at the shoulder; blood had smeared her upper lip where she’d been hit hard across the face. Hayden had never understood why she had dragged him off her husband or why she had protected the bastard all the years they’d been married.

While they’d never mentioned that day again, the knowledge of it had always stood between them. He had never witnessed a repeat of Fallon’s high-handed abuse, and while he hoped that Fallon had never raised another hand against his wife after their confrontation, the evidence stared him baldly in the face right now.

He and Jez had known each other for nearly a decade, and looking at her now, he didn’t see one ounce of the vibrant woman she once was. What he saw in her gaze was eight years of a miserable marriage weighing down on her soul.

But he knew there was an abundance of liveliness hidden beneath all the sorrow. If he could just find a way to unlock it again …

“You have a portion of your dowry that was protected from the estate. That hardly makes you a pauper,” he pointed out. “What you do over the next year with that money will be what defines your financial stability in the future. I will make the investments on your behalf.”

He was merely repeating the advice given to him by his solicitor. He did not tell her that he’d already allocated some of his money to bonds in her name.

She raised a hand to stall his speech. “Fallon invested a few hundred thousand pounds of my inheritance into the estate and ensured that it was tied firmly into the entailment. Ten thousand pounds is hardly enough to keep me in a decent life for long.” She paused for a long moment, tapping her fingers along the arm of the chair. “I’ll not leave London behind, Hayden. I can’t live anywhere but here. This is my home.”

He removed his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Now would not be the best of times to tell her that he’d saved well for her future. She’d refuse him. That he knew without doubt.

“And I’ll keep reminding you that it’s in your best interest to escape the city for a while”—he held up his hand when she tried to interrupt him—“at least until the gossip settles down about your lack of widow’s weeds. We can arrange to have a summer house party at my estate. Or Leo’s if you prefer, since his is closer to Town.”

Jez shook her head. “And let Warren move in like a hawk on wounded prey? I will not expose my back to that man. He’ll turn me out in a fortnight if I give him an open opportunity.”

The only reason she had a year was to ensure that the next heir to the house of Fallon wasn’t in her womb. While she’d revealed to Hayden that that wasn’t a possibility, that didn’t mean the rest of the
ton
needed to know that fact.

“Then I’ll speak to him, Jez. Make it very clear what his moral obligation is under the law and in the eyes of society.”

Jez closed her eyes for a brief moment before pulling herself to her feet to pace the study floor. The room doubled as his library, with heavily lined mahogany bookshelves on three of the walls and paned windows with stained glass decorating the tops on every other wall of the hexagonal room. A burgundy Persian rug covered the center of the room, stopping well before the molding to reveal the zigzag design of the hardwood inlay that bordered the room.

“You’ll do no such thing,” she said. “I will deal with Warren directly.”

“He hasn’t listened to your pleas thus far; why do you think he’ll listen to you now?”

Her periwinkle silk day dress swished over her legs as she walked to and fro. She wrung her hands together in agitation. “He’s my problem.”

Hayden didn’t agree—and he’d pay the man a visit to let him know that he should leave Jez alone for the foreseeable future.

“I cannot believe my life has been reduced to this,” Jez said.

“There are investments you can make.…”

“I’ll not wager away the last of my money on speculation.”

Hayden gave her a droll look. The irony was that the first half of her marriage had been spent in and out of gaming houses. It was baffling that she wouldn’t make one small gamble now.

She plopped herself down on the sofa with a heavy sigh, half a room away from him. He pushed his chair out from his desk and walked over to her, his hands in his vest pockets as he studied her.

“It wouldn’t be a risk,” he assured her.

Jez threw her right arm over her brow dramatically. “I don’t want to think about this at the moment.”

“This is your reality, Jez.” He didn’t finish his diatribe, as he didn’t want to lecture her any more than she wanted to be lectured. Another time perhaps, but not now. “We’ll discuss this when you’re in better spirits, then.”

She peeked at him from under her arm. “I doubt that’ll be any time soon. The only thing I care about right now is what our plans are for this evening.”

“Cards. Here, of course.”

She needed to stay out of sight for a while, let the gossip surrounding her appearance at her husband’s funeral die down; by wearing scarlet to the funeral of her late husband she’d dared society to censure her. Hayden wondered if society would ever look at Jez in a kinder light than the one that currently shone upon her. Only time would tell.

“It’s dreadful being a widow. I haven’t received one invitation since Fallon kicked the bucket.”

“A week is hardly a long time. And just because you don’t care for society’s rules, you know most others play by the book.”

Besides, she didn’t look as though she could endure an evening of fanfare despite her insistence. She looked frail, and as the week had progressed she seemed more unlike herself—“distant” and “less vibrant” were the only descriptions he could come up with. He wasn’t foolish enough to bring that to her attention, or the fact that she could feel better from a week of self-imposed rest.

It didn’t matter what anyone else thought of her; he knew exactly what was going on in that pretty head of hers—she was hiding from the truth of her circumstances. She constantly pushed herself too hard, and while he understood her need to distance herself from reality, it was time to put the reins back on her life and figure out her future.

After living under the reign of her husband for so long, it must be odd to finally be free, to do as she pleased without any repercussions from Fallon.

There were so many things Hayden wanted to show her that would make her smile. He wanted to be the one to give her that second view on life. And he would. But now wasn’t quite the time for that.

“What are you thinking so intensely about?” she asked.

He shrugged. “This and that. Nothing of import, unless you want to discuss a few of the ventures I’ve been lucky to invest in.”

“I’d tell you how insufferable you are, but you already know that about yourself.”

“Do I?” He smiled a little with her assessment of him.

“Oh, stop being so cavalier. Please sit with me. You’re liable to start pacing and I have a megrim coming on. I don’t want to grow dizzy watching you think out my problems.” She rubbed fitfully at her temple. “I think I should remind you again: my situation is my problem to sort out.”

He sat heavily on the sofa and put his feet up on the ottoman next to her ivory-slippered ones.

“What a pair we are,” he observed aloud.

He turned his head and stared at her with her arm flung over her eyes. She didn’t see him, which he was fine with, since it gave him an opportunity to scrutinize her carefully. The sleeves of her dress were loose around her shoulders and upper arms, her skin had an almost translucent quality, and the light dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks seemed faded—if such a thing was possible.

“What am I going to do with you?”

She lowered her arm and turned to look at him. “There’s nothing to be done, Hayden.” She took his hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. The cool press of her fingers could not keep the desires within him banked for long. “Trust that I’ll work out my problems on my own. You can’t always save the day when one of us makes a mess of our lives.”

She referred to their other friends, Leo and Tristan, not just herself. And it was true; he usually had all the answers … except, it seemed, when it came to Jez. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to fix what was currently wrong in her life.

“It’s something I have to do. I’ll always want the best for you.”

“I know.” She smiled, the contentment reaching her blue eyes this time. “You’re the best friend anyone could ever ask for.”

And there was the crux of it: in her eyes he would always be just a friend. She really did make him believe that opposites attracted, for there was nothing similar in their characters, yet he wanted her to himself. She’d always been brazen and daring, him steadfast and cautious. Yet he still wanted to protect and cherish her as his own. And he would. There was nothing to stop him now that Fallon was dead.

“Are you sure you’re up for a hand of cards tonight?” he asked cautiously. Jez hated to be told she shouldn’t do something.

“I haven’t anything better to do, so yes. I’ll send Tristan a note to stop at my townhouse; we can walk over together.”

“I really think we should escape to the countryside for the remainder of the summer. It’ll be too hot to stay in the confines of the city for much longer and I can only bear the smell of the Thames for so long.”

“You know I love London too much to move away for any length of time. Besides, I need to work out a few arrangements with Warren tomorrow.”

Hayden snapped to attention and sat up straighter on the sofa. “What business does he have with you? You should have told me, Jez.”

She sighed more loudly than she needed to. “I knew you would react exactly this way; that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“What’s the purpose of the meeting?” he asked. “Warren treated you with contempt at the reading of the will. There is no reason for you to have to endure his company alone.”

“Give me some credit in dealing with him. I can be charming if the occasion warrants it. I want to ask him for the dower house, to live there at least until he’s married.”

“You know he won’t allow it. Hell, I’d be surprised if the man actually took the Ponsley chit as his wife.” In fact, Tristan and Leo were both trying to win the favor of the woman set to be engaged to Warren—which had started at Jez’s insistence. “Warren is above reproach, and you know that he can’t possibly entertain the idea of keeping you on.”

“I know I’ve been a dreadful role model of how a proper lady should act since I married, but it will hurt his reputation to throw me out too soon. Surely there are enough men who hated my husband that they’ll side with me in this. I know Warren has it in him to show some compassion.”

“This doesn’t sound like a good idea to me.” In fact, this was an outright bad idea. He didn’t want her near another Fallon for the rest of her days. Hayden decided then and there that if Warren so much as raised his hand to her his life would be forfeit. “If you want to negotiate the dower house as part of your marriage settlement, let me do it with my solicitor.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission, Hayden.”

“If he mistreats you in any way, you’re to come to me immediately.”

“You sound like an overbearing father.”

That was not a character he wanted to be equated to in Jez’s life.

“You’ll have to live with that,” he said, brushing his hand through his hair. Perhaps he should pay a visit to Warren, tell him that should anything happen to Jez then Warren would be held personally responsible.

Even knowing that he was stepping out of bounds by seeing the man behind Jez’s back, he resolved to have it done first thing in the morning.

He changed the subject to a more pressing issue. “How have you been feeling?”

“Why do you ask?” she said cautiously.

He raised one eyebrow sardonically. She knew exactly what he meant.

“I’m starting to find the happiness I had before I married.”

“Truly?” He had known her long enough to smell a lie when she fed him one. He didn’t for one second believe her.