Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

A fter a time, Christian rose and left the ladies to it, heading to his study to check the letters that had been delivered.

He was accustomed to a great number of invitations, but since his marriage, they had exploded to an unmanageable degree. He enjoyed Society to a point—it served a purpose, after all—but he did not appreciate having his time monopolized by gossips and simpering well-wishers.

I have a club to run, which I must go back to as soon as possible.

He entered his study and spotted the silver letter tray on his desk. He frowned as he approached it.

Was there not a larger number than this when I reviewed them earlier?

Dismissing the thought, he assumed that Fenwick had gone through the pile and sorted the wheat from the chaff as he often did with his correspondence.

Sitting down at his desk, Christian sifted through the pile, paying careful attention to each letter. For many months now, he had given up hope that there would be a letter from his brother, but he checked them eagerly just the same.

Lowering the envelopes to his lap, he turned in his chair to look out at the gardens. His study was in a side wing of the house, and he could just see the edge of the table where Louise and her mother were sitting.

I did not expect her to show such fire against her father.

Christian was ashamed to admit that when he had made the deal to marry Louise, he had barely thought of who she was at all. Other than their interesting conversation at the masquerade ball, he had believed her to be fairly unimportant—a pawn to her father and a means to finding out the truth about Marcus’s disappearance.

Now, he regretted dismissing her so easily. The Earl was a formidable man, three times the size of his daughter, yet she had told him in no uncertain terms to leave their home.

Our home.

That concept seemed foreign to him. His stomach clenched as he acknowledged, not for the first time, that this marriage was forever. Louise lived with him now. He would see her every day for as long as they lived.

He looked down at the letters, unfolding the top one with more force than he had intended and nearly ripping it in two.

It was yet another invitation, but this event he would definitely attend. The Barringtons’ ball was one of the most exclusive events of the Season. Christian and Marcus had to prove themselves several times over to receive this particular invitation. He would never dream of declining it.

He picked up his quill and wrote a short RSVP, before setting it aside with the letters to be sent out later that day. Many of the other letters were missives from his banker, but there was also a thick envelope from Daniel Willis. Christian opened it swiftly, finding inside the draft trust agreement for Louise. He reviewed it with some interest, his blood thrumming pleasantly in his veins at the thought that his wife would forever be protected from her father’s misdeeds.

About half an hour later, a gentle knock sounded at the door.

“Enter!” he called as he pulled on his coat, ready to leave for his club.

Louise came in, her face flushed from the chill outside, her eyes bright and curious. They skimmed over him as she pushed open the door, and then she glanced nervously at his desk. Christian hid a smile—what he wouldn’t give to repeat those few moments where he had held her in his arms.

Another time, I am already late.

“My mother is leaving,” she said stiffly. “I wanted to ask if I could send her home in your carriage.”

“Of course,” he replied. “It is your carriage, too—you do not need to ask.”

She nodded.

Christian expected her to leave, but instead, she stood there, clasping her hands behind her back, her eyes darting around the room.

“I wanted to thank you,” Louise said.

Christian tugged at his coat for the final time, raising an eyebrow at her curiously. “What for?”

Louise hesitated.

Am I really going to thank this man for helping me, when he is one of the most arrogant men in England?

“For defending me against my father. You did not have to do that.”

Christian scoffed, and she held back the urge to roll her eyes at his superior attitude.

“I will not be insulted in my own home. You are an extension of my position here, I will not listen to him ridicule your pursuits either. Besides, you did not need me to defend you—you did a good enough job of that yourself.”

He rounded the desk, pocketing a letter as he did so, and she felt a surge of unease at him leaving again.

Is this what this marriage will be like? Me waiting for him to return from his club at all hours of the night?

“Are you leaving?” she asked, irritated by the imploring tone of her voice.

Christian did not seem to notice, turning to face her and nodding as he straightened his sleeves. The jacket he was wearing was cut so close to his body that it looked like a second skin.

“I need to return to Orions, yes.”

“I know so little about it. My father has spoken many times about The Devils… Is Orions so different?”

Christian snorted. “It is superior in every sense of the word. We have the finest membership in London and a long waiting list.”

Louise crossed her arms over her chest. “But what is it that makes it so superior ? I do not understand how one can be so different from the other.”

“Apart from your father’s mismanagement and gambling, you mean?”

Louise balked at his tone and opened her mouth to argue, before closing it again in dismay.

“He did gamble your life on a deck of cards,” Christian added, but his voice was softer this time.

He wasn’t crowing about it, simply stating a fact.

I suppose there is no use in denying that my father has gambled away half of his fortune. Everyone in London seems to be aware of it.

“Well then, explain it to me. You are a founding member, are you not?”

Christian leaned back against his desk, impossibly tall and handsome. It seemed as though he were contemplating whether to give up his valuable time to answer her questions. Louise found that she was desperate for him to stay and spend more time with her—it was infuriating.

“Orions was set up because of your father.”

Louise frowned. “What? Why?”

“Do you remember many years ago when I met you in Northbridge Manor? We had just had a particularly unpleasant interview with him.”

“Of course, I remember,” she declared. “That was the first day I met Marcus.”

Christian’s jaw clenched as his hands came to rest on the desk, his knuckles white against the wood. Louise waited for him to continue.

“We asked your father for an invitation to his club, and he refused. I told Marcus that we did not need The Devils to be members of an exclusive club; we would start one of our own. And we did. The decision was made in the carriage on the way back home—I suppose I should be grateful to your father. I have made a lot of money because of his prejudice.”

“And do you have many members?”

“Hundreds. Most of them are peers and members of Parliament.”

“And is it as hard to join as my father’s club?” she asked peevishly.

“Marcus and I vet every new member if that is what you mean. But the men who come through our doors are not merely judged on good breeding, wealth, and wit. They are required to have a certain something about them—I hate to be bored, you understand, and I only allow interesting fellows to join Orions.”

Louise chewed on her lip to keep from laughing. “Are you suggesting that my father is not interesting?”

“It hardly matters,” Christian proclaimed, his words clipped and cold. “He will never be a member.”

“Are you still planning to destroy The Devils?” Louise asked, a twinge of unease in her gut. His arched eyebrow made her temper rise once more.

“Not necessarily destroy it ,” he replied solemnly, “but certainly continue to outshine it. I intend for Orions to rival any club in the city by next year.”

Louise stepped forward angrily. “You do realize that if you destroy my father’s livelihood, it will hurt my mother too?”

Christian bowed his head. “Naturally. But I am afraid, Duchess, that your father has already destroyed a great deal of his livelihood without any help from me.”

“You would see my mother on the streets?”

Christian pursed his lips. “Might I remind you that I saved both you and your mother from many lecherous men when I married you, Duchess? Lord Archibald Mortimer was sniffing around, and he is a prig and a curmudgeon. He would have thought nothing of turfing your mother out if it meant getting his hands on her townhouse. Moreover, if I had not made this deal with your father, some fool might have bought your hand, only for your father to lose the money on a roll of a dice.”

“You are being purposefully obtuse,” she spat.

Christian’s answering laugh made her blood boil. He stepped forward and pulled his gloves out of his pocket, tugging them on with practiced ease. They were unmarked and appeared brand new—flawless, just like the rest of him.

I wonder what he would do if I untied his cravat out of pure spite?

“Careful, Duchess,” he said in a rumbling, intimate voice that sent a shiver through her. His eyes bored into hers without an ounce of apology. “You are playing a dangerous game, and you do not know all the rules. Your father has backed himself into a corner of his own making, and I am merely preventing him from escaping from it.”

He pushed the leather button at the base of the glove through the narrow buttonhole, never tearing his gaze away from her face.

“I would argue that you should be doubly grateful to me,” he continued. “Your father is in my debt and therefore has little power over anything. I know what a bad man can do to a family if left unchecked.”

Louise searched his face for any clue as to what he might be thinking or feeling, but the mask was back in place. She longed to learn more about his life.

“Is that what happened to your father? Did you manage to check him too?” she blurted out before she had fully thought through what she would say.

Christian grimaced as he stepped away, giving a final tug to his coat, his eyes trained on the floor.

“We are not here to speak about my father,” he said gruffly. “If yours behaves himself, I may be willing to be lenient. He has nothing to fear if he does as he is told. I am sorry for your mother, but she knows better than anyone the sort of man she is married to. We both know one has little agency in escaping such things.”

His eyes flashed at her then, anger and hurt roiling in their depths. Louise opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could do so, he walked out of the room, leaving her behind, with only the scent of his cologne for company.