The Bride of Devil's Acre (24 page)

“You do not have to do that.” Marcus was well aware of Jacqueline’s feelings surrounding her father. “You can stay here as long as you wish.”

“Thank you, but I can’t.” Left unsaid was the fact that her fiancé would never stand for the notion of Jacqueline remaining in the home of a man not her father.

“Of course.” Marcus tipped his head in acknowledgment. Already there were changes to their friendship, a sign of what was to come. “Well, if this is to be our last night dining together—”

“Marcus—” Jacqueline flinched at the sharp edge of Marcus’ tone.

“It’s all right,” Marcus said, sofenting his tone. “I understand, honestly, I do. You have to do what is best for you.”

“I meant what I said. I treasure our friendship and have no intention of letting it go.”

She believed it. He could see it in her eyes, and for a while it might be true. But eventually, the pressures of society and her husband would weigh in, and Jacqueline would slip further and further away.

“Either way, I suggest we celebrate with one of my finest bottles of brandy.” He was well stocked, after all. “Come,” he said, rising to his feet and offering Jacqueline his hand. “Let us feast!”

“This isn’t good-bye,” Jacqueline said, slipping her fingers into Marcus’ hand and allowing him to help her to her feet. “You will not be rid of me so easily.”

Strolling back into Purgatory after leaving Jacqueline home alone was a lot like marching into enemy territory. For the life of him, Marcus couldn’t figure out why he’d come.
 

They’d shared a lovely dinner and evening, Marcus leaving well after his usual hour. The conversation had been stilted at first, slowly giving way to the comfort of friendship—once they got off the subject of marriage.
 

Marcus had never been one for marriage, but lately the institution had taken on a menacing quality more suited for the asylum.

As usual, Purgatory was packed with lost souls not looking to be found or saved. The tables were full, but it was just a matter of time before an unlucky lord lost his estate, rising from the table only to fall into the poorhouse.
 

Marcus joined the game. A moment later, a glass of whiskey appeared at his elbow, the male steward offering him a smile and an invitation. Marcus ignored both.
 

“Eddington is here.”

Devil turned, following Finn’s gaze to a table at the center of the room. Eddington’s attention was focused on the game, ignoring the men and women around him. Quickly, Devil scanned the room, relieved when there was no sign of his wife. “Join the game.”

“Aye.”

Devil watched Finn stumble off. Not surprising, the Irishman made a believable drunk.

Marcus looked over the tops of his cards, watching as Finn approached the table. A tap on the shoulder and one unfortunate player relinquished his seat.
 

“O’Sullivan.”

“Eddington.”

“Are you sure you’re at the right table?” Marcus accepted his cards but didn’t look at them. Finn was here for a reason, and it wasn’t to play.

“I’ve got the coin.” Finn made sure to slur his words.

“Not enough,” Marcus drawled. Reclining in his seat, he stared across the felt-covered table. “Of course, if you had a sponsor, someone to back your play?” The crowd around the table grew quiet. It was considerably rude of him to call a man’s ability to pay into question, but Marcus wasn’t after Finn.

“I’ll sponsor him, personally.” Devil said, drawn out of the crowd by Eddington’s challenge.

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Marcus drawled. Here was the man he was looking for.
 

“As if he’s never heard that one before.” Finn took his time studying his cards, choosing one carefully before tossing it on the table.

“And that would make you
what
? The devil’s advocate?”

Finn’s snort of laughter was involuntary. “He’s no saint; that’s for sure.”

“I’ll cover any of Finn’s losses,” Devil reiterated as the game got underway. “Will that satisfy?”

“Not. Even. Close.” Marcus’ voice was hard, and his eyes locked on Devil’s face. They were no longer talking about cards. He’d known some unscrupulous men in his time. Hell, most of the members of the House of Lords fit into that category. But kidnapping and extortion? That certainly promoted his host to a class all his own.

Devil’s eyes narrowed. “Then perhaps you should take your money elsewhere.”

“I have business here.” Rising tension had the crowd shifting restlessly, men and women jockeying for a position around the table. It wasn’t often they got to witness a lord and the devil squaring off.

“Shall we take your business back to my office? I do believe you would be more comfortable there.”

“I doubt that,” Marcus said, tossing down his cards and scooping up his glass. “But, please, lead the way.”

Devil signaled to Finn. The suddenly sober Irishman pushed back his chair and fell into step behind Marcus.
 

Devil led the way back to his office, circling the bar and pushing through the door. Stepping behind his desk, he considered Eddington. “How’s my wife?”

“What do you care?”
 

Marcus felt the cool press of metal behind his ear a moment before the gun cocked.

“Answer the man’s question,” Finn growled, his patience for his lordship at an end.

“You should know that kind of threat only works on a man who has something to live for,” Marcus said.

Devil locked eyes with Eddington. The man hadn’t so much as flinched, or shown a moment’s hesitation walking into his office. Most men would be near to wetting themselves by now.

Devil nodded to Finn who removed the pistol. “I do hope you take more care with my wife’s person than you do your own.”

“I wasn’t being flippant.” Marcus paused and reconsidered. “OK, maybe I was, but the question still stands.
Why do you care?
”

“Make no mistake. I care a great deal about my wife,” Devil growled.

“Grown a
tender
for your wife, have you?” Marcus sneered, planting his hands on Devil’s desk. “Was that before or after you kidnapped her and left her to be raped?”

“She told you.”

“God knows she needed to tell someone, and she had nowhere else to go. You made sure of that.” The irony of Marcus being anyone’s savior was not lost on him.
 

Devil’s jaw clenched, and behind Eddington, Finn shifted uneasily. “Where is she now?”

“Probably packing.”

“What?”

“You needn’t worry. Soon she will no longer be your responsibility.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“I’m not sure I should ruin the surprise, or deny Jacqueline the pleasure of being the one to tell you herself, but your wife will be seeking an annulment.”

Devil drew back as if slapped. “On what grounds?”

“I’m sure she’ll think of something.”
 

Devil told himself not to worry. An annulment would take time. He could still clean up this mess with Carver and then reconcile with his wife. “You said she’s packing. Where is she going? Back to her father’s?” He wanted—
needed
—to know she was safe.

“Temporarily,” Marcus said, looking at Devil quizzically. He had expected relief, not this curious need for more information. “Just until she and Gates can be married.”

“WHAT?” Devil’s roar echoed around the room.

Finn flinched and resisted the urge to duck his head.

“What did you say?” Devil swallowed his rage.

“Henry Gates, the Earl of Arlington’s son—”

“I know who he is,” Devil growled.

“He called on Jacqueline. It’s my understanding he offered to help your wife annul your marriage and proposed—all within the same breath, I believe.”
 

Marcus didn’t care for Gates. The two traveled in vastly different circles, the future earl considering himself morally superior to most men. But that wasn’t what bothered Marcus. Perhaps it was the way the young man always seemed perfectly positioned to take advantage of an opportunity, such as Jacqueline, for instance, as the man certainly seemed intent on doing.

“The annulment was Gates’ idea?” The notion went a long way toward calming Devil’s racing heart.
 

“I assume.” Marcus decided he was better off not telling Devil of his own offer to Jacqueline. The man did not seem to be handling the news well.

Devil had spent the past three days making a target of himself, all with the idea that when this was over he would seek out his wife and find some way to make it all up to her. He had convinced himself that whatever he felt for her was mutual. But perhaps he was mistaken.

“What do you want to do?” Finn asked from over Eddington’s shoulder.

Devil heaved a sigh. Running a hand through his hair, he scratched at his head. He was exhausted. He was spending all of his time in Devil’s Acre, involving himself in all aspects of his business in an effort to be more visible.
 

When he did sleep, it was on the couch in his office. He told himself it was for convenience, but the truth of the matter was he didn’t want to spend another night alone in his bed. His sheets still smelled of their lovemaking and the pillows of his wife.
 

“We can’t stop now.” They’d invested too much time into this plan. Carver had to be close; it was just a matter of time before he grew bold enough, or impatient, and struck.

“We don’t have to,” Finn said. “You can still patch things up with Lady J.”

“No, it’s better if people believe we are at odds. She’s safer this way.”

“What the bloody hell are you going on about?” Marcus asked. “If Jacqueline is in danger, I should know.
She
should know!”

Devil’s eyes narrowed. “My wife doesn’t need to know anything.”

“You never learn, do you?” Marcus eyed Devil. The man stood behind his desk, his face set. “After everything that’s happened…”

“It’s because of everything that’s happened!” Devil said. He’d failed Jacqueline once. He wouldn’t fail her again. “I’m trying to protect her.”

“A noble notion, to be sure, but you underestimate your wife. I’ve known her less time, and less intimately, and even I know Jacqueline would resent you for it.”

“That’s a risk I’ll have to take.” Devil had to believe that the end justified the means.

“Well, I won’t,” Marcus said, turning to go. Let them try to stop him. Something was going on, and Jacqueline had a right to know.

“Carver is still alive…”

Marcus froze.
Carver
?
Wasn’t Carver the man who…

Marcus turned about slowly, the full horror of what Devil just told him leaving him cold. “I thought he was dead.”

“So did I.” It was a mistake Devil was eager to rectify.
 

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters now is finding the bastard.”

“How are you going to do that?”
 

“I have it on good authority the man is coming for me.”

“So you’re just sitting around waiting?”

Devil’s eyes narrowed. “No, I have men out looking.” So far, they’d turned up nothing. No one had seen Carver in weeks, and Stubs had stopped talking.

“Jacqueline has to know.”

“No.” Devil’s voice was hard.

“You can’t—”

“Give me two more days.” Already, Devil knew he couldn’t keep this up. If Carver didn’t do something soon, Devil would.

“If you haven’t found him yet, chances are you won’t find him at all.” Good God, Marcus wondered, how was he supposed to keep this from Jacqueline?

“I’ll find him.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I’ll tell Jac.” Devil never intended otherwise, but he wanted to deliver the news along with the man’s head. He never wanted his wife to feel another moment of fear.
 

Marcus studied Devil, and the two men squared off. They both believed they were acting in Jacqueline’s best interest. Unfortunately, there was no way to know for sure until it was too late. If Marcus was right, Jacqueline would resent them both, and he could lose a good friend. But if Devil was right, and the man was able to take care of Carver without Jacqueline being the wiser—well, it would save her the pain of knowing the man was still alive. Marcus would spare her the pain, if he could.
 

“Two days, and then I tell Jacqueline everything.”

Devil nodded. “Can you stop her from going back to her father’s?”

Marcus shook his head. “Not without telling her why.”

“She’ll be just as safe there as with Eddington,” Finn put in.

Strangely enough, Devil preferred his wife remain with Eddington. For one, the man felt more like an ally.

“I could try to delay things,” Marcus offered. In truth, he didn’t want to see Jacqueline leave anymore than Devil did. He rather enjoyed having someone to come home to, even if it was another man’s wife.
 

“No,” Devil shook his head. “Finn’s right. She’ll be safe with her father. Besides, word of the move is bound to get out and only add distance between the two of us.”

“You really are trying to protect her,” Marcus said, amazed. It would seem the devil had a heart after all.

“She’s my wife,” Devil said. And he would do anything for her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jacqueline felt the weight of her past and the failure of her marriage as she walked up to her father’s townhouse. For twenty-two years, this had been home.
 

Today did not feel like a homecoming.

Beside her, Henry lifted the lion-shaped knocker.

From within, the familiar cadence of Benson’s footsteps could be heard as the butler crossed the marble foyer floor. A moment later and the door swung open.

“Lady Jacqueline!” Benson exclaimed, a smile brightening his face. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“Hello, Benson. Is my father at home?” Jacqueline smiled. She should have known Benson would have been happy to see her.

“Yes, my lady,” Benson bowed. “Mr. Gates.”

“Benson.” His hand on the small of her back, Henry guided Jacqueline over the threshold.
 

“Shall I inform his lordship you are here?” Benson asked. The entire staff was well aware of the circumstances surrounding Lady Jacqueline’s departure. The house had been silent as a tomb since her ladyship left, the earl locking himself in his study and refusing to come out.