Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage

CHAPTER 37

James came barreling into the morning room where Lily and Devon were having afternoon tea. Annie and Jordan had already left to go to Colton House and meet Ashbourne’s brothers. Justin sat in the corner playing with the toys he’d received for Christmas just that morning. The three dogs sat happily watching.

“Where is she?” James tossed the note that Kate had left for him, the one that said she couldn’t marry him and was leaving for the Continent as soon as possible, on the table in front of them.

Lily’s biscuit dropped to her plate. She and Devon exchanged glances.

“Where is who?” Devon barely glanced up from his cup.

“Kate. She’s gone,” James ground out.

“Gone?” Devon’s eyebrows shot up and he gave his wife a suspicious stare.

James clenched his fist. “Damn it, Colton. I’ll rip this bloody house apart if you don’t tell me where she is!”

Colton set down his cup and placed his hands on his hips. He returned James’s angry stare. “First of all, there is a child present.” He glanced at Justin who had turned around to watch. The child’s dark eyes were as wide as the dogs’ collars. “And secondly, I do not know where she is, Medford. And I won’t have you raising your voice to my wife who apparently does know.”

Lily made a great show of smoothing her skirts. “Yes, I know. But I cannot tell you. And neither can Annie.” She looked a bit guilty and a bit reluctant. “I’m sorry, Medford.”

“So, there you have it,” Colton replied. “Kate asked Lily and Annie to keep it secret and they are honoring her wishes.”

James lunged at Colton. Lily jumped up and placed a hand on his chest. James took a step back.

The three of them stared at each other. James was breathing heavily, his eyes shooting fire at Colton. Justin raised his eyebrows and turned back around to attend to his toys.

James turned away from Colton with a jerk, straightened his jacket, and ran his fingers through his hair, disheveling it. “Fine,” he ground out. “I’ll find her myself.” Turning on his heel, he stalked from the room.

Lily and Devon watched him go, each shaking their heads.

“Poor Medford.” Lily sighed.

“What the deuce has got into that chap?” Colton asked.

“I cannot believe that was our James,” Lily added.

Colton shook his head. “It seems positively impossible, I admit. But I do believe Lord Medford has fallen in love.”

James spent a bloody fortune. He’d bribed the proprietors of every hotel in London and the surrounding vicinity. If Kate was staying anywhere in the lower half of the country, by God, he’d intended to find out. He nearly called Mr. Horton, to track her down.

She was not, however, staying at a hotel. And his money, in fact, was not what found her.

As he did every morning at precisely seven-thirty, Locke delivered his employer’s perfectly pressed copy of the Times.

James accepted the paper in the midst of his stack of correspondence, his cup of black coffee, and his urgent business papers. Somewhere in between his third bite of eggs and toast, he carefully shook out the front page and casually scanned the headlines.

After dutifully reading the business news and parliamentary proceedings, James flipped the pages to the Society section. He’d had his eye on a certain story. Seemed the entire town wanted to know the answer to the same question he did. Where in the hell was the newly exonerated dowager Duchess of Markingham? And it seemed while there was quite a bit of conjecture, no one, including himself, knew. Damn it. Had she managed to leave for the Continent already? Had she slipped out of town that quickly without anyone becoming the wiser? It didn’t seem possible, but as the days passed with no sighting of her, it began to seem more and more likely.

Minutes later, Locke reentered the breakfast room clearing his throat. “Lady Eversly to see you, milord.”

James snapped up his head. “Lady Catherine? To see me? At this hour?”

Locke tactfully kept his eyes downcast. “She indicated it was quite urgent, my lord.”

“Very well. Show her in.”

Not two seconds later, Catherine Eversly swept past Locke into the room. She wore her white-blond hair in a chignon and her ice-blue silk gown clung to every curve of her perfect figure. Catherine was a beauty, and she knew it. Neither friend nor foe, she and James shared a sort of peaceable trust. She was also quite married.

“So glad you invited me in, Medford,” she said with a regal shake of her head. “Or that might have been a bit awkward.”

Locke gave the woman a narrow-eyed glare before retreating from the room after a nod from his master.

James stood, pulled the napkin from his lap, and bowed. “Lady Catherine. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Catherine swept forward, her fine white-blond eyebrow arched. James always got the feeling that he was standing in the presence of royalty when Catherine entered a room. More like Marie Antoinette than Queen Caroline, however. And Catherine was always up to something.

James gestured to the rosewood chair next to him. “Please have a seat. May I offer you some breakfast?” He nodded to a waiting footman, indicating to fill a plate, but Catherine waved a well-manicured hand impatiently in the air.

“No, no, I couldn’t possibly eat. I’ll simply have a cup of tea.”

Another nod to the footman and a china teacup appeared in front of Catherine. She slid into the chair next to James and leaned enticingly toward him. Catherine always knew how to display her—ahem—self to her best advantage even at this hour of the morning.

“You surprise me, my lady, I didn’t think you rose until after noon.”

Catherine smiled her infamous feline smile and dipped a silver spoon into her teacup to stir. “My, my, we are formal this morning. You haven’t called me by my title in an age. And I never rise before noon if I can help it.”

James eyed her over his coffee cup. “I know you haven’t come to discuss our first-name basis. So tell me, why are you here? What’s got you out of your bed at such an early hour?”

Catherine picked up her cup and brought it to her lips. She took a sip and put it down with a little flourish. She nodded toward the paper James held in his hand. “See the latest?” she asked with an unmistakable sparkle in her eye.

He lifted his brows. “About?”

“Ah, don’t play coy with me, James. I happen to know you have the Times open to page five.”

James glanced briefly at the page in his lap. Page 5. He quickly folded it and tossed it onto the gleaming mahogany tabletop. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, I know you are interested in the whereabouts of the dowager Duchess of Markingham.”

James struggled to keep his face blank. He knew Catherine well enough to know the lady never got directly to the point. She would tell him what she had to say in due time and he would endeavor to keep from throttling her while he waited.

“Do you have news for me?” he asked in a steady voice.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Why else would I be here at this ungodly hour?”

His voice simmered. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Tell me, Catherine. Do you know where Kate is?”

“Of course I do, you daft man.” She took another sip of her tea and regarded her fingernails leisurely. “She happens to be staying with me.”