The Scoundrel Duke of her Heart by Violet Hamers
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Just as quickly, his high spirits came plummeting down. “What do you want?” he asked again when she did not respond immediately.
"Nicholas," she said, walking up to him, swaying her body in a manner that was designed to temp. "Your Grace," he corrected her through gritted teeth.
"Fine. Your Grace."
"I don’t have time for this.” He started to walk away but she restrained him with a hand on his arm.
"Oh, you and I both know exactly what I want," she said sweetly. "Deep inside, you know you want the same thing as I do. The eyes never lie, Nicholas. Especially yours." She inched very close to him, too close. He thought she was going to take hold of one of his coat lapels but her hand brushed past his shoulder and opened the door behind him instead. She had always been a trickster. "We should talk. In here. Away from prying eyes and ears."
Nicholas glanced behind him into the dimly lit salon then back at the woman before him. "Whatever you have to say to me can be said here, Miss Whittaker. Amongst the prying eyes and ears."
"Suit yourself." She pursed her lips and looked at him for a moment. "You should know that I was not in support of my mother's approach to the situation."
"I am not interested in your belated opinions." Nicholas removed himself from between her and the open doorway.
"Even if they would give you an easier way out?" she asked smugly.
Nicholas opened his mouth to reply, but closed it, briefly considering the olive branch she appeared to be extending. "I am listening."
Vanessa laughed at finally having him where she wanted him, or so she thought. "If you really are listening, Nicholas, then you should have noticed my use of the past tense in my statement. I said I was not in support of my mother's approach. I have had a change of heart, you see. Now I think she handled the situation quite well. Sorry, Nicholas, but you had your chance."
Nicholas ground his teeth together as a nerve began to work in his temple. Her gaze traveled over him slowly before glancing into the room. "I do have one offer still on the table, though." She moved closer to him again so that her body was almost brushing his. "What say you, Nicholas?" she whispered seductively, her hand playing with his cravat. "Want to rekindle some old memories?"
"What I want is for you to remove your person from my presence, Miss Whittaker. Know your bounds and stay within them.” His voice was dangerously low as he warred with the anger burning within him—most of it at himself for being the veriest of fools. "If it is entertainment you seek, there is a room full of wealthy Lords just down the hallway." He nodded in the direction.
"How dare you?" She stepped away and her hand shot up, angling for his face. He grasped her wrist to stop her. He would not allow himself to be stuck by her. Gently but firmly, he brought her hand down to her side.
"Have a good evening,” he said, turning on his heels and marching to the ballroom.
* * *
On sighting Ernest, Jenny immediately shoved a chattering Daphne into his arms. The girl had been talking about anything and everything in the hopes of cheering her up. Nothing had worked.
"The first waltz is starting," she said to Ernest, and to her surprise, he did not argue. He did not even look displeased. This ought to have made Jenny very happy, but right then, she was too distraught to pay much mind to anything other than her husband whom she had been watching the ballroom doors for his return.
Before he drew Daphne away, he frowned. “Jenny, are you all right? You look pale and out of sorts.”
She mustered a smile. “I am well, Ernest. Now, go and dance while I look for my husband.” She turned away quickly before he could ask more questions.
The days after Vanessa’s revelation had been the most difficult days of her life and she had spent them carefully considering what she knew and what she did not. Sometimes, she was filled with anger and other times grief.
She had refrained from confronting him about it because she dreaded the answer she might receive. If he answered in the affirmative, then it would all be over and she would have nothing. Another of her fears was that acknowledging what she had been told and giving it voice would somehow make it real and Nicholas could be taken away from her for good.
Sighing, she resolved to look for him. It was time to know why he had kept this from her. It was time she discovered his side of the story. Someone touched her arm, stopping her. For a moment, she thought it might be Nicholas.
“Where are you in a hurry to go?” Phineas asked, smiling down at her. He looked impeccable, as usual, and she returned his smile in Ernest.
Something brightened in her when she saw he was at peace with himself tonight. It was good to know that, at least, one of them was doing better. “It’s good to see you, Phineas. And please do forgive my husband—”
“You needn’t apologize, Jenny. I do not fault you in any way.” He smiled and offered her his arm. “Since you are not dancing, shall we take a turn about the room?”
Jenny looked about the ballroom again for Nicholas. He was nowhere in sight and she decided to accept Phineas’ offer. “Yes, we shall,” she said, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow.
As they walked, Phineas tried to engage her in conversation but she was too distracted to pay attention and he noticed. He stopped walking and turned to her. "Hopefully our paths cross again before the evening is over, Jenny."
“Phineas, I…” she trailed off when she spied Nicholas across the ballroom, searching the crowd for her.
His expression hardened on finding Phineas with her, birthing the most absurd idea to ever occur to her. Nicholas had kept his marriage from her and refused to consummate their marriage. She had to know if he even cared about her in a romantic way. “Phineas,” she said, still watching Nicholas waded through the guests to reach them.
“Yes?”
“Flirt with me.”
"I beg your pardon?" Phineas was taken aback at first but then he followed the line of her gaze and understood. “Are you certain you want to do this?”
She nodded, but he still hesitated. “He could duel me for this, Jenny.”
“I won’t let him.” She turned pleading eyes at Phineas. “I need to know something and I need your help. I want to know if he loves me.”
After she explained her reasons, a wide grin split across his face. "It is not every day that one gets to flirt with a beautiful duchess, especially one with brazen hair. And I suppose His Grace could do with a lesson or two.” He leaned close to her ear and began to recite one of his poetic verses. Jenny giggled.
Nicholas’s face hardened more than before. “It appears to be working,” she said.
“Jenny, I have no heir to bequeath my charm and fortune to if your husband kills me tonight. Just look at the murderous intent in his eyes.”
Jenny actually laughed at that. “Worry not, good sir, I shall ensure you are protected from the dragon’s fiery breath.”
Nicholas towered over them, intimidating in his stance. "I will take my wife now," he ground out, taking Jenny’s arm. Phineas let her go, still grinning.
"My evening surely owes its brightness to you, Phineas. Thank you." She said that to further provoke her husband and to show her friend her appreciation. The last thing Jenny saw before being dragged out of the ballroom was Phineas bowing gallantly.
"What in the world were you thinking flirting with him openly like that?" he demanded once they were out of the ballroom. Jenny half-ran to keep up with his strides.
"Perhaps you would like to explain your own attitude first,” she responded as he opened a random door that revealed a rather heated tryst in a dimly lit chamber. Cursing under his breath, he yanked open the opposite door on the left. This room was empty and he pulled her in with him, shutting the door behind them.
“I am not playing games, Jenny. Tell me why you were openly flirting with Sir Phineas.”
"What I want from you is simple, Nicholas." Jenny freed her arm and put some distance between them. "Answers. I want answers and I think that I deserve honesty from you."
“I don’t know what you are on about and I am not going to indulge you. What you did in the ballroom was reckless. People woul—”
“What?” she burst out. “Call you a cuckold? Our marriage is not even real for you to be considered that because of my actions.”
Jenny believed he cared more about his reputation than their marriage and her feelings. “Do not misconstrue my words.”
They would go in circles if she pushed this topic, thus, Jenny confronted him about his lies. “You have been keeping things from me and I demand to know what those secrets are.”
Raking his fingers through his hair, his breath rushed out in a hiss. Impatient, she told him about her encounter with Vanessa and watched as his face progressively blanched with every word that left her lips. Her fears were being realized.
"Tell me it’s not true. Please, tell me," she cried when he said nothing.
On seeing the uncertainty lining his features and the shadow in his eyes, Jenny was suddenly overcome by the urge to do something, anything, to make her stand known, to remind him of their relationship. And without giving it further thought lest she cowered and changed her mind, she went to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing his head down for a kiss.
His response was both hungry and hesitant but he clutched her to him, his body hardening with need as hers was softening. Could he not see that they were made for each other?
“Jenny,” he groaned, his mouth moving over hers, his hands bunching her skirts.
She pressed herself against him but just as quickly as the kiss had begun, it ended and he pulled away. "I will not have this conversation with you here," he said, breathing hard and enfolding her hand in his.
"Where are we going?" she asked when he began to walk toward the door, pulling her with him.
Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked rapidly. Now is not the time for tears, Jenny, she told herself. She must get the answers she wanted from him tonight and see this matter to a conclusion.
"Home,” he replied tersely and opened the door just as the opposite door of the occupied chamber was opened by none other than their hostess, looking slightly disheveled.
"Seaton!" The Duchess of Seagrave said with surprise. “I did not expect to see youhere.” A sheepish smile spread across her features as a handsome and younger-looking man appeared behind her.
They were ostensibly the busy couple they’d nearly interrupted earlier, Jenny gathered. "Duchess," Nicholas said, “We were just on our way to find you.”
"Oh, what for?" she asked, her fine brows furrowing.
"I regret that we must leave sooner than expected."
With a suggestive smile, she looked from Nicholas to Jenny and back. "Oh, you don’t need to make an excuse for that. I completely understand."
Jenny's disappointment only grew at the duchess’s insinuation, for she knew that her relationship with Nicholas was currently on a different course. A course that may very well be its end.
"Care to introduce me to your friends, Beatrice?" The young man asked with a thick accent.
"Perhaps next time, Alexei," she replied, her gaze still locked on them.
Jenny did not care to know about the woman’s Russian lover or how shameless she was. She was only too eager to get away. Slipping her hand from Nicholas’s, she started down the hall after giving the duchess a small nod.