Yuletide with a Devilish Duke (Disreputable Dukes of Club Damnation #4)

Prologue

Denham House

St. James Place

Mayfair, England

Of course, that had been years ago, but scandals of that nature always had the innate ability to come home to roost at the most inopportune times.

And the sticking point here was the fact that said mistress was expected to die from a disease of the lungs any day now, leaving the five-year-old child in his care.

Obviously, emotions from both him and his wife had run high ever since the secret had accidentally come to light.

Yes, he’d planned on telling her the truth, but circumstances had sent the news prematurely into the air, which had precipitated Abigail’s subsequent rage and aggravation a few months prior.

She had temporarily moved out of the townhouse they’d occupied since the day they’d married over twenty years before.

That had broken his heart even above and beyond the cracks sustained when he’d spied the look of utter betrayal on her face when she’d discovered his infidelity.

Yet somehow, perhaps because it was the Christmastide season, within the past few days, his duchess had come back to their home.

In fact, she’d only just arrived earlier that afternoon.

Why, he didn’t know, but he would do his level best to discover the answer…

and to keep her here. Working against him was the undeniable tension that still roiled between them, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

It was odd, being on the defensive with his wife.

Aside from the first few years of their arranged marriage where they hadn’t rubbed on all that well, their union had been simply lovely and quite affectionate, even passionately hot most of the time, so this separation due to his mistake cut like a sharp knife to the heart.

And that pain refused to leave. For all his faults, she was the love of his life, and he had betrayed her with the mistress and especially the child, for he and Abigail had never been able to conceive children of their own. With this boy’s existence, it was clear she’d been the reason why.

And that knowledge had broken her a bit. In turn, that made his heart ache all the more, but he would try his best to win her back by Christmastide; their love didn’t deserve to die merely because of this indiscretion.

Hopefully.

Those thoughts had haunted him since September when she’d taken her leave of him, and in those three months, he truly felt as if he’d been through hell, for nothing made sense without her in his life.

Yes, he’d had his friends at Club Damnation to talk with, and they’d provided solace or a listening ear when he’d wished to talk about his woes, but beyond that, they couldn’t help him, of course.

This was a mess of his making, and it was his responsibility to repair it.

Outside of that, knowing that a handful of the members of the club were happily ensconced in their own new romances soured him a bit to the joy found in life as well as this time of year.

When he stepped into the morning room where his wife currently enjoyed tea, he was wildly uncertain of his reception. “Good afternoon, Abigail.” Why the devil did his voice sound as if he hadn’t used it in an age?

God, but she was a vision, his very own angel! Her blonde hair, liberally streaked with silver, had been caught back in a loose chignon, and she’d worn one of the navy-hued gowns he particularly liked. Had it been on purpose or merely a coincidence?

Did it matter?

“Good afternoon, Wallace.”

Was that a hint of frost in her voice? He couldn’t be certain. “Ah, do you mind if I joined you? Perhaps share a cup of tea with you?”

Her shrug only lifted one shoulder. “It’s your house.”

With a huff, he tamped down on the urge to offer a biting response. Instead, he dropped into a delicate chair with gilded legs near her location on a matching low sofa. “Yet you came back to our home.”

When she raised her gaze to his, he was caught off guard by the anger and the disappointment warring for dominance in those blue depths.

“Only because I favor this property over all your others.” She dabbed at a spot of jam lingering at the corner of her lips from eating a jam tart.

“If you wish to live apart, you can go. The Christmastide season is nearly upon us, and I adore London during that time. I have many commitments and invitations I’d like to keep. ”

“Ah, so your return had nothing to do with wishing to reconcile.” It wasn’t a question.

“It does not. I will occupy the duchess suite, and you can stay in yours. We should easily be able to stay out of each other’s way, I think.”

It was all so stark, so clinical, so… alarming. Hot panic rose in his chest as he frowned. “Please talk to me, Abigail. Would you truly toss away over twenty years of a happy marriage over one aberration that happened years ago?”

Her kissable lips formed a tight line as she put her teacup into its saucer then rested them both on the low table in front of her. “You did, and apparently that didn’t bother you.”

Fair point. Though it hurt more than he thought it would. “I told you it wasn’t an affair. Just one night that meant nothing in the grand scheme. I was away on a mission, I couldn’t let you know where I was, I’d drunk more than intended, and in a weak moment… it happened.”

A sound of aggravation escaped her. “It certainly means something to me.” When she rested her gaze on him, tears welled to magnify the blue. “It meant you found fault in what we had together, in me. It meant that you didn’t value our nuptial vows enough to keep your prick in your breeches.”

That was the farthest from the truth. “I was on a mission—”

“It doesn’t matter and you know it.” Yes, there was decide frost in her voice, and if he was careful, he’d be frozen to the furniture by it.

Why was he trying to argue? What he needed now was damage control.

He should just state the truth, show remorse, and hope for the best. This could all be fixed, but he needed time, so he blew out a breath.

“You are correct. I was a nodcock. I’d married you and should have stayed faithful.

Nothing matters beyond that.” He pressed his lips together as he considered his next words.

“In the event you wondered, I’m ashamed of what I did, and yes, I’m heartsick of what that knowledge is doing to you now, but you must know how much I still care for you, how I’ve always cared for you. ”

For long moments she stared at him, with emotions warring in her expression and lines of exhaustion framing her eyes and mouth. She seemed as haggard and worried as he was, though neither of them would admit it. “That was never the doubt.”

Surprise moved through his chest. “Then what is?”

She huffed. “The fact you kept the knowledge of this child from me.”

Well, that wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. “To be fair, I only became aware of his existence this past summer.”

“And yet that was five months ago.”

Another truth. Wallace nodded. “I was embarrassed and stunned. I didn’t wish to upset you or enrage you. And…”

“And?” One of her blonde eyebrows rose.

A heavy sigh left his throat. “I don’t want to lose you.” When everything else fell away, that was his greatest fear. So, he said it again. “I don’t want to lose you, Abigail. I am nothing without you.”

“Yet there is this child you fathered with another woman.” A tear fell to her cheek.

“A child you couldn’t have with me, because I am incapable of that basic function a woman should have.

” Tears filled her voice, and the sound of her distress tightened his chest. “A child you wish for us raise as our own as if I’m supposed to forget how his existence came about. ”

All fair points, and he couldn’t imagine the pain or doubt she was battling with. “He will be an orphan if we don’t take him in, and isn’t a child worthy of being raised in a good and decent home over being thrust to fate?”

For the space of a few heartbeats, her chin trembled. “Yes, of course, but everyone will know what you did, will say it’s because I failed in my duties.”

“No one will know except my solicitor. We shall invent a sister or a cousin who had no other option than to send the child to us to raise.”

“Oh.” Abigail frowned as she fixed her gaze on the tea tray. “You will forever resent me because I couldn’t give you a true heir, one who can inherit your title.”

“Never. Ah, sweeting, never think that, for it’s simply not true.

” Feeling hopeful for the first time in weeks, Wallace threw himself to his knees by her legs.

He took her hand. “Please know that what I feel for you will never change. And please also know that this child is part of me. I can’t in good conscience let him be raised by someone else now that I know of his existence. ”

Her stifled cry seemed to echo in the space. “How can I accept a child into this house knowing it was from your mistress?”

“I don’t know, I can only imagine how you’re feeling.” It made him feel like horse shit. “Please consider it. Don’t hold your thoughts against an innocent child.”

The delicate tendons in her throat worked with a hard swallow. When she attempted to pull her hand from his, he held on tight. “You have a good heart, but mine broke when I found out about him, about your betrayal.”

Then she would truly hate him when she discovered that he’d visited that same mistress many times in the first few years of their marriage when things were messy and they’d both fought against the arranged union. That was probably something he should keep to himself for the time being.

“I know. I know, and I will work for the rest of my life to win back your trust… your love.” It might prove the most honest thing he’d ever said to anyone. When she remained silent, he sighed. “Please say that you will stay, that you will let me try to resurrect our romance, strengthen it.”

“That will be a tall order. I’m quite livid with you.”

Wallace nodded. “I understand. Quite frankly, I didn’t expect anything else.”

Finally, she freed her hand from his. “I won’t share a suite with you, and you will definitely not warm my bed.”

His chest ached with the announcement. “I understand that too.” But if it moved him one step closer to a reconciliation with her, so be it.

For long moments, she peered down at him with trembling lips that set his world to crumbling.

God, he would do anything for this woman, and yet she was on the verge of leaving him to his fate.

Finally, she nodded. “Tell the servants we’ll need a bedroom fitted for the child, that he’s coming from one of your cousins who is quite ill.

We will also need to interview for a governess and a nursery maid as well as a few tutors to start with his education in January. ”

The relief that poured over him threatened to drown him. “I will.”

Fleetingly, she rested a palm against his cheek, and that simple touch nearly broke him. “I’m not best pleased with you Wallace but for the child’s future, I will bend. But I don’t think I can let him call me mama. I just can’t.”

He nodded, nearly cast up his accounts from the change in fortune. It was one step closer to winning her back. “I know, sweeting.”

Abigail shook her head. “You have lost the right to call me by an endearment. Lady Eggleson or Abigail will suffice when you address me until otherwise instructed.”

It was still winter in the house. He nodded. “I deserve that.” When she offered nothing else, even refused to look at him, he struggled to his feet. “Thank you, Abigail. I hope I can show you that I truly am still worthy of you.” Then he left the room.

It would be a long road indeed, but he would win her back.

Somehow.