On a Wild Duke Chase: The Wayward Woodvilles Book 2 Page 13

  "Good morning," his lordship said, bowing a little. "I apologize for the early morning call, but I thought it best that I come here today." He gestured to the paper her mama held against her chest like a shield. "I see you have read the latest scandal that is right at this moment waking all of London and revealing my family's woes."

  Her father cleared his throat. "We have read about the dowager viscountess, and we're sorry for your troubles, Lord Leigh, but this is something I believe you ought to have disclosed to me prior to asking my daughter for her hand."

  Lord Leigh seemed to gather himself before he said, "There are many things that I ought to have done differently, Mr. Woodville. But alas, I am human and am not immune to mistakes." He paused, meeting Isla's eyes. "With this information about my family now common knowledge, I know that you cannot marry me. It would not be fair for me to hold you to our understanding, considering the disease that possibly runs through my blood and any children we were to sire. I cannot have such a tragedy befall you too or those close to you who may partake in this downfall by association."

  "You compromised my daughter, Lord Leigh. I think it is a little too late to try to persuade Isla to break ties with you," her father stated, his voice harder than Isla had ever heard before.

  "I think you will find, sir, that with the scandal of my mother and that last evening it was also revealed with certainty that I'm without funds, that no one will remember how it came about that we were engaged. My name will be worthless by this evening, and it is best for Isla and her sisters that we part now and have no further contact between us."

  The pit of Isla's stomach twisted in dread at the thought of what was happening. Of what Lord Leigh was saying. She could understand, and she would be lying if she stated that his words did not bring a little relief that she would not have to marry him. They were not a union made out of love and affection, which is what she had wanted.

  But now, to be separated from him, to know that she would never be with him again, talk to him, have him kiss her until she forgot her own sense and time was not comforting either.

  This whole situation was a mess.

  "We will make it known this evening then, my lord, that the understanding has come to an end."

  Duke met her eyes, and she saw the pain that swirled within his blue orbs. He was hurting from all of this. And now that he had lost her and her fortune, he would hurt even further. "Are you attending Lord Billington's ball this evening?" Isla asked.

  He nodded. "It will be my last before I return to my country estate. Billington is one of my closest friends, and I shall not disappoint him, but that is all." He bowed. "Thank you again for seeing me. Good day to you all," he said, and he was gone.

  Isla wanted to run after him, talk to him, see if it were really as bad as he thought it was. Surely it was not. Not without proof of his mother's illness, what really could anyone say.

  A great deal, she would later find out...

  * * *

  Duke returned to his town house and found his servants busily packing and closing up the house for his return to Hampshire. He strode into his library, slumping down on the settee, his mind a whirl of thoughts. Most of them despondent and worrying.

  He had not wanted to let go of Isla, but it was for the best, for her in any case. He could not marry her and bring her down along with him. Families with those affected in mind with lunacy were not the type of people the beau monde wanted to include in their social spheres or their heritage. She would thank him one day when she found the man who loved her and she in return. A man without so many secrets in his closet.

  He ran a hand over his face. The runner he had sent to Spain would return, and then he would need to figure out how to pay the remainder of his fee. Without Isla, that was now an impossibility. Unless he sold this house, something he was loath to do.

  “Damn it”, he swore, thumping the settee with his fists, not that the outburst of emotion made him feel any better or changed his fate.

  He was ruined, and tonight at the Billington ball, everyone would partake in his downfall, including the woman he loved.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  The Billington ball was a crush, everyone who was anyone in the ton was present, and Isla wasn't fool enough not to know why. They were here to hang one of their own, to watch him squirm and wither under their silk-slippered feet when they trod on him.

  Isla had not wanted to attend. She did not want to be part of what was going to happen, and the sense of trepidation and expectation was thick in the air.

  They made their way into the ball, and Isla went and stood near her sister Hailey and the duke who had arrived before them. She kissed her sister's cheek, dipping into a curtsy before them both. "I'm so thankful you are here. I think tonight I shall need your support."

  "Of course, sister," Hailey said, throwing her a concerned look. "Mama sent a note over this afternoon explaining what was happening. Is it true that Lord Leigh has asked you to end your understanding? That he has a mother, who has been hospitalized in Spain for lunacy since he was a child?"

  Isla nodded, taking a glass of punch from a passing footman. "Indeed it is true, all of it, unfortunately." She drank down a good portion. "He is going to be here tonight, but I fear for how he will be treated."

  "Hmm," her sister murmured. "What do you think of it all?" she asked her.

  Isla opened her mouth to reply but closed it as Lady Francesca, Lady Susan, and Lady Martha joined them. Each of them reached out to take Isla's hand, their faces one of compassion.

  "Oh, dearest Miss Woodville. How sorry we are for you. To be caught up in the scandalous behavior of Lord Leigh is positively horrendous," Lady Francesca said.

  Lady Susan nodded eagerly. "To think that each of us was courted by the man. And all the while, he was looking for a rich bride to stop his pockets from being let. I'm disgusted that you, Miss Woodville, were his victim in the end."

  "I have little doubt," Lady Martha added, "that his following you into the retiring room was planned all along. That he needed his rich bride to fill his empty coffers and to seek out his mother, and you being so innocent and unaware of the rules in town made you easy prey for him."

  The sick feeling that Isla had been living with all day returned with a vengeance, and she thought she may be ill. She took a deep breath, striving to calm herself. Mumbles and gasps sounded, and Isla looked toward the door and saw Lord Leigh enter the room with Lord Billington.

  He did not appear like a man who was ruined. A man whom everyone now knew all his family's secrets. And yet Isla could see in his eyes that they were haunted, shuttered, and on guard.

  "How dare he make an appearance here. The man has no shame," Lady Martha said, distaste twisting her normally pretty mouth.

  "His mother is a lunatic from what I have heard, and we all know that deficiency runs in bloodlines. He is as tainted as one possibly can be. No one will marry him now, even if he does come with a title." Lady Francesca turned up her nose, pleased with her cutting remark.

  "A viscountess is not as well as we can do, ladies," Lady Susan said. "I think we ought to agree that nothing below an earl will do for us."

  The other ladies nodded in agreement, their amused but vindictive gazes swinging back to Lord Leigh.

  He stood with several gentlemen, but his gaze was on Isla. She could see the pain, the shame that thrummed through him, and she hated that he was alone and had no one.

  Anger replaced her silence, and she refused to allow a moment longer of her time listening to their sharp barbs. "If I remember correctly, Lady Susan, you were more than happy to gain the title of viscountess at Lord Billington's country house party. In fact, if memory serves me right, you were quite the tease with his lordship in the hopes that he would pick you out of you three."

  Each of the ladies gasped, and Isla's sister Hailey clasped her arm, laughing awkwardly. "I think my sister means to say…" she began, but Isla wasn't having a notion of it.

&nb
sp; "We do not even know for certain if Lord Leigh's mama is troubled of mind, and there is no medical certainty that such illness is passed along to children," she added. Unsure of that fact but not willing to allow the three vultures before her to slander Lord Leigh over situations that were not his fault.

  "Furthermore, the ills of one's parents is not something any of us can alter. Lord Leigh's father, from what I know, squandered the money and left his son with very nearly nothing to keep the houses and those staffed within them running. I think Lord Leigh ought to be commended for his diligence in trying to keep himself afloat. He could have, as so many young men have in the past, drunk himself into a stupor or married women like you and lived miserable, loveless, passionless lives for the remainder of their days."

  Her brother-in-law, the duke, raised his glass in a toast. "Now that is something I shall toast to, Isla," he said, winking at her.

  Hailey chuckled, and Isla grinned at them both, happy to have their support.

  "How dare you speak to us in such a way, Miss Woodville. Do you know who we are and what we can do to you in society?"

  The duke cleared his throat, stepping forward. "I would suggest you do nothing to my wife's sister unless each of you wish to die old maids and wards of your brothers who shall inherit the bulk of your family's money. If you threaten Isla, you threaten the Duke of Derby. Do I make myself clear?"

  Each of the ladies gaped, their mouths opening and closing like a fish out of water. "We meant, Your Grace, that Viscount Leigh is ruined. Look at him, sad and alone, penniless and without options. He is sunk and will sink further still. No friendship of the duke will save him," Lady Francesca said, malice in her tone. "Even with a title on offer of viscountess, few if any will want it if his mother is mad and therefore mayhap even himself in time."

  "And no one wishes to marry a horse," Isla said, wanting to hurt Lady Francesca at her cruel words toward a man she loved. And she did love him and wanted him still, even with all the troubles he faced.

  He had given her up, let her go to make a future reminiscent of the one she had told him she dreamed of when they first met. A marriage of love and affection, passion and friendship. He had let her go, used his own downfall and disgrace to enable her to slip free. He could have held her to their understanding. He could have married her no matter what rumors circulated in London.

  But he had not.

  She glanced over to him, pushing past the three ladies who stumbled out of her way. Hailey called after her, but she ignored everyone, her sole purpose Duke. With each step toward him, her body came to life, thrummed with purpose and determination. He had let her go, but that did not mean she wanted to be set free.

  Not by him. She loved him, all of him and all that he was to face. She did not want him to do it alone. She wanted to be by his side, holding his hand and tackling all the scary, sad, and nasty things life could throw at them together.

  She wanted him, and nothing would keep her from getting what she wanted. Just as the heroines in her books were strong and brave, she would be too. And by doing so, get all that her heart desired.

  Duke could not tear his eyes from Isla as she came toward him, an Amazonian goddess whose determined strides and eyes that glowed with the same emotion came ever closer.

  His heart stopped at the sight of her, so beautiful and marvelous, strong and brave. Hope rose within him that her coming toward him meant that what he felt for the woman who had captured his heart and soul, everything that made him who he was, felt the same in return.

  She stepped before him, and he ignored the fact that the ball had come to a stop, that people were watching, waiting for the interaction between them to play out.

  They were hoping for a public set down, he knew, and damn it all to hell, he deserved one, but he could not help but pray it would never come. That she was before him, beautiful as ever because she loved him. That she disagreed with his ending their understanding.

  His attention dipped to her lips, and he had never wanted to kiss a woman as much as he wanted to kiss Isla right at this moment.

  "Lord Leigh," she started, a small smile lifting her lips. "About our conversation this morning."

  "Yes," he answered her, praying he was right, what he felt was true. "You wish to discuss the matter further?"

  She nodded, handing her glass of punch to a footman not far from them before taking his hands. "When you mentioned today that you were setting me free of our understanding, you did not give me a chance to respond."

  Which was indeed true, he had not, but he had thought her silence answer enough. That his offer to end their betrothal was welcome. "And you wish to respond now?" he asked her.

  "I do wish to speak on what you suggested, only to tell you that I do not agree. I do not want to be freed from our understanding. I do not want to marry anyone else but you, you see. From the moment I stumbled at your feet, I, too, felt as though our lives would be entwined in some way. At least I hoped they would be, and I do not want to now be with anyone else but you. I love you, you see."

  Gasps sounded about them, and he ignored them all. Wanting only to hear Isla's voice.

  "I love all of you, even the messy bits." She smiled, and he chuckled, his hands squeezing hers, keeping her locked before him.

  "You love me? Even though my mother may be a lunatic? Even though I hunted fortunes before your nose?" he asked, the sound of his sins making him inwardly cringe.

  "Whatever the future holds with the dowager viscountess, we shall deal with it together, as husband and wife, and not allow any of the ton to make a fuss over something that has nothing to do with them."

  Her words made his heart thump hard in his chest. How was he so fortunate to have met her? She was magnificent.

  "As for your fortune-hunting, I think I have chastised you enough regarding that. I understand that men need something to live on as much as the ladies long for titles. I was naive to think that people had more sense than to sell themselves to such futures. But our future will be different, for I love you and will gladly share my life and wealth with you so long as you marry me and love me forever."

  Duke had heard enough. His throat felt thick, and he found swallowing hard. He wrenched her into his arms and kissed her. He forgot where they were and merely lost himself in the feel of Isla back in his arms.

  She felt like home, soft and warm, the rose perfume that she often wore seeping into his senses like a drug. The desperation in their kiss was too much and yet not enough. He wanted more. Much more. A lifetime of this. Her. Them.

  "I will marry you," he said, pulling back, pushing a lock of hair off her cheek to sit behind her ear. "And I promise never to keep anything from you again. You are the other half to my soul, and I never wish to be parted from you."

  She slipped her arms about his neck. "Do you think we could have the wedding brought forward? Two weeks seems like a lifetime to wait," she suggested.

  "I shall procure a special license, and we will be man and wife within a day."

  "That sounds perfect," she said.

  He dipped his head, needing to kiss her again. "I wholeheartedly agree," he said, before he did exactly that.

  Epilogue

  Madrid, Spain

  Isla stared at the estate's name that the runner had given Duke as to the viscountess's whereabouts in Spain. She looked at Duke, who had the same confused, swindled appearance that she knew she sported. Bedlam? Was the institution some sort of foolery? Making a mockery toward those who suffered?

  They walked along the graveled drive, spying several people working out in the gardens. Isla narrowed her eyes, unable to remove the feeling of dread that had settled in her stomach. What was this place? The openness of the yard, the non-guarded gate. It was not how she thought an institution would run to keep those within its care safe from the outside world, which they may not understand.

  An older gentleman with graying hair came out onto the front steps, shading his eyes to see who it was that was visiting. Isl
a smiled at the stranger, hoping it may help them gain answers before they were run off from the place.

  "Lord Leigh, I would recognize you anywhere," the older man stated as if he had been expecting him. "You look like the dowager viscountess."

  Duke flinched at the statement, and Isla took his arm, feeling for him. This would not be an easy reunion if they were to have one. "I've come to see the dowager viscountess if she's up for visitors and if it is allowed here. We were unsure of the rules of Bedlam."

  The older man threw him a confused glance before gesturing them into the house. "Come this way. Her ladyship is on the back terrace." They walked through the Spanish-inspired home. The marble floors and tapestries on the wall made the house feel cooler than the day outside. A welcome reprieve in the endless heat that was Spain.

  They stepped out onto the terrace, and Isla spied a woman dressed in a white, flowing gown and scarf about her hair. She gasped. There was no mistaking Duke and his mother shared the same blood, even from this position.

  The older woman looked to see who had arrived, and her smile faded to one of shock. She stood, her chair scraping on the stone terrace as she did so. Isla let go of Duke and watched with a lump in her throat as mother and child reunited after many years.

  "Duke?" the woman asked, wonder in her voice.

  Isla bit her lip, trying to stem the tears that seemed to want to run profusely all of a sudden.

  "Mother?" Duke asked in return, disbelief in his tone. "You are not mad?" he blurted.

  The viscountess raised her brow, her eyes wide before she burst out laughing, striding toward her child. "No, why on earth would you think such a thing?" She took her son's hands, inspecting him as if he were a newborn babe laid in her arms. "I cannot believe you are here. How did you find me?"

  "A runner," Duke said. He pulled Isla forward, and his mother turned her attention on her. "This is my wife, Isla. We were married during the past Season in town."