Chapter Three #3
Shit. Of course it was Lady Jersey and two of her friends. This must be her husband. “Clearly, you aren’t still in Oxfordshire.”
“No, we are most assuredly not.” The earl stared at him with unblinking eyes. “You were accosting this woman. I should demand pistols at dawn. My wife will as well.”
Though the subject matter was serious, he chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound.
“Even if it’s illegal, I’m a crack shot.
” With his head still pounding, James glared at the woman who had retrieved the umbrella then stepped beyond the branches of the tree.
This would prove a huge scandal once word got out since he and Miss March were seen in a rather raunchy compromising situation just as notables of society were out driving during a slight pause in the rain. ”
The man crossed his arms at his chest. “Something must be done, Your Grace. This is a wild scandal and will see you both ruined and buried by it.”
Well, shit.
Even now a crowd was forming. He thought he recognized one of the men as a fellow club member but couldn’t be sure because he was so incensed.
“Perhaps we can just forget this happened,” Miss March said in a soft voice as Lady Jersey walked over to her.
“Absolutely not.” The matron of society shook her head. “Blackhawke needs to be held accountable. This is egregious.”
The afternoon was going from bad to worse. James shook his head. “I think not.” He crossed his arms at his chest, rather awkwardly with his cane.
One of her eyebrows lifted. “It’s assault. We can summon a constable, Your Grace.”
Which would lead to even more gossip and perhaps fines. He might despise society, but he didn’t wish to be denounced from it. If he left society and the public eye, it needed it to be on his terms.
“Yes, Your Grace. Perhaps you should just flee England.” Miss March looked entirely too smug. Clearly, she thought this was his comeuppance.
Well, fuck that. She could have tit for tat. “I obviously cannot do that, Miss March.”
Lady Jersey frowned. “Why not?”
“Because, my dear Lady Jersey, Miss March is my fiancée, which is what we were celebrating just now when you interrupted us.” He made certain to meet Miss March’s gaze, daring her to contradict him.
“We have planned to be married within the month.” Then he bestowed Lady Jersey what he hoped was a charming grin.
“I apologize for what you might have witnessed. Passion got the best of us. Must be the wretched weather,” he said to the earl with a wry shrug.
“Well, I suppose in that case, I should be glad to turn a blind eye,” the earl said with a glance to his wife.
Lady Jersey nodded. “Since you are engaged, I will hold my tongue.”
That was doubtful. She was a first-rate gossip, a silver-tongued viper. No doubt the news of his faux engagement would be all over London in two hours. When he glanced at Miss March, her furious gaze left him quite satisfied.
She tapped his sleeve with her gloved hand. “I expect an invitation, Your Grace, to make certain you actually go through with it instead of having said it to bamboozle me.”
“Of course, Lady Jersey. Yours will be the first one delivered.” As he spoke, icy fear twisted down his spine.
Shit.
Once everyone went back into the closed carriage, James strode over to where Miss March stood. “You did this to me, remember.”
“You deserve whatever is coming your way.” Before he realized what was happening, she drew back a hand and then slapped him hard across his right cheek.
Pain went through his skin, danced across his nerves, but he caught her wrist in his hand when she would have done it again. “Well, we’re stuck together now. We should make the best of it.”
“I don’t care.” She yanked at his hold, but he didn’t release her. Though her eyes were wild and the pupils large, there was an unreadable emotion in her expression, and he wanted to know why. “I want revenge for how you ruined my life when you killed my fiancé.”
“Then I’ll force you to marry me, and I am not a good man.” He tugged her a bit closer to himself. “You want ruination, you’ll have it. We’ll go down together.”
“Oh.” A trace of fear shadowed her eyes.
Then she shrugged and her chin came up a notch.
Defiance was clear in her expression. “If this engagement inconveniences your life, all the better. But at least I’ll still have London and can go where I will.
And because of that, I will see you buried, Your Grace. ”
Ha. If that’s what she thought, she was oh so wrong.
“No.” Keeping her wrist in his hold, he set them both into forward motion. “You’ll go where I tell you, where I let you.”
She kicked him, this time in his bad knee. Pain streaked up that leg. “You have no right to order me about.”
“I do now.” Why the hell did the push and pull between them arouse him so much? “You started this. You’ll see it through.” Ignoring the pounding in his head, ignoring her protests, ignoring everything, James half-dragged half-escorted her through the park to where he’d left his closed carriage.
“Where are we going?” She clawed at his hand that held her wrist.
“Only God knows, but we’re not staying in London until the gossip dies down.” And the best way for that was to disappear for a bit.
Resorting to kidnapping was beneath him, but there was nothing for it. Now he knew how the other men at Club Damnation felt when they’d been forced into doing the same thing.
Shit.