Page 31 of A Duke But No Gentleman (Masters of Seduction #1)

“Forgive our intrusion, Lady Ludsthorpe,” Imogene said, politely ignoring the older woman’s alarm. “It was not our intention to interrupt your evening, but Tristan insisted on bringing me here.”

He had to give his aunt credit. She quickly recovered from her shock at Imogene’s appearance and took charge of the situation.

“He was wise to bring you here,” she said sincerely.

“Tristan, why don’t you carry Lady Imogene up to the drawing room?

She can have some tea while her bedchamber is being prepared. ”

While his aunt slipped away to make her excuses to her family on why she was not joining them, Tristan carried Imogene upstairs and placed her on the sofa.

“You do not have to coddle me like a child,” she said crossly. “What your aunt must think of me!”

At the moment, the countess probably believed the worst of him, but he wisely held his tongue. “I like coddling you, and there is nothing about you that gives me the impression that you are a child.” He absently bent down to kiss her on the cheek, but she shied away from him.

Tristan silently cursed his carelessness. “Do not fret about my aunt. She is a generous soul, and she will open her house to you until you are ready to summon your mother and father.”

The butler entered the drawing room with a heavily laden tray.

“Ah, there’s your tea. It will warm you during my absence.”

“Where are you going?” she demanded as she started to rise from her seat.

“Sit and drink your tea. I intend to speak to my aunt. Our disheveled appearance on her doorstep requires an explanation,” he said, gently coaxing her back onto the cushion. “I will return shortly.”

As he suspected, his aunt was waiting for him as he exited the drawing room. He shut the door so their conversation could not be overheard by the lady within.

“Thank you for taking in Imogene,” Tristan said, genuinely grateful to his aunt. “I wanted to take her directly home, but the notion of her parents seeing her current state was too upsetting. It seemed prudent to keep her calm.”

His aunt jabbed her finger into his chest. “Are you responsible for that poor girl’s condition? She might be covered in one of my sister’s old cloaks, but I noticed she has dried blood on her dress.”

“So naturally you assume I am to blame,” he snarled, more than happy to give his anger a target. “Do you take me for a fool? If I was the one responsible for ravishing her, why would I bring her to my family?”

“Ravished?” his aunt said, clutching her necklace in distress. “Are you certain?”

“Imogene was tricked and has been brutally mistreated. I have yet to get the entire tale out of her, but I have heard enough to understand that she needs more than a tender heart.”

“I’ll send a footman for a physician.”

“I have already given my coachman the task. It is someone I trust. His hands are steady, and he will be discreet. I need your assistance in convincing Imogene to accept his help.”

“This is a travesty. Do you know who hurt her?”

“It was Norgrave.”

The countess swayed, and Tristan worried that she might faint. “Norgrave. Your friend is the one responsible? I cannot believe it.”

“There is no doubt that Norgrave lured Imogene to my mother’s house, so he could—so he could—” He swallowed the rest of his words, unable to speak the thought out loud.

“Tristan, Lady Imogene’s mother and father must be told. You cannot keep this from them.”

“I am aware of that, madam,” he said, in clipped tones.

“As for the marquess…”—his aunt clasped and unclasped her hands—“he must be brought in front of the magistrate for his crimes. I can send a servant—”

“No.” He stepped in front of her to block her from heading downstairs. “I will deal with Norgrave.”

“I understand how you must feel. After all, he is your friend.”

“He was my friend,” Tristan said coldly. “Will you look after her during my absence?”

“Nephew, does the woman sitting in my drawing room know you are planning to kill her attacker?”

Tristan met her gaze unflinchingly. “You do not approve? I’ll admit it seems rather bloodthirsty, but revenge tends to be dark and messy. Besides, someone has to send him to hell.”

The countess made a fretful noise in her throat. “My dear boy, you are not thinking clearly. What good are you to Lady Imogene if you are languishing in prison? She would not approve of you throwing your life away. Allow me to send for the watch.”

“No watchmen. Nor will I be sent to prison.” Not if I am careful. “I spoke rashly. There are ways of dealing with depravity that do not require bloodshed,” he lied with practiced ease. He kissed her sweetly on the forehead.

His aunt remained unconvinced. “Tristan,” she said, a warning in her voice.

“I have to leave,” he said, refusing to be swayed. “Offer Imogene my apologies, though I doubt she will accept them. The physician will be here soon. Tell him to send the bill to me.”

“Stay. Your lady needs you,” she entreated.

Tristan did not bother to deny that Imogene belonged to him. She had rushed into his life and knocked him off his feet, altering his world forever. “Not now. Imogene needs compassion and I am too full of vitriol to be of much help. I will return when I am able.”

He brushed by his aunt and headed for the stairs.

“Send word to the Duke and Duchess of Trevett. Imogene will not thank us for it, but her family should know that she has been hurt. Tell them.” He braced his hand on the ornate post at the top of the stairs and thought.

The last thing he desired was for Imogene’s father to challenge the Marquess of Norgrave.

“Just send word that there has been an accident. Explanations can be made when they arrive.”

“And what shall I tell Lady Imogene?”

Tristan regretted that he was leaving her without kissing her farewell. He had chosen his path and he would not allow anyone to dissuade him from confronting his friend. “Tell her that I will return.”

Satisfied that Imogene was in good hands, he hurried down the stairs where the butler was waiting to open the front door for him. Retrieving his hat from the male servant, Tristan stepped out into the night.

***

Imogene heard the muffled sound of a door closing. Still wearing the cloak Tristan had wrapped around her, she scrambled to her feet just as the door opened and Lady Ludsthorpe hurried into the drawing room.

“I have been dreadfully rude abandoning you to take your tea alone,” the countess said, her right hand moving from her waist to her throat in a nervous gesture. “Pray, remain seated. How are you feeling? Shall I pour more tea?”

“No, thank you,” Imogene said, her eyes shifting to the empty doorway. “Where is your nephew?”

“Oh, dear me, I do not know where that boy has wandered off to,” the older woman said with false cheer.

“Perhaps Tristan wanted a word with Lord Ludsthorpe before he departed to one of his clubs. Or he might be downstairs raiding the stock of brandy in the library. I do not know about you but I would not mind a sip or two.”

Lady Ludsthorpe sat down abruptly next to Imogene on the sofa.

“I dislike brandy.”

Her stomach churned as her thoughts drifted back to Lord Norgrave pouring brandy down her throat—of the glass shattering and Imogene sitting beside Tristan’s aunt with dried blood on her hands.

The elegantly attired countess was a reminder that her dress was in tatters.

All she wanted to do was pull the hood over her head and hide, but she did not wish to insult her hostess.

The lady probably thought her behavior quite odd as it was.

She brought her hand to her face and smoothed the hair from her cheek.

“I hope you do not mind that I took the liberty of having the servants heat some water for a bath. You will feel better once you have washed and put on fresh clothing.”

It was going to take more than hot water and soap to make her feel clean. Her arms and wrists ached from the marquess’s fingers as he had held her down. Imogene did not realize she had whimpered until she noted the compassionate tears in Lady Ludsthorpe’s eyes.

“It was wrong of Tristan to bring me here.”

The lady gently clasped Imogene’s hand. “I do not always approve of the decisions my nephew makes, but he was correct to bring you to me. If you are done with your tea, I will show you the bedchamber I had prepared for you. Many of our guests have proclaimed it the best room in the house.”

Imogene found herself gently maneuvered from the drawing room to the bedchamber upstairs while the countess prattled on about her adult children, Lord Ludsthorpe, and the new cabinet she had recently ordered for the library.

She had always marveled at Tristan’s talent for coaxing the people around him to do what he wanted, but he clearly had been taught by the best.

“You must be overly warm in that old cloak. Why don’t you remove it, and we will find something more comfortable.”

Her hand tightened around the fabric she was clutching, preventing the countess from peeling back the flaps. The condition of the dress was more revealing than the bruises on her face. “Lady Ludsthorpe—”

“Ruth. You may call me by my given name, or simply Aunt Ruth. Over the years, I have collected a fair share of nieces and nephews who are not related to me by blood. It would also please me if we were friends.”

Somehow she had undone the clasp and pried the woolen fabric from Imogene’s fingers.

The cloak fell away and dropped to the floor.

The countess bit her lower lip as concern filled her brown eyes.

“Oh, dear, I do believe the dress is beyond repair. With your permission, I will have it torn into rags and burned. We will find you another dress. Among my three daughters, I am positive we have a dress that will fit you.”

Imogene would like nothing more than to see the dress she was wearing burned until it was ash. “You are too generous, my lady.” At the older woman’s chastening glance, she amended, “Aunt Ruth.”

A soft knock at the door had Imogene taking a step backward.

“Yes?” Lady Ludsthorpe called out.

“Madam, the physician has arrived,” the butler said from the other side of the closed door.

“You never mentioned that you had summoned a physician.” Imogene crouched down and gathered the discarded cloak. She clutched it to her bosom as if it could conceal the damage done. “Is this why Tristan vanished without a word? Is he responsible for bringing the man here?”

The countess took the cloak from her. “Do not be angry at my nephew. He is worried about you. If Tristan had not sent for his man, I would have asked our family physician to tend to your wounds.”

“What was done to me cannot be cured with tonics and bleeding, Lady Ludsthorpe!” she said, knowing she was being unreasonable. With the butler and the physician standing just outside the bedchamber, she felt trapped. “I beg of you, please send him away.”

Having raised five children, the older woman was familiar with tantrums. “Be sensible, Imogene. You must be examined for the sake of your health. Think of your family… and Tristan. He blames himself for failing to protect you from Norgrave.”

Imogene’s expression was sullen as she glared at the countess. “Tristan is not responsible for the marquess’s actions.”

“A logical assumption, I concur. However, my nephew has known Norgrave since they were boys. They have watched over each other for most of their lives. It was simple to overlook the flaws in his friend’s character because love and loyalty blinded him.”

Until this evening, when he had discovered the depths of Norgrave’s depravity.

Was he angry enough to confront his friend? Tristan had been so attentive since he discovered her curled up on the floor of his mother’s bedchamber. Imogene could not believe he would abandon her. More likely, he was waiting downstairs in his uncle’s library.

Still, she could not resist asking, “Ruth, where is your nephew?”

“I do not know,” was her evasive reply, which had Imogene’s eyes narrowing with suspicion. “He promised to return to you, and he is a gentleman who keeps his word. We can discuss this further after the physician has inspected your injuries.”

Imogene stared at the door as if she expected to see Norgrave at the threshold. She shuddered, but to the countess’s immense relief, she nodded.

Lady Ludsthorpe gave her an approving look. “All will be well, my dear. You’ll see. I will even stay so you will not be alone.”

She straightened her shoulders. Tristan had called her brave. If she could not do it for herself, she would find the courage for his sake. “I would like that very much.”