Chapter 17
When Jessica opened her eyes, she found herself in a soft bed in her room in Damien’s house. For a moment she thought she must be dreaming. Then she felt the tickle of a spring breeze on her cheek and she understood. Damien had succeeded. He’d rescued her and brought her safely home. Relief washed through her, followed immediately by apprehension. Was he angry with her for escaping him and forcing him to cross into France to come after her?
She was too tired to worry and felt strangely weak. She tried to move, but a sharp sting in her shoulder and tight bandages restricted her. Memories flashed through her head—the shooting, Damien and his men taking her to a small cottage, a wild ride to the ship. A rustle from the corner of the room drew her attention. She watched with trepidation as the Duchess of Wyndham approached.
“I am glad to see that you are awake, Jessica,” she said gently. “You had us all quite worried. You were very ill when Damien brought you home.”
“I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble, Your Grace,” Jessica murmured.
She was ashamed that this woman, whom her family had caused so much suffering, had taken her into her home and cared for her. Struggling, she sat up.
“Please, don’t move,” the Duchess said. “You will open your wound and make it bleed.”
“But—” Jessica began.
“Shh. Lie still,” the Duchess ordered as she helped her lie back down. “It is no inconvenience to have you here. I would not have forgiven my son if he had not brought you here to recover. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, a little,” Jessica admitted.
“Good. That is a good sign. I will have Aggie make up a tray for you. Now, stay there and rest. Donny will be back soon to sit with you.”
With a smile, she left the room. Jessica mused over the kindness of the Duchess. The woman seemed sincere in her concern, yet Jessica felt uneasy. She had been the victim of two other women who had appeared kind at first before revealing their true natures. She didn’t think Damien’s mother was like Margaret or Madame du Barré, but she was wary just the same.
Her musings took a different route as she wondered where Damien might be. He was probably quite happy to relinquish his care of her. She was surprised she wasn’t in a prison cell, although she supposed not even Damien would have locked up a wounded person.
Through the open window, she heard a horse and rider arrive. Damien’s voice drifted up to her as he spoke to one of the grooms. He sounded energetic and well rested. She hoped he would be lenient with her. She was still under arrest after all. Perhaps he would be kind enough to bring Jason to see her. She missed her brother terribly. She had no idea what would become of her now. With no means of gambling to earn the monthly payment for Margaret, she was doomed. Bleakly, she took a deep breath and winced at the ache in her shoulder. She would have to figure something out, otherwise Margaret would never allow her to see her brother again.
The door opened, and Donny entered with a tray. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she tried to hide a smile. “I see ye finally decided to wake up,” she grumbled. “‘Tis bad enough ye try t’escape, but then t’get yerself shot on top of it…” Her voice trailed off in an unspoken accusation as she shook her head. She helped Jessica prop herself up, then placed the tray across her lap. “Had us all worried to death, ye did. An’ His Grace havin’ t’go t’France after ye.”
“He doesn’t seem any worse for the adventure,” Jessica observed wryly as Donny lifted a spoon to her lips. She swallowed the delicious meat broth, already feeling stronger. “I just heard him arrive home, and he sounded very fit, as if he’d had a wonderful night’s sleep.
“Aye, and that he has.” Donny nodded, scooping up another spoonful of soup for Jessica. “The first in six nights. Yer fever broke last night, and he finally left yer side and went t’his bed t’sleep. Wouldn’t leave ye no matter how much Her Grace asked.”
Astonished, Jessica gaped at Donny. She didn’t know which shocked her more, that she’d been unconscious for six days or that Damien had remained with her the whole time she’d been ill.
She was not about to reveal where her thoughts traveled. Instead, she asked, “Did you say he hadn’t slept in six days?”
“Aye, brought ye here six days ago, he did, not lookin’ much better than ye did.”
Jessica closed her eyes, her hand moving to her abdomen.
“The babe is all right,” Donny whispered, laying her hand on Jessica’s cheek. “The doctor examined ye.”
Jessica opened teary eyes and nodded her thanks.
“Eat yer broth.” Donny said gruffly as she spooned up another mouthful for Jessica.
Jessica grinned at Donny’s tone. The woman’s rough bluster was merely a ruse, hiding a heart of gold. She finished most of the thick broth that Donny had brought, and then with Donny’s assistance, she settled back into the pillows and fell into a deep, healing sleep.
For the next three days, Jessica slowly regained her strength. Donny remained with her most of the time, and the Duchess visited her often. But Damien was conspicuously absent. Several times Jessica heard him arriving or leaving. She heard his footsteps in the hall, but he made no effort to visit her.
He would probably be very relieved when she was strong enough to leave. Although she had no idea where she would be taken, she was quite certain that Damien wanted her gone. After all, he’d made his feelings for her quite apparent before she’d been captured by Madame.
On the fourth day of her convalescence, Donny and a new maid, Frannie, helped her out of bed to bathe and dress. Donny had quietly told her that Lucy had been let go for being a part of Madame’s conspiracy. Jessica felt badly for Lucy, for she had liked her.
She felt remarkably better after her bath and with Donny’s help, ventured downstairs for a stroll. She couldn’t help but notice that her guards had completely disappeared, and she assumed that Damien counted on her weakened condition to keep her close to the house.
During the next few days, she never encountered the master of the house. He was either out, or sequestered in his study. Two nights later, quite late, she thought she heard him stop outside her door, but she could not be sure.
Throughout her recovery, Jessica had done a lot of thinking and had come to a decision regarding her future. Of course, her future depended on what Damien and the courts decided to do with her, but if she were found innocent, she had a plan. She contemplated telling Damien about the baby, but then rejected that notion. She would not take his pity. She would approach another gaming hell and use her notoriety as her way in. The cost would be high. She was not the innocent fool she’d once been. Her reputation was ruined and without a protector like Madame, she would have to figure out a way to keep the men at bay while earning Margaret’s payment. Perhaps she could hire a private guard. Maybe one of Damien’s men would consider it. She would have to raise some funds first. But that required a trip to a gaming hell. The thoughts circled in a dizzying puzzle.
A week after she had risen from her sick bed, as she stepped from her bath, a knock came at her door. It swung open before Donny could answer it. Donny jumped to stand in front of Jessica to hide her nakedness, while Jessica clutched a towel to cover herself.
Damien, looking relaxed and rather pleased with himself, stood in the open doorway.
“Yer Grace!” Donny gasped in shock. “M’lady is bathing.”
Totally unruffled, Damien’s gaze swept past Donny to rest with obvious pleasure on Jessica. He smiled lazily. “I would not deem it improper to pay my respects to my fiancée.”
Jessica’s mouth dropped open. Moments passed before she was able to squeak, “Fiancée?”
“Yes, my love,” Damien said, appearing to enjoy the effect of his words. “Fiancée: that term which is applied to one betrothed to be married.”
“Married?” Jessica squeaked again.
“Married,” Damien echoed with a nod. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. “I believe it’s customary for a couple to marry who are to be parents. Don’t you agree?” When Jessica continued to gape at him, he went on, “Is it not your wish to have a legitimate father for the babe?”
“Babe?” Jessica gulped. How did he know?
“Yes, babe.” Damien lifted an eyebrow. “You have thirty minutes to make yourself presentable, then I wish to see you in my study.”
Jessica’s temper flared. How dare he come into her room and announce that they would be getting married! He could not even summon the courtesy to propose properly. She grabbed a bar of soap and flung it at him. He ducked and the soap hit the door as it closed behind him. She could hear him chuckling as he strode off down the hall.
Jessica turned on Donny. “You told him. You broke your promise.”
Donny shook her head. “Nay, child. I not be the one to tell His Grace. Ye be the guilty one.”
“Me?” Jessica blinked.
“Aye. When ye be sick, ye said much ye had kept in yer heart.”
Jessica groaned and sank to the stool near the tub. “But how did he find out? Didn’t you tend to me?”
“He was with ye from the time he brought ye through the door until yer fever broke. Don’t ye remember my tellin’ ye that last week? He refused to leave your side until finally Her Grace ordered him to get some sleep while she sat with ye, but then he came back an hour later. Her Grace threw up her hands at his stubbornness.”
Jessica’s heart lifted at the thought that perhaps he did care for her if he had been so reluctant to leave her during her illness. Her mood immediately plunged back to the depths with her next thought. He probably only wanted to be sure his heir didn’t die with its mother. She was good for nothing more than to give him a child. If that was what he wanted, so be it. But just because they were to be married, didn’t mean she would allow him back into her bed, despite her desire for him. She would teach the arrogant duke a few things about manners and women.
Although Jessica had been ordered to appear before Damien in thirty minutes, she took her time getting dressed. Besides wanting to defy him, she decided that looking her best gave her an edge in this game. An hour-and-a-half later, she stood before the door to his study. As she smoothed the front of her skirt, she smiled as she imagined Damien’s reaction to her high-necked, modest frock of black-striped, gray taffeta, so different from those she wore as the Lady Fortuna. Her dress was a suit of armor against his seductive charm. Steeling herself for whatever he had planned, she knocked on the door.
Damien’s voice bade her enter. When she walked into the room, she discovered that he was not alone. A rotund little man with twinkling eyes stood as she entered. Damien’s gaze slid over her, but his expression revealed nothing. Despite her modest dress, she felt herself grow warm.
“Ah, my fiancée,” Damien drawled, subtly revealing his annoyance at her tardiness. He indicated his guest. “Jessica, this is John Soames, the family barrister.”
The little man bowed gracefully over her hand. “A pleasure, my lady.”
Turning to Damien after seating herself, she smiled innocently. “I’m sorry I took so long, Your Grace. I only wished to look my best.”
Damien’s brows drew together as if he could not decide between being irritated or disarmed. Jessica kept her sweet smile on her face, but satisfaction at seeing Damien unsure of her bubbled inside. His glance slid away, then came back to land on her.
He cleared his throat. “Jessica,” he said, “Soames has drawn up a statement concerning your involvement with Madame du Barré. I took the liberty of giving him information from what you had told me before. Since you have been ill, we will do our best to have you excused from appearing at Madame’s trial. This statement will be submitted in your absence. However, it is necessary that Soames asks you a few questions. You will need to read over the final document to be sure it is accurate. Then you must sign it before witnesses.”
“Madame is going to trial?” Jessica asked. “She is here in England?”
“Yes.” Damien paused. “She found it expedient to return with us.”
Jessica could not imagine how Damien had managed to get Madame to return. From what she remembered, they had been trying to flee from her, not the other way around.
Mr. Soames gave a discreet cough. “I must inform you, m’lady, that your refusing to give a signed statement to the court could be construed as collaboration with the enemy. There would be a lengthy trial which you would have to go through, and, I am afraid, your wedding plans would have to be postponed, perhaps indefinitely.”
Jessica smiled at the man. “Since I was only informed an hour ago of His Grace’s intentions, I’m afraid we have no wedding plans yet. But I have no wish to spend time in a prison cell. I will answer your questions and sign your statement, sir.”
Mr. Soames beamed his approval. “Wonderful! I will return later this afternoon with my clerks to record your answers, if that is agreeable.” He turned a questioning look upon the Duke. At Damien’s nod, he said, “We will take your statement then.” He stood and offered his hand to Damien. “My congratulations again on your forthcoming marriage, my boy. Your father would have been pleased with your choice. Your lady is most charming, most charming, indeed.” He bent over Jessica’s hand once more, then was gone from the room with surprising alacrity for one so portly.
Awkward silence fell into the room after the barrister’s departure. Jessica kept her eyes lowered on her clasped hands in her lap. The return of the barrister in the afternoon gave her a perfect excuse for leaving.
“If you no longer need me, I’ll return to my room,” she said without raising her gaze. “I would like to put my thoughts in order.”
What she needed was to be away from him. She was still angry about his arrogant proposal and his assumption that she would agree, but her feelings were mixed with gratitude for bringing her home and watching over her, along with sheltering her from the ordeal of a trial and the scandal of bearing an illegitimate child. And God help her, excitement rippled through her at the prospect of being married to him. Confusion was raging in her brain, and she needed to think.
“I would like you to stay for a moment, Jessica,” Damien answered. He pulled a small object out of his pocket, leaned forward and placed it in her lap. It was a tiny velvet box. She looked up at him curiously.
“Open it,” he instructed her gently.
She did and gasped. Nestled amidst the folds of black velvet was an exquisite sapphire and diamond ring.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “I have never seen anything so lovely.”
“It’s yours,” he said brusquely as he turned to gaze out the window.
“I cannot accept such a gift.” She closed the box and held it out to him.
“It’s the custom in our family for the Duke’s fiancée to receive this ring upon their betrothal,” Damien said. He turned back to face her. “I see no reason why you should not accept it.”
Jessica stood and placed the box in his hand. His tone and attitude had brought her quickly to a decision. Raising her chin proudly, she said, “I will give you the best reason for not accepting it. I am not going to marry you, Your Grace.”
Damien blinked, then he stood, towering over her. His eyes became hard, and a muscle twitched in his cheek. “You are a fool, m’lady. I offer security for you and the child for the rest of your life. How can you refuse?”
“Very simply, Your Grace. I merely say no.”
He was very quiet for a moment before he spoke. His tone was dangerously soft. “You cannot say no. I will not have it.”
Incredulous, Jessica’s brows went up. “You will not have it? It takes two consenting adults to have a wedding, Your Grace.”
“I will not have my child born without a name!” he thundered.
“You forget the child is also mine!”
“You are a fool!”
“You are an arrogant bully!”
Blue eyes met green and clashed. Only several weeks before, they had meshed as one in a night of passion. Now, the distance between them was greater than that between earth and sun.
Damien’s breath hissed between his teeth. “How do you propose to live?” he asked. “What will you use to live on?”
“I will live the same way I did before you disrupted my life,” Jessica said haughtily.
His eyes narrowed. “Madame’s is no longer in existence. Do you have entrance to any other gaming establishment?”
Jessica shrugged and turned away. “I met many gentlemen at Madame’s. I’m sure one of them could gain me entrance to another establishment.”
“For what price?” he demanded ruthlessly. “Didn’t you declare that you would be no man’s mistress?”
Jessica flinched as her words were thrown back at her. “I’m sure I can find an honorable gentleman who would not require that I go to bed with him merely for the small favor of an introduction,” she said with more conviction than she felt.
Damien snorted his disbelief. “You are more a fool than I thought.”
“Not so much a fool, Your Grace, as to marry an arrogant, tyrannical boor,” she snapped back.
Damien took a step toward her and she braced herself as if for a blow. His words hammered themselves into her brain. “You may defy me, now, my lady, but marry me you will. Before the week is out, you will have this ring on your finger.” He held up the velvet box, then set it on a corner of his desk as if throwing down the gauntlet of a challenge.
Jessica huffed her aggravation and impatience, then turned on her heel and stalked out. When she reached the security of her room, she gave full vent to her anger and frustration. She paced from wall to wall as her conflicting emotions warred within her.
She had gained her heart’s desire only because of Damien’s sense of duty. She would not be trapped into a marriage with a man who did not love her. He didn’t even have the courtesy to ask her to marry him, but rather informed her she had no choice. He could not even bring himself to be polite to her. He must despise her that much.
Of course he would. Her family had hurt him terribly. He had lost his brother because of Margaret’s immorality and her father’s foolishness. Damien felt honor-bound to wed her because of the child they had conceived. This was not the marriage she had envisioned.
She had thought when she wed, her husband-to-be would love her, and she would love him. She halted in mid-step.
But she did love Damien.
She regretted her outburst. But he’d made her so angry. Her hand went to her still flat abdomen. Damien might not love her, but he wanted his child to have a name, and for that she was grateful. Sighing, she sat on a chair beside the window and gazed out at the sunlit day. She thought back to that night when she’d cheated at cards and ended up in his bed. So much had happened since then. She’d been wrong not to confide in him about her innocence. But her pride and naïveté had gotten in the way. Now they were locked in this battle, neither one willing to give ground. How could she make this right??
She stood once more and paced her room until exhaustion overtook her and she lay down on the bed. Wiping her tear-streaked face she closed her eyes. Somehow, she would make him see that she was not the cause of his pain. And somehow, she would make him love her.
Damien watched Jessica leave in silence. His hands clenched tightly at his sides. He wanted to throw something, anything. That woman would drive him mad. Perhaps she had already. What was he doing forcing her into marriage? Her family had brought terrible pain to the Wyndham family. She was obstinate, outspoken, proud. She was soft, vulnerable, desirable. He threw himself into a chair, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
He had really messed up everything. What had happened to his manners and that charm that got him any woman he wanted? God’s teeth, he had been a boor! If she weren’t quite so lovely, or quite so naïve, maybe he wouldn’t feel so honor bound to wed her. But he knew that was not true. His honor would dictate that he do the right thing no matter what Jessica was like. It was an added bonus that he found her so desirable, which was why he found himself in this position in the first place.
He had wanted to be gentle with her. Her illness and her pregnancy made him want to protect her. Yet, her relation to Braeleigh and Margaret weighed heavily on him. While he felt himself aroused by the sight of her and the memory of her passion, he couldn’t get past the pain her family had caused. He was in a hell of a mess.
His glance fell on the little velvet box. He had to talk to someone. Edward was still in London. He was staying at his family’s town house before returning to his duties. Rising swiftly, Damien scooped up the little box and deposited it in his pocket as he strode out the door to call on his friend.