The Scoundrel Duke of her Heart by Violet Hamers

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Is she unwell?” Nicholas asked Lady Digby who appeared unconcerned about her daughter running out of the room.

The dowager viscountess’s face was stony. “Perhaps her heart is breaking, Your Grace. What you said to her is enough to shatter her heart.”

“If this is an attempt to make me feel guilty, then you are mistaken in your approach. You and your daughter are my past. You don’t belong here.”

"Are we truly in your past?" Lady Digby returned with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and up the rolled paper from the table. "The shadows of our actions tend to remain constant in our lives, Your Grace. Embrace the inevitable with Vanessa in her rightful place by your side. There can be no other way."

"You should have thought of that before you stole away like thieves in the night. Now, thanks to your reckless actions, this marriage you speak of was never consummated, and as such holds no grounds according to the law. Whereas my current marriage..." he trailed off, pushing down that voice in his head that was trying to remind him otherwise.

"Are we really going down that route, Your Grace?"

For the first time since his arrival that afternoon, he had the upper hand. "I merely state the obvious, Lady Digby."

"Very well," she brushed invisible lint from her skirt, “I am sure the gossip columns would appreciate a change from the Viscount of Down's usual scandals."

Vanessa returned to the room looking more like herself. “Are you well?” Nicholas asked.

She shot him a glare. “You deny me attention and now you seek to know if I am well?”

Nicholas shrugged. This was not the first time a woman swooned or took ill because he did not want her in his life. He stood with the intention of taking his leave but not before his final words to them.

"You claim to love your daughter yet you want to risk her reputation by fighting me."

"Oh, I won't be risking her reputation. I would be opening society's eyes to your true nature as a man that disregards his responsibilities, a man who doesn't care about how negatively his selfish decisions impact others. Society shall get my daughter the justice she deserves."

"Good." He pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time before proceeding to the door. He'd heard enough and protracting the conversation wouldn't change the fact that he had brought this upon himself. The only thing left to do was find a way to clean the situation up.

"Nicholas, please." Vanessa rushed to him, consternation drawing every muscle of her face taut.

"Have a good day, ladies." He tried to wrest his arm free of her grasp.

"Let him go, Nessa dear," Lady Digby called, "the gossip sheets are being written by vultures and we shan't wait for him forever."

As Nicholas departed the Whittakers’ residence, the truth in the dowager viscountess's words sank in and he realized that there was only one way out of this. However damning it might be.

* * *

"Jenny! What a pleasant surprise!" Daphne beamed, immediately abandoning the lace flowers she’d been sewing onto a dress on a mannequin to envelope her in a hug. "Why did you not tell me you were going to call?"

Jenny was glad to find Daphne buried in a surfeit of fabrics and accessories. Keeping herself occupied was better than crying over how her father’s scandals were affecting her. And she was doing something she loved.

"I wanted to see how you are, Daph. Truly see how you are. Announcing my intention would have defeated the aim," Jenny replied, glancing around her friend’s workroom.

It was a shame genteel women were not allowed to trade because Daphne had a real dressmaking talent. At least, she wore some of her lovely creations. "You wanted to catch me with my defenses down,” Daphne said, pulling away and returning to the mannequin.

"Did I succeed?" The pain she had seen in Daphne’s eyes the other day resurfaced but she quickly turned away, taking a lace flower from a small basket and placing it on the cummerbund. After giving it an assessing look, she shook her head and replaced it in the basket.

"It doesn’t fit.” She turned toward Jenny now. “I should ring for tea.”

"You should," Jenny encouraged, knowing that the girl was only seeking a distraction.

“Let’s sit, Jenny.” She motioned toward a sofa on one side of the room.

"How are you, Daph?" Jenny asked after she had ordered their tea and sat down beside her.

Looking down at her interlaced fingers, she sighed before answering. "I confronted Papa…” When she paused, Jenny didn’t press her to continue. Instead, she took her hand and squeezed it to reassure her.

A mirthless chuckle escaped her. "We had quite a row. He neither confirmed nor denied the rumors but I know they’re true. He dismissed all of my questions and would not even give me her name. I have the right to know, do I not, Jenny?"

In all their years together, Jenny had never seen Daphne this distraught. There were shadows underneath her eyes and tiny lines of worry at the outer corners. “Certainly, you do.”

"He said that his affairs are not any concern of mine and that I should give my attention to what is important. The season and finding a husband.” Her chin quivered and her eyes glistened. “How can I find a husband when his every selfish decision affects my prospects? I never felt so alone, Jenny."

"You are never alone, Daph. Never. Know that I will always support you."

“Thank you, Jenny.” She managed a rueful smile as their tea arrived. She jumped at the opportunity to change the subject while she served them. “How is Heartsbay?”

“No lives were lost, thankfully, and Nicholas and his steward have plans in place to care for the people that have lost their homes and livelihood,” Jenny replied.

"That is a relief." Daphne handed her a cup. "And I trust your husband is good, too?"

Jenny allowed herself an inward smile at what Daphne was truly curious about. “Nicholas is… You might be right, Daph. I think Nicholas cares. Something is preventing him from making our marriage real but I want to help him overcome it.”

When he had returned from Heartsbay last night, he’d been out of sorts but he sought comfort from her. Jenny had been tempted to initiate some intimacy but felt it was not right. She felt selfish for thinking of her pleasure at that moment.

"I have tried to take your advice about being bold but each time, I did it with a barrier to protect myself," she continued. "I have now resolved to lower that barrier the best time I approach him.” She smiled. “I think I am not afraid of taking a risk any longer.” Jenny wanted to draw her husband out of his head where all the bad thoughts that were hampering their romance were.

Daphne's countenance immediately changed at this pronouncement and her eyes that had been glistening with unshed tears now gleamed with excitement. “That is how you romance a man, Jenny: By being fearless.”

“It has taken some time but I am ready to be.”

"I am truly happy for you, Jenny," Daphne said. "God knows that one of us deserves to be happy.”

"Your own happiness is coming, too, dear friend," Jenny reassured her, thinking of Ernest.

Daphne chuckled but Jenny could sense her uncertainty. "I am Daphne Bexley. Good fortune would dare not forget me," she declared.

"Now, that is the spirit." Jenny sipped her tea as she thought of more ways to get her friend and Ernest together.

* * *

"Are you seeking to get me foxed?" Ernest asked, looking dubiously at Nicholas as he refilled his empty snifter for him. "You dragged me out here but all you have been doing for the past hour is hedge about your reason for asking to meet while making sure my cup does not run dry."

"Go on," Nicholas replied, sitting back and folding his arms as he motioned with his chin for Ernest to drink. "You will need some of your faculties compromised for what I am about to tell you and only the brandy can do that. Drink."

"Oh, speak, man! It is unlike you to preamble and trick people. What is so bad that I need only half of my senses functioning to be told?"

Nicholas took a fortifying breath before saying, "I may have ruined my life, Ernest."

"Good Lord!" Ernest sat up, his eyes wide. "Who is the mother?"

"What?" Nicholas blinked as his brows drew down over his eyes. But then they quickly rose as the realization of his cousin’s meaning dawned. "Rest assured that I have not sired a bastard. This situation I find myself in is much more complicated than that. It—”

"Who did you kill, then?" Ernest interrupted him, tossing back his liquor.

"You, if you do not quit giving me clever remarks and listen," Nicholas almost snapped, his patience ebbing with every word that left his lips.

Earnest held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Put the dagger back, man. You want my attention and I am giving it to you which is not easy considering..." he threw a meaningful glance at his empty snifter on the table.

"Apologies," Nicholas mumbled before taking his own glass and finishing its contents in one gulp. "What I meant to say was that I am married."

The salon they occupied at White’s was immediately filled with Ernest’s laughter. Heads would surely have turned in their direction had they not been the only gentlemen in the room. "I see you are further into your cups than I am, Nicholas. Of course, you are married. To Jenny, too, in case you need reminding."

Nicholas shook his head and reached into his coat to remove the marriage document, which he handed to Ernest. "Not to Jenny."

Sensing the gravity in his tone, Ernest sobered and took the rolled paper. Nicholas watched the play of emotions on his face as he scanned the sheet. "What is this, Nicholas?" Ernest asked gravely.

"Exactly what you see. My marriage is to—"

“No!” Ernest shot to his feet, his face contorting with rage.