Dancing With A Devil (21 page)

“
I’ll be ready to depart,” her aunt said.

Gratefulness washed over Audrey, followed by a realization. “No.” She shook her head. “I need you here on the chance Richard comes looking for me. You stay in my room and tell him I’m sick.”

“
You’re sure? I don’t like the idea of your going alone.”

“
I will not be alone. Mr. Barrett has always had a fondness for me. I’m sure he will agree to take me to Lord Davenport’s and keep my secret as long as I explain the situation.”

“
Excellent. It’s all settled. What shall we do now?”

“
I’ll go talk to Mr. Barrett. You go about your normal routine. We don’t want Richard to become suspicious.”

“
All right,” her aunt agreed.

Audrey moved to stand, but her aunt caught her hand. “Dear, when you go to talk to Lord Davenport do try not to look so forlorn. He may realize just how much you love him.”

Audrey’s breath caught in her chest. “Loved him,” she corrected, though it was a lie. If he told her today he loved her and was sorry she knew she would fly into his arms.

Aunt Hillie smiled up at her. “Have I ever told you my take on the proverb that says you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink?”

“
No, Aunt.” Audrey hoped she didn’t look as irritable as she felt. What in the name of all that was holy did a proverb about a horse have to do with her?

“
I think any horse can be made to drink if a person simply makes the horse realize he’s thirsty.”

Audrey frowned. “Aunt Hillie, I don’t understand what this―” Heat flushed her neck and face instantly as realization dawned. Audrey gaped at her aunt. “Is Lord Davenport the horse in this instance?”

“
Of course.”

“
Am I to take it that the water is equivalent to marriage for the sake of this conversation?”

“
Clever, clever girl.” Her aunt clapped her hands. “Just make him realize he’s thirsty for marriage. It’s plain by your face that you love him. Do not forsake happiness for pride.”

There was no point repudiating what her aunt knew. Audrey squared her shoulders. To try to deny it would only make how she felt more obvious. “Lord Davenport made it clear he couldn’t marry me.”

“
Did he say he didn’t want to marry you?”

Audrey started to beg her aunt to drop the matter, but she stilled. Her heart skipped a bit and her chest foolishly filled with hope. He’d never said he didn’t want to marry her. “Well, no. He said he couldn’t.”

“
Then you’d be a fool not to want to find out why. Maybe it’s something silly you can help him solve. Like a ridiculous fear. Men are bursting with foolish fears they feel the need to stoically hide like ninny hammers. My own dearly departed Frank didn’t want to marry me at first, because he was sure he’d be destroying my life by taking me away from my family’s wealth.”

Audrey’s heart pounded in her chest. What if her aunt was right? What if Trent really loved her but feared something from his past? She knew, according to Whitney, that he had regrets about a woman he’d known in France. “How did you convince Uncle Frank otherwise?”

“
Simple, dear.” Her aunt grinned wickedly. “I merely showed my horse that he was parched and would perish from thirst without me by his side.”

“
I do not think I can do that, Aunt Hillie. I think I may be too hurt and as much as I hate to admit it, I am scared he will simply tell me he does not love me.”

Her aunt hugged her close. “Those are valid fears, yet I beg you to think on what I’ve said.”

“
I will,” Audrey promised before leaving her aunt to find Mr. Barrett.

Trent had passed the day in a bloody foul mood, pretending not to be home when Whitney, Gillian and then Sutherland called on him. He knew what they wanted. They wanted him to go to Audrey, but he could not do that. To see her would make matters worse for both of them. His mood worsened throughout the day as the reality of what his loss of control with her had set into motion. By the time evening fell and the darkness of the sky deepened to the black of gaining night, he headed to White’s and was shocked to see that Audrey’s brother was there with some other addlepated dandies.

Trent took a seat on the far side of the room in a dark corner and contemplated what this could mean. If he could get Cringlewood―ah hell, correction, the man was now Bridgeport―if he could get Bridgeport alone, maybe the man would be more willing to be reasonable tonight than he had been last night.

Three hours later Trent gritted his teeth as Bridgeport raised his hand to order another drink. Damnation. The man had been here for hours consuming one whiskey after another. It took every ounce of self-control Trent possessed not to simply stalk over to him, grab the man by his coattails and force him outside where they could speak privately. That wouldn’t serve his purpose, though. Personally, Trent thought a well-placed bullet might be just the thing to snap Bridgeport out of his drunken, self-indulgent behavior, but then Audrey would be hurt and protecting Audrey was the sole reason Trent was still here.

When Bridgeport suddenly stood, Trent let out a hefty sigh of relief and allowed the man a few seconds to stumble toward the door and collect his coat. When none of the marquess’s addlepated mates followed, Trent ambled out of the room toward the exit as if he hadn’t a concern in the world.

He stepped into the dark night and smiled. Finally, he was getting a bit of good luck. Audrey’s brother was leaned against the side of the building, retching up the contents of his stomach. Trent waited for a moment, until it seemed the deed was done, and then strode to Bridgeport. He didn’t turn or acknowledge that he heard Trent approaching, though Trent made sure to walk loud enough his presence would not be a surprise.

“
Bridgeport, might I have a minute?”

Audrey’s brother swung around, swayed dangerously to the right, then steadied himself by throwing his arms out. A comical smile came to the man’s face. “Thought I was going to fall on my bloody arse, didn’t you?”

Hoped was more like it. “No,” Trent replied, examining the marquess’s trembling hands still splayed haphazardly in the air. Hell, the man had the shakes that came with drinking far too much. The situation was worse than Trent had thought. Bridgeport would be no match in a duel. The man would be lucky if he could shoot an immobile object right in front of his face. “I’d like you to call off the duel tomorrow.”

“
You’re scared!” Bridgeport bellowed.

Trent almost nodded. He was scared. Scared he’d kill Audrey’s brother right here and now, devil take the idiot. “Lower your voice, man. Would you have everyone knowing you think your sister’s honor has been impugned?”

“
It has,” Bridgeport raged.

A noisy crowd of men had gathered at the front door of White’s. Trent eyed the group and prayed they’d quickly go inside, or else his hope of talking sense into Bridgeport was going to have to be abandoned. He couldn’t risk him making the situation worse for Audrey by alerting half the
ton
to the duel. “Listen carefully to me, Bridgeport.” Trent purposely lowered his voice, hoping the fool would do the same. “I admit I took liberties I ought not have, but your sister’s innocence is well intact. I’m in no position to marry her, as you demanded, but I vow to stay far away from her and do everything in my power to see she makes a respectable match.

“
Your power!” Bridgeport roared. “We’ll see how powerful you are come tomorrow.”

Disgust ripped through Trent’s body, leaving a trail of singeing heat behind. The group of men at White’s door had grown quiet and a few had taken a few steps in their direction. “Think of your sister, man. This duel could ruin her, no matter how it turns out. If word somehow got out, or worse, you died.”

“
I’m thinking of my sister,” Bridgeport yelled.

Trent furiously shook his head and yanked Bridgeport to him by the lapels of the man’s coat. Once they were face-to-face, Trent spoke. “I’ll meet you tomorrow, because you’ve left me no choice. But if you’ve any real love for your sister, you’ll shut your bloody mouth and keep our meeting to yourself. There are people watching us.” Disgusted, he shoved Bridgeport away and strode toward his waiting coachman.

Once inside the carriage and headed for his home, he squeezed his eyes shut with a groan. What the hell was he going to do now? He was an excellent shot. It was not bragging, but a fact. One had to be a superb shot to make sure one stayed alive when on assignment. Trent examined his options but found only one reasonable enough to contemplate. Tomorrow, he could notch his gun ever so slightly to the right to ensure Bridgeport suffered nothing short of a surface wound on his arm, but would the irrational fool feel vindicated if he was shot? Trent’s gut twisted. He didn’t want to wound Audrey’s brother. The man was the biggest imbecile, but he was defending Audrey’s honor.

“
Damn it all,” he growled. His own idiocy and lack of control had caused this whole sordid situation. If he’d simply learned why she had called him there, tried to help her if he could and kept his bloody distance between them.

He brooded the rest of the way home and by the time he reached his house, his mood had gone from foul to lethal. He stocked past his butler Pickering and into his study.

Trent growled as he entered the room and flopped into his chair. He yanked his cravat off, threw it on the settee and pulled open the collar of his shirt. It might be cool outside, but his study was suffocating. Or maybe it was his conscience weighing so heavily that the air around him felt smothering. How the devil he’d ended up in such a shocking position in a public place with Audrey tonight confused him. Not only had he compromised her, but he might have been disloyal to Gwyneth. It didn’t matter there was not a speck of love inside of him for his wife. He had loved her when he married her, and he’d treat her honorably regardless of how she treated him. “Hell and damn.”

He kicked his boots off, thumped his feet on a stool and laid his head back to squeeze his eyes shut. He needed to think. Clearly, calmly and methodically. Audrey deserved nothing short of a marriage proposal, but he couldn’t give it to her. If it were possible, he would do it. He wiped at his brow, seeing not his cozy study but the rat-infested French prison Gwyneth had left him in. That was what marriage had brought him before. Not trust and fidelity, but lies and betrayal. And he had been about to willingly marry again. But this time would have been different. He would have protected himself better.

“
Pickering,” he bellowed, needing a drink now more than ever.

His butler appeared within seconds.

“
I need a drink,” Trent said before Pickering was fully through the study door.

“
Yes, my lord, but―”

“
No buts. Just my drink.”

Pickering opened his mouth to speak and Trent held up a forestalling hand. “Listen, Pickering, I hear myself. I know I’m being an ill-mannered, unmitigated tyrannical bore, and I beg a thousand pardons. But tonight has been tedious. I’m beginning to think it will never end and I’m stuck in some earthly dimension of my own personally created hell.”

Pickering cleared his throat. “My lord, you have a visitor.”

“
A what? I just got home.”

Pickering smirked. “Yes. And your visitor just arrived. I take it you didn’t hear the door.”

“
I’ve things on my mind,” Trent grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and mentally ticking off the possibilities of who would dare to come here this late. “Is it Dinnisfree?” The duke had been the only one close to him who had not already stopped by today.

“
No, my lord. It’s―”

“
My mother? My cousin? My brother? Tell whoever it is I’m indisposed. I’d likely offend whoever has come to see me.”

“
Don’t worry,” came Audrey’s throaty voice, heavy with sarcasm instead of its usual warmth, “I doubt there’s anything further you can say that will offend me more than you already have.”

Trent surged to his feet and nearly shoved Pickering out of the way to get to Audrey. He had her in his arms and crushed against his chest before he realized what he’d done. Hell. He stiffened. He was doing it again. Putting them both in a terrible situation.

Before he set her away, he took one long inhalation of her fragrant honeysuckle hair. He nearly groaned aloud at the lust and yearning her smell ignited. Disentangling himself, he stepped back. Her cold eyes and withdrawn expression chilled him to the bone. Gone was her smiling radiance. He had done that.