Valerie Bowman - Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage

She was not, however, staying at a hotel. And his money, in fact, was not what found her.

As he did every morning at precisely seven-thirty, Locke delivered his employer’s perfectly pressed copy of the Times.

James accepted the paper in the midst of his stack of correspondence, his cup of black coffee, and his urgent business papers. Somewhere in between his third bite of eggs and toast, he carefully shook out the front page and casually scanned the headlines.

After dutifully reading the business news and parliamentary proceedings, James flipped the pages to the Society section. He’d had his eye on a certain story. Seemed the entire town wanted to know the answer to the same question he did. Where in the hell was the newly exonerated dowager Duchess of Markingham? And it seemed while there was quite a bit of conjecture, no one, including himself, knew. Damn it. Had she managed to leave for the Continent already? Had she slipped out of town that quickly without anyone becoming the wiser? It didn’t seem possible, but as the days passed with no sighting of her, it began to seem more and more likely.

Minutes later, Locke reentered the breakfast room clearing his throat. “Lady Eversly to see you, milord.”

James snapped up his head. “Lady Catherine? To see me? At this hour?”

Locke tactfully kept his eyes downcast. “She indicated it was quite urgent, my lord.”

“Very well. Show her in.”

Not two seconds later, Catherine Eversly swept past Locke into the room. She wore her white-blond hair in a chignon and her ice-blue silk gown clung to every curve of her perfect figure. Catherine was a beauty, and she knew it. Neither friend nor foe, she and James shared a sort of peaceable trust. She was also quite married.

“So glad you invited me in, Medford,” she said with a regal shake of her head. “Or that might have been a bit awkward.”

Locke gave the woman a narrow-eyed glare before retreating from the room after a nod from his master.

James stood, pulled the napkin from his lap, and bowed. “Lady Catherine. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Catherine swept forward, her fine white-blond eyebrow arched. James always got the feeling that he was standing in the presence of royalty when Catherine entered a room. More like Marie Antoinette than Queen Caroline, however. And Catherine was always up to something.

James gestured to the rosewood chair next to him. “Please have a seat. May I offer you some breakfast?” He nodded to a waiting footman, indicating to fill a plate, but Catherine waved a well-manicured hand impatiently in the air.

“No, no, I couldn’t possibly eat. I’ll simply have a cup of tea.”

Another nod to the footman and a china teacup appeared in front of Catherine. She slid into the chair next to James and leaned enticingly toward him. Catherine always knew how to display her—ahem—self to her best advantage even at this hour of the morning.

“You surprise me, my lady, I didn’t think you rose until after noon.”

Catherine smiled her infamous feline smile and dipped a silver spoon into her teacup to stir. “My, my, we are formal this morning. You haven’t called me by my title in an age. And I never rise before noon if I can help it.”

James eyed her over his coffee cup. “I know you haven’t come to discuss our first-name basis. So tell me, why are you here? What’s got you out of your bed at such an early hour?”

Catherine picked up her cup and brought it to her lips. She took a sip and put it down with a little flourish. She nodded toward the paper James held in his hand. “See the latest?” she asked with an unmistakable sparkle in her eye.

He lifted his brows. “About?”

“Ah, don’t play coy with me, James. I happen to know you have the Times open to page five.”

James glanced briefly at the page in his lap. Page 5. He quickly folded it and tossed it onto the gleaming mahogany tabletop. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, I know you are interested in the whereabouts of the dowager Duchess of Markingham.”

James struggled to keep his face blank. He knew Catherine well enough to know the lady never got directly to the point. She would tell him what she had to say in due time and he would endeavor to keep from throttling her while he waited.

“Do you have news for me?” he asked in a steady voice.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Why else would I be here at this ungodly hour?”

His voice simmered. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Tell me, Catherine. Do you know where Kate is?”

“Of course I do, you daft man.” She took another sip of her tea and regarded her fingernails leisurely. “She happens to be staying with me.”

It was exactly two hours later when James entered Catherine Eversly’s town house and made his way down the hall to stand outside the rose salon where Catherine insisted Kate could be found. He’d managed to discern from Catherine, after two cups of tea and a great deal of cajoling, that Lily and Annie had been instrumental in introducing Kate to Catherine. Catherine, never one to shy away from a scandal and insert herself into the latest on dit, had been only too happy to play secret hostess to the most talked-about woman in London. She seemed to relish it, actually. She adored having the biggest story of the winter season living under her roof with no one the wiser.

“I thought you’d be more clever, Medford,” Catherine had drawled, fluttering her long black lashes over the rim of her teacup. “I had no idea it would take you so long to figure it out.”

He regarded her through half-lidded eyes. “I didn’t figure it out.”

“Precisely why I’m here, darling. I wanted to put you out of your misery. And get this little drama under way. It was all taking far too long, to be honest.” She laughed. “Besides, I’ve always had a fondness for you, Medford dear. You know that. I do hate to watch you suffer.”

“Thank you for that,” he said in an unconvinced tone. But he’d insisted that he be allowed to visit Kate as soon as possible. And now here he was.

He took a deep breath, eyeing the door in front of him.

What would he say to her? She’d left him. Why? She’d spent the night with him, they’d discussed marriage, and then she’d vanished, leaving only an insufficient note to explain her actions. He steeled his resolve. He meant to ask her why she’d left, to tell her why she should stay, and then to leave it to her to decide once and for all. Whatever she decided, he would abide by her wishes. But she would bloody well say it to his face. No more notes. James straightened his shoulders and rapped once upon the door. This was the second time she’d left him. There would not be a third.

There was a muffled sound of movement within the room for a moment before the door swung open. Kate stood there in a pretty velvet emerald-green day dress looking radiant as ever. She also looked shocked as hell to see him.

Her hand flew to her throat. “James.”

“May I come in?”

She stood staring at him for a few moments as if in a daze, then she moved aside and opened the door wider, ushering him in.

He brushed past her into the salon.

“How did you find me?” she asked, closing the door behind him.

He turned to face her. “Don’t worry, Lily and Annie kept your secret well. I spent the last several days bribing every employee of every hotel across the city.”

She arched a brow. “Breaking rules? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I assure you. Nothing I’ve done in the past few days sounds like me.”

She pushed her hands down her skirts. “But how did you find—”

“Catherine paid me a visit.”

She looked down and nodded. “I see.”

“Don’t blame her. She was doing me a favor.”

Kate twisted her fingers. “I’d never blame her. She’s been so kind to take me in.” Her gaze searched his face. “Are you all right, James?”

He smiled a humorless smile. “How can you ask me that?”

She moved over to the window and looked out, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Why did you come?”

His voice was tight. “Funny. I thought I’d asked you to marry me, and you never gave me your answer. Or did you forget?”

She traced her finger along the windowsill. “I thought my answer was clear when I told you I was leaving.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “You left me a note. A note I ripped into a hundred pieces.”

Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, James.”

“Tell me to my face that the answer is no,” he demanded. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

She swung around to face him, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m leaving for the Continent in two days, James.”

Kate eyed James. His hair was disheveled, his cravat askew. He looked completely mussed and endearingly handsome. And she’d done this to him. His house was destroyed, his reputation in danger, and now he was apparently willing to completely obliterate it for her. She couldn’t allow it.

When he’d asked her if the answer to his proposal was no, she couldn’t say it, couldn’t drag that one word past her dry lips. She wanted so badly to say yes, but she couldn’t say that either.

He didn’t love her. Had never said as much. He’d offered for her out of a sense of duty. A misguided sense of duty. Just like he had with Lily. He was trying to fix it all.

There were some things you just couldn’t fix. But that wasn’t the worst part. The hardest part. The fact was, Kate loved him. She’d fallen in love with him, truly, deeply. And she couldn’t allow him to sacrifice himself for her. She was a social outcast, a pariah. She had nothing to offer him but ruin. If he had truly loved her, truly wanted her, she might be tempted to accept his offer. They might be able to make it work. But she couldn’t let him ruin himself over someone he didn’t even love. No, she’d spent years in a loveless marriage before and she refused to repeat that mistake ever again.