Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

C hristian donned his top hat and tails and headed to Orions for the afternoon, determined to put his new wife out of his mind.

He needed to speak to his solicitors about the deed to the Earl’s townhouse in any case, and it would give him a good excuse to escape for a few hours.

Leaving her alone so soon after the wedding was probably a bad idea, but he rather relished the notion of irritating her further. She was even more beautiful when she was fuming.

After a short carriage ride, he walked into his club. As soon as he caught the familiar scent of leather, fine wine, and cigar smoke, his mind settled, and he headed to the office he shared with Gabriel and Marcus.

Gabriel was one of the founding members of Orions and was instrumental in its establishment. He also recruited many of the wealthier members and, despite his rather standoffish nature, was skilled in diplomacy. He sorted out more scraps and arguments than anyone else at the club and was famous for his calm head in crises.

Therefore, when Christian walked into the office and found him buried in ledgers and scribbling on a wide scroll of parchment, his spirits lifted considerably.

“Good afternoon, old man,” he said jovially as Gabriel looked up at him.

“Are you speaking to me again?” Gabriel asked archly. “How predictable.”

“What? When did I stop speaking to you?” Christian protested.

“I thought I had insulted you by disapproving of your bride. How is the marriage bed? Just as you left it?”

Christian shot him a long, disapproving glare.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Turned coy, have you? I always knew a lady would be your downfall.”

“Do go to the devil,” Christian muttered without much heat.

“Whatever has you in such a lather?”

“I am not in a lather. I am visiting my club, and my closest friend is being tiresome,” Christian scoffed. “Is Willis here?”

Gabriel returned to his ledger. “He is. I saw him at the Bridge table not an hour ago. He’s not in a fit state to advise, though. I think he rather over-imbibed at lunch.”

“No matter. I can discuss the deed with him, at least.”

Gabriel paused his writing and looked up at him with a glint of interest in his eyes. “The deed to Northbridge Manor? What do you intend to do with it?”

“Never mind. Will I see you later? Armitage is being an ogre again, and I could use your presence to dissuade him from any more roughhousing.”

“What a bore the man is. Yes, I imagine I can throw my glove into the ring.”

Christian collected the deed from his desk drawer and headed to the door before Gabriel called him back.

“How is your Duchess? You must give me a little clue, at least. Is she just as terrible as I suspected?”

Christian felt the same irrational spike of annoyance at any criticism of Louise. “Did I not already tell you to go to the devil? I shall do so again.”

And then he closed the door to the sound of Gabriel chuckling heartily at his expense.

Christian found Willis, his solicitor, in the card room. It was a smaller parlor than the others in the club, but it was one of his favorites. Smoke coiled around the ceiling, and a raucous game was going on at one of the smaller tables made up of the younger patrons.

Many of the Bridge players looked at them reproachfully as another loud trick was played. Christian suppressed a smile as Willis turned to shout at them, only to see him approaching and shut his mouth.

Willis stood up, his pot belly hanging over his trousers and his heavy mustache bristling as he smiled and took Christian’s hand. “I was remiss in not speaking to you after the wedding, Your Grace. I do hope I didn’t offend you. Blasted work.”

“Not at all. I was glad you could come.”

“Were you seeking me out or just showing your face about your excellent establishment?”

Christian chuckled. Willis was one of the most cheerful men he’d ever met and one of the busiest. He had come to London without a penny to his name and now represented some of the finest clients the ton had to offer. Christian considered himself lucky to be among them.

“Might I bend your ear for a spell? There’s a glass of brandy in it for you.”

The solicitor’s skin was already flushed from too much drink, but he clapped him enthusiastically on the shoulder and nodded. “Anything for my favorite client. I shall return, boys. Dummy me in, won’t you!”

There was a chorus of groans from the Bridge table he had just abandoned, but he paid them no mind as Christian led him to two chairs before the fire. As they sat down, Christian produced the deed and handed it over.

Willis was a pleasant man, but he had little patience for small talk when it came to business, so Christian got straight to the point.

“I have won the deed to the Earl of Northbridge’s townhouse. I know the man doesn’t have two pennies to rub together. I wanted to ask if I would be able to entail it to my wife.”

Willis, who had begun reading the document, looked up at him and raised his eyebrows. “You are speaking about the former Louise Dawson, the Earl’s daughter?”

“I am.”

“Whyever would you do that?”

Christian gripped the arms of his chair, keeping his temper in check. It would not occur to many men, Willis included, to give any property to a woman, but he was determined to do it.

“Her father sold her to me, Willis, without so much as a backward glance over a hand of cards. She would have been left homeless if he had lost in any case. The man has no interest in caring for his family. I intend to ensure that she has some capital behind her should anything happen to me. He is mired up to his neck in debt—I would not wish her to be touched by that.”

“And yet you married her following an agreement over a hand of cards.” Willis’s bushy eyebrows lowered.

“That is none of your concern. I intended to protect the lady. The game became an auction within the same room. I have long since wanted to knock down the Earl a peg or two. I achieved that, and now I wish to do right by her.”

Willis clearly wasn’t happy about the circumstances, but he made a sort of gurgle in the back of his throat that Christian interpreted as acquiescence.

“Very well.” He squinted at the document. “It is easy enough for me to draw up a marriage settlement. We could create a trust for her entitlement, including the deed to the townhouse, to protect the assets from mismanagement or claims by third parties like her father’s creditors. We could also arrange for the townhouse to be passed on to her, or rather your children, should anything happen to her.”

Christian’s stomach clenched at the reminder of how long Louise intended to leave him without an heir. The mere thought of not being able to touch her for a full year was horrible enough. When Willis frowned at him, he schooled his features into a neutral expression and nodded.

“A trust would be ideal.”

“Do you wish to restrict the Earl’s access to the property in the meantime?”

“No. I would not wish to disrupt Lady Northbridge’s life. She is close to her daughter.”

“Very well. I’ll take this with me tonight, have a copy drawn up, and return it tomorrow. I’ll have the settlement with you by the end of the week.”

Christian felt the tightness in his chest ease, and he held out a hand. “My thanks to you. You are, as ever, quite indispensable.”

“Hmm. Well, I shall bill you accordingly, of course, and I still haven’t had my brandy.”

Christian huffed a laugh and beckoned a servant over, bidding the older man goodbye as he ordered a large measure of brandy for himself.

As he left the cardroom, he detected a familiar scent in the air, and all the tension came thundering back within a few seconds.

A woman was approaching him, her hips swaying in a subtle way he knew well. A dark, shimmering blue gown hugged her comely figure, and her blonde hair was arranged in a complicated style about her head. Christian’s hands clenched into fists instantly, and the reaction surprised him.

What he had told Louise was true—he had no intention of taking a lover. Yet, having the evidence of his past misdeeds thrown in his face the day after his wedding was irritating, to say the least.

Lady Cynthia Carruthers was a beautiful widow who frequented the club. Her figure and sensual charm had once attracted him like no other, but now it left him feeling cold.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace.” Her eyes ran over his figure very slowly.

How did I ever find this woman attractive? In comparison to Louise, she is positively plain.

“Good afternoon, Lady Carruthers,” he greeted stiffly. “It is good to see you at the club again.”

In truth, he had not seen her for several weeks, but the last time they had spoken, she ended up in his bed. He now felt very guilty for it, as though he had betrayed Louise in retrospect.

“So formal, Your Grace… Are you feeling well?”

Her hand slid up his arm, and he moved away without a conscious thought. He gripped her wrist, and she looked up at him in shock. But then her pupils dilated with desire.

“You must be aware of my wedding, Lady Carruthers.”

She tittered. “I am, Your Grace. A marriage without love. Everyone knows it is so.” She stepped closer to him. “You and I both know what you really need from a woman, Christian.”

He recoiled at the sound of his name on her lips, revulsion climbing up his throat as he glanced at the patrons sitting nearby.

“I know we have shared something in the past, but we will not be doing so again. Is that understood?”

The lady’s eyes darkened with anger, and her painted lips curled into a sneer of intense displeasure. “Really? I would not have thought, with your lineage , you would have any issue with lying with a woman who was not your wife.”

Her eyes flashed, and Christian’s grip on her wrist tightened such that she winced. Without another word, and aware of the many men in the room, he pulled her roughly into the corridor and toward the main entrance of the club.

Jarvis, his burly steward, looked up from the desk opposite the entryway and came out swiftly, prepared to do what was needed.

Christian pushed Lady Carruthers toward him—not too roughly, but not gently either.

“Next time you try to disrespect my Duchess, I will not be so forgiving, Lady Carruthers. Is that clear?” His voice was ringing with fury now.

She scoffed in his face, her fingers curling into her skirts, her nails digging into the fabric. “That Ice Queen would not know how to care for her husband, Your Grace. And we both know if you turn your back on me, you shan’t be seeing me in your bed again.”

Christian glanced at Jarvis, whose expression was utterly blank, but there was no denying that this was an embarrassment he could have done without.

“If you cross this threshold at any point in the future, I will ensure that the precious reputation you hold so dear is ruined for all time. Jarvis, see this lady out, please.”

He caught her trying to take a swing at him just before Jarvis encircled her wrist lightly with his thumb and index finger, and she stilled instantly.

“This way, please.”

Jarvis did not need to ask her a second time.

Christian turned to go back into the club to attend to any business he might have neglected, but then he hesitated. He heard the lady’s protests as she was manhandled out the door and waited until she had made it a good way down the street before having his carriage called.

He was desperate to see Louise now—that was the truth. Lady Carruthers had unsettled him and made him feel a strange sense of urgency, as though he needed to reassure himself that Louise still belonged to him.

I have only been married one day, and already I am hurrying home to my wife. Whatever has become of me?