Page 18 of Promised to the Worst Duke in England (Disreputable Dukes of Club Damnation #2)

When Imogen finished her champagne, she set the flute on the silver tray when a footman passed her location. She nodded at Alan’s aunt, for their short conversation had been enlightening and made her feel that her marriage to the duke hadn’t been a mistake.

“He looks so happy tonight, my dear,” Aunt Dorcas said as another country reel got underway on the dance floor. “All because of you. I never thought I’d see such a thing in my nephew again.”

Heat went through Imogen’s cheeks. “I don’t know about that, since I’m no one special.”

“Don’t doubt yourself. To him, you are… something. I’ll wager all I have on it.” The older lady winked. “Now, I see that same nephew has slipped out onto the terrace. I wonder if you are scheduled to go out there with him?”

She chuckled from the shrewd twinkle in the older lady’s eyes. “I am, in fact.” This wasn’t for an assignation that would result in scandal; they’d already had that earlier in the evening, and it had been another one of those couplings where she’d freely given him her soul, and he’d filled that empty space with his. When they communed without words, it was utter perfection, and she didn’t feel as broken or less than in his company.

Yet the downfall of not talking was that she didn’t know where they stood within the relationship. Was that why he wished to meet with her on the terrace? Had he found her lacking in some way? Realized he’d made a mistake in making her his duchess? That he would return to London without her in favor of spending the time with his mistress while she was dying?

I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that.

“Lady Averly?”

“Hmm?” Imogen wrenched herself from the torturous thoughts.

“Shouldn’t you go outside and meet your husband? Find out why he’s desperate to get you alone, even after your absence from earlier?”

Another round of heat went through her cheeks. “Yes, of course. Enjoy yourself while I’m gone.”

“Go, go.” Aunt Dorcas waved a hand. “Presently, I’m going to pester the Duke of Blackhawke. He’s quite a sour fellow and I want to know why, above and beyond his horrific looks.”

“Be careful you don’t poke a bear too much.” With a chuckle, Imogen skirted the dance floor then finally emerged from the ballroom and onto the terrace. Immediately, the relatively cooler air from the outside descended on her skin, and she welcomed the break from the heat inside. “Alan?” While her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she glanced about the terrace. For the moment, she was the only one there. “Alan? Are you hiding from me?” Then she frowned, for near the railing was a cravat. Moving swiftly over to it, she picked up the length of fabric. His scent clung to it, but there was also a dark, ominous stain that was obvious, even in the shadow-filled world.

Blood. And drops of it stained the flagstones of the terrace.

Dear heavens, has he been shot?

Her heartbeat accelerated even as it felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Alan?” When she moved over a few steps, the thin sole of her slipper crunched over shards of broken glass. His champagne flute. A poorly stifled scream slipped from her throat. “Alan!” What the devil happened out here?

“Lady Averly? Are you quite well?”

With her breathing coming in shallow pants, she whirled around to find the Duke of Udolpho coming out onto the terrace to join her. “No, I’m not.” Quickly, she explained. “Now Averly is missing, and I fear the worst.” In fact, if she thought hard on the subject, she knew what had occurred. “I think my cousin has shot the duke, and now they’re both missing.”

After her clandestine conversation with Philip the other day, and knowing he didn’t intend to let the matter drop, he must have sneaked back onto the property, using the crowds and chaos from the ball to cover his entry. When Alan went out on the terrace, it was no doubt the chance Philip had waited for, and he’d taken the shot.

“Dear God, what if the shot was fatal?”

“Let us not panic just yet.” Udolpho came toward her as she held up the cravat. “The fact Averly isn’t here just now is a good sign. He’s mobile, and he’s probably pissing mad.”

“For good reason.” Yet her spirits sank. When he discovered what she’d done before their nuptial ceremony, what she had asked of her cousin, Alan would condemn her. But she couldn’t think about that now. Her first priority was to find her husband and make certain he was safe. “I must go look for him.” She’d nearly gained the stone steps when Udolpho’s hand on her shoulder stayed her flight.

“You aren’t going alone, Your Grace.” His dark eyes glittered in the illumination from the ballroom. “I’ll accompany you. Eggleton won’t be best pleased if one of his friends comes to harm. The man is completely invested in each of us. Damn if I understand the reasons why.” Then he escorted her down the stairs.

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” If she had to, she would defend Alan against Philip, because in that moment everything became crystal clear. She was well on her way to falling in love with her husband. Would Averly be so far gone in his anger that he’d kill her cousin? Knowing what she did of the duke’s past, it was entirely possible

“It is, for Averly will kill me without notice if something happened to you while I could have prevented it.”

That was probably true. “I don’t even know where they would have gone.” If Philip wished to put a ball through Alan’s heart, where would he do it? “Drat. Let’s head toward the rear of the property near the orchards.” It would prove a bit of a hike, but there was no other choice. What horrors would she find upon arrival?

“Have faith, Lady Averly. We’ll do what we can and hope for the best.”

Oddly, the words brought a modicum of comfort, but her muscles were tight, and her chest hurt with each breath. He couldn’t die; he just couldn’t. I need him.

They reached the hedgerow in good time since they were both running, then sounds of flesh hitting flesh rang in her ears, easily alerting her to the men’s location.

“Alan!” From the weak illumination of the moon, she could just make out their profiles as they indulged in fisticuffs with each other. He landed her cousin a facer before looking her way. “Dear God, you’ve been shot.” Dark blood stained his lawn shirt beneath the tailcoat, more evident the closer she came.

“Yes, which is why I want to pummel the stuffing from Mr. Rhoades, and if he doesn’t comply with leaving the property, I will shoot him.”

“You have a pistol?” It was something she’d never thought to ask of him.

“I do, from the game warden.” The duke tugged the weapon from the waist of his evening breeches. “He’s got a lodge not far from here at the edge of the property.” His gaze went to Udolpho. “If you’ve touched her, I’ll also take your hand off once I’m done here.”

The other duke shook his head. “I know better, don’t I, than to dare flirt with a disreputable duke’s woman.”

Not for the first time did Imogen wonder about the club he belonged to. Unwilling to let the ridiculous fight continue, she swallowed her fear and then darted between the two very angry men. “Stop. Both of you. This is unseemly.”

And all my fault.

“He won’t give you up, Imogen, even when I told him you would be better off with me.”

Oh, dear. She focused on her cousin. “But that’s just it, Philip. I won’t.” When her throat went dry, she forced a swallow. “I asked you to help free me from a marriage I didn’t want, and at the time, I fully believed that, but then I met Averly, spent time with him, came to know him a bit more.”

“I don’t believe it. He’s got a hold over you, perhaps made you afraid due to your history. You and I are a good fit.”

“No.” She pressed her lips together, thinking quickly of what to say next. A quick glance to Alan, who held his right hand to the wound in his left shoulder, put steel in her spine. “I do love you, Philip, but as a best friend who was there for me when I needed someone the most. What we had between us was ill-advised; I think you know this.”

“That’s not true. We can be good together. What we had was sound.”

The duke bristled. “Imogen is mine. Period.”

She shook her head and ignored her husband for a moment. “It wasn’t. I see that now. I only did that to use you, to console myself and try to hide because I was young, and my mind wasn’t sane.” Though it was quite embarrassing to discuss this in front of a stranger, there was nothing for it. “I thought taking a lover would heal my soul’s wounds, but it didn’t. I’m sorry you were ever caught in the mess.”

“That is exactly why you need me!” Philip put a hand on her arm, tried to tug her away from the duke. “I’m the only one who understands you and what you went through, what you need now.” When she shook off his touch, he frowned. “Averly doesn’t love you. He hasn’t declared himself, has he?”

“No. But then, we were only married a week ago.” She slid her gaze to Alan. “After everything, that doesn’t matter.”

Philip huffed in apparent frustration. “Why not?”

Poor thing. His heart would break, but she couldn’t do anything about that either. Life was just… messy at times. “Because I love him.” Truly, there was nothing else to say.

Stunned silence brewed through them. Udolpho finished wrapping a cravat about Alan’s wound. He tied it off the best he could, but then Averly waved him off.

“What?” Alan drew her a few steps away from the other two men. “Is that a falsehood?” Though there was pain in his voice, there was also something else she couldn’t recognize.

“It is not.” She shook her head as emotion rose in her throat. “I’ll admit, I hated you before we were wed for not making good on the engagement sooner, for your arrogance in thinking I would be content to wait for you.”

“She didn’t, which is why she willingly chose me where she had no choice but to marry you,” Philip interrupted before Udolpho came over and gave him a shove.

Imogen ignored him to focus on Alan. “Then we did marry, and I hated the thought of you, I think.” Pain squeezed around her heart. “I wanted to defy you at every turn, but then, as time went on, we began to share the things we’ve been through, the things that still drag our souls downward. And since that night in the turret room, quite possibly the day before, really, I have been… happy even though there are growing pains in our relationship.” Tears welled in her eyes. “You understand me, don’t judge me for my horrible decisions.”

“As you don’t judge me for mine,” Alan said in soft voice that blended all too well with the nocturnal sounds of the night. He grabbed one of her hands in his good one. “We both came from violent backgrounds, lonely backgrounds that stole so much from us.”

“We did, but with you, I don’t feel so sullied, so unworthy.” She wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Don’t you think we both deserve peace and happiness now?”

He grunted. “With each other?”

“That is my thinking, yes.” In her hope to convince him, she took both of his hands, and when he groaned from the pain, she immediately released him. Another couple of tears seeped to her cheeks. “Listen to me, Alan. I love you. I love all the broken pieces of you, not with pity or concern or in the hopes I can fix you—only you can decide who you wish to be—but with understanding and compassion.” She sniffled. “My only regret is that we didn’t wed sooner. So much wasted time…” A sob rose in her throat.

Her cousin scoffed. “That’s ridiculous, Imogen. He’s brainwashed you.”

She huffed. “Do shut up, Philip. For the first time since I was sixteen, I feel as though I am in control of my destiny again.”

Because, at the heart, Averly was a gentleman, he gave her his handkerchief. “Sweeting, while your words give me hope, I’ll remind you that it’s only been a week, barely that.”

“And?” She dabbed the moisture from her cheeks. “Does love have a schedule? A timetable? Is there a law that says two people can only fall in love after so many days, months, years?”

“No, of course not, but—”

This whole meeting was scandalously stupid. “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same way, I’ll understand, but I will sit with you in the darkness because I still believe you are worthy of that companionship.” It was bold on her part, but she had to know. “And if nothing comes of our union, we can decide our next steps then.”

The silence that followed was fraught with tension. Philip took a step toward them, but the Duke of Udolpho latched onto his arm, holding him back.

Finally, Alan’s eyes glinted, and when she peered more closely, there was suspicious moisture there. “Dear God, Imogen, you manage to impress me with every fucking day.”

“Meaning?” A shiver moved down her spine, not only from his words but from the coolness of the night.

“The turning point for me was the day before we talked in the turret room, when I saw the decorations in the ballroom.” For a few seconds, he bowed his head and quietly cried, then he lifted his head, wiped the tears from his face, and held her gaze. “This week has pushed me to every limit I have, and it’s been a journey of discovery for me.” He winced. “However, because of you, I’ve had to take stock of my life.”

“The sooner you reach the point, Averly, the sooner we can get you home and patched up.” If he died from blood loss because he couldn’t put words to what he was feeling…

“Such a managing baggage, but then, a woman who knows her own mind is a fascinating creature indeed.” Though there was amusement in his tone, it flirted with pain. He blew out a breath. “I don’t care if we must live as outcasts from London in the event my reputation is too far damaged, at least I will have you, Imogen.” He briefly paused, and rolled his shoulders, no doubt to find some relief from the pain. “We will have a good life together, regardless. Hell, isn’t that what Ravenhurst is doing?”

She couldn’t help but frown. “Who is he?”

“A member of my club who recently married even though he also has a dark past.”

What did that have to do with their story? Then she shrugged. “Love is love, Alan. It doesn’t care, but it does make certain things more palatable, more comfortable. We both have questionable, scandalous, horrible pasts, and there is nothing we can do about them, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a future full of possibilities.”

“I know that now, because of you.”

She nodded. “And?” Really, was he incapable of saying the words?

“Ah, Imogen, you will make me say it, won’t you?”

“I would like to hear the words, yes.”

“I thought you might, and I also thought I’d conveyed my feelings about you earlier this night.” When he paused, heat sank into her cheeks, especially with the two men looking on. “I didn’t think such a thing would ever happen to me again, but I do love you. I fell for you because of your compassion, your willingness to forgive, the determination you have, the courage you show each time you stand up to me.”

A gasp escaped her. “You love me?”

“I do, at least I am perilously close to that state, and truth be told, I look forward to completing the fall. In you, I have found peace, and you make me think I’m not the disappointment I fear.”

“Oh, Alan!” Forgetting for the moment that he was wounded, she threw herself into his arms, and they did seem eager despite his injury. “I am so happy to hear that.” Afterward, she was never sure who moved first, but one moment they were talking and the next, they were kissing each other in an embrace that was full of passion even though they’d coupled not a few hours prior.

With a groan, Averly pulled away. “Might we return to the house, sweeting? I am growing far too lightheaded to continue this interlude.”

“Of course.” She looked at Philip. “I am sorry, but Alan is who I need in my life at this time, and he is my husband, come what may. Please understand that.”

“We could have been happy together, Imogen,” he said a soft but bitter voice.

“Perhaps, but I have found a different sort of happiness. I pray you will too.” She met Udolpho’s gaze. “Please remove him from the property.”

The other man gawked. “You don’t want to turn him over to a constable for trying to murder a duke?”

She glanced at her husband, who shrugged.

“The decision is yours.”

A sigh escaped. “No. He is the one person in my family I trust, and he doesn’t deserve prison for something I asked of him. Go and be well, Philip.”

When the two men retreated over the lawn, she slipped an arm about Alan’s waist to help support him on the long walk back to the manor.

“Imogen?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you ask your cousin to kill me?” There was no anger in his voice, just curiosity.

Would this make him recant his earlier declaration? “I did, shortly before our ceremony, but as I said, I didn’t know you then, didn’t understand you, hadn’t fallen for you yet.” She bit her bottom lip. “If this makes you want to send me away in disgust—”

“Do hush, duchess,” he said in a low voice riddled with amusement. “I take no offense, but perhaps I would have if you hadn’t tried to have me killed. After I, I am the worst duke in England, but at least now I’ll watch my step around you.”

“Perhaps we are well-matched after all.” She snorted, but another wash of tears sprang to her eyes. “You aren’t the worst duke any longer, and that makes my heart dance because now you no longer have need to hide behind that moniker.” And she was so proud of him for that.

“It will be interesting to discover who I can be without wanting to continually let my past obscure my future.”

“I’m looking forward to everything that will come our way.” Then she turned her head and pressed her lips to the side of his neck. “Thank you for finally marrying me. I hope we make the best use of our time together.”

Always, because they both had something to live for.