Page 10 of Promised to the Worst Duke in England (Disreputable Dukes of Club Damnation #2)

June 27, 1815

Denham House

St. James Place

Mayfair, England

Wallace Denham came into the morning room to join his wife for breakfast with a letter in hand. Since Abigail was already seated and enjoying a cup of tea, he settled into a chair beside her.

“I’ve had a missive from my cousin Miriam.” She was a daughter of an earl and his cousin from his mother’s side. Incidentally, it was through him that Averly had met her, and they’d rubbed on so well, she’d gone under his protection as his mistress.

Abigail glanced at him with shadows in her eyes. “Oh? How is she? Still in good spirits?”

“As much as anyone can be when dying.” A wave of grief went through his chest as a footman came to the table and filled his cup with strong coffee. Immediately, the rich and robust scent of the dark brew wafted to his nose. Was there any better scent? “She tells me that she doesn’t expect to live past the end of July, according to her physician.”

“How truly sad. I’m really going to miss her.” Tears welled in her eyes as she set her teacup onto the saucer which was on the table. “It’s horrible she’s contracted such a sickness that takes her away a bit more each day.”

“Agreed.” He nodded his thanks when the footman brought a plate loaded with favorite breakfast foods. “In any event, her letter is two days old, and what is more surprising, she paid a visit to Averly Hall.”

“What?” Abigail’s eyes rounded. “That was quite a bold choice. Whyever for?”

He shuffled the few pages of stationery then pointed to a paragraph. “Because she is dying, she went to Kent in order to tell Averly and to end their relationship.”

“What did he say? I don’t imagine it would help his already maudlin and oftentimes volatile mood.”

“There’s the rub. Averly apparently wasn’t available. She said he’d no doubt taken himself off drinking, for things weren’t the best between him and his wife.” Wallace shrugged. “So she asked to talk with the duchess.”

“What?” Questions lined his wife’s face. “And?”

“And it seems she had a heart-to-heart talk with the new Lady Averly. Miriam admitted that she had fallen in love with the duke, but she didn’t have the courage to tell him that she was dying because she didn’t want him to grieve for her.”

“Yet he would regardless.”

“I know.” He nodded then paused to take a much-needed sip of coffee. “Miriam gave a few instructions to the duchess and also told her that she hoped Lady Averly would learn to love the duke, for he needs that in his life.” After a few bites from his hamsteak, he continued. “She instructed the duchess that he was broken and had secrets, but he was worthy of love even if he didn’t believe it.”

“Did Lady Averly believe her?”

“There is no way to tell how exactly that conversation went, but Miriam said she was receptive if quite possessive.”

“Really.” Abigail’s eyebrows soared toward her hairline. “She was possessive of him? When she didn’t wish to marry him to begin with?”

“Exactly. Lady Averly said he belonged to her, and that she had married him, where Miriam hadn’t managed that feat.” Amusement bubbled through his chest even though he was saddened to know that his cousin wasn’t long for the world. “So there is that.”

“How fascinating.” A slow smile curved her lips.

“Indeed. And apparently, she’d spoken with one of the footmen before the duchess attended to her. It seems on his wedding night, Averly acted like a beast.” What the hell was going on with his friend? “Carried his new bride down to dinner after she refused, then proceeded to argue with her, ending with him claiming her by force on the table. Afterward, he destroyed a fair bit of the room, even threw a chair through one of the windows.”

“My goodness.” Abigail laid her fork down on her plate then dabbed the corner of her mouth with the linen napkin. “It sounds to me that there are high emotions from both colliding with each other.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Strong personalities will often clash. I must wonder, though, if either of them will survive this, possibly ill-fated match.”

“It might not be as ill-fated as we think. Oftentimes, when two people are fighting to be heard, are insisting on making certain they won’t become lost in a new relationship, there will be histrionics on both sides.” Her shrug pulled the bodice of her morning dress taut across her breasts, and damn he couldn’t wait to have her naked and wanting beneath him. “Perhaps they will come to an understanding soon.”

“Perhaps.” He took refuge in his coffee once more.

“Why don’t you send one of the men from the club out to Averly Hall? At the very least, someone should check on the poor man, for if he is struggling mentally, he could use a friend.” The compassion in her eyes never failed to make him want to throw himself to his knees at her feet and promise her the world. “Or else you go, Eggleton.”

“Why should I immerse myself into such a mess?” He well knew the demons Averly struggled with, and he also knew that if someone made a suggestion to the man, it was a sure way to have him do the opposite.

“Because he is your friend.” She frowned at him, and the urge to kiss her grew strong. “He needs someone to talk with, for unless I miss my guess, he’s hurting and confused by now. Especially if he’s at sixes and sevens by his new wife.”

“Even more reason for me to stay home with you. Averly can puzzle it out for himself. In fact, I’m willing to wager he’ll have to.”

She shook her head. “I fear the two will kill each other if their differences are too bad.”

“Perhaps not.” Wallace took another bite of his hamsteak.

“True. Sometimes, when a couple fights like cats and dogs in the beginning, it usually means when those emotions make the leap into love, the result will prove spectacular.”

“I am well aware of that.” That is what had occurred between him and Abigail. He sent her what felt like a cheeky grin. “Besides, you and I will attend his midsummer ball in a few days, so we can see how the couple acts for ourselves.”

“I’d forgotten about that. Now I must have my maid help me choose a lovely gown. I do so wish to make a good impression on Averly.” She winked. “And on you.”

“Well, if you insist that I dance with you, I shall look forward to having you out of the aforesaid lovely gown.” With another grin, he tucked into his breakfast with gusto.

“Ah, Eggleton, you are adorable.” She shook her head as she accepted the refresh of tea in her cup. “Still, send one of the club members. I’m curious and can’t wait.”

“Very well.” He took another sip of coffee. “I’ll encourage Udolpho to go. He needs to get out more in any event. There is something about that particular man that puzzles me. If he ever falls into parson’s mousetrap, that will be a story for the ages, I think.”

But then, all the men in Club Damnation were larger than life. Him included.