Chapter 14
It was a rather odd feeling, being married. Jeremy supposed it felt odd because he had fought against it for so long and when the time came to make use of those blasted vows, he had to fight equally hard to get it done. He glanced over at his tight-lipped new wife and couldn’t help a lazy grin from spreading across his lips. For the entire journey to Gretna Green, then to London, she spoke only to say her vows. Snarled them, actually. The poor anvil priest kept wiping the sweat from his brow throughout the ceremony. Then Evie told the rather large blacksmith not to call her Lady Fielding, which nearly made the man swoon. And that was all she said as they rattled back down the bumpy, dusty roads.
Jeremy had managed to hire outriders to watch and guard the carriage from Montague’s men or any other nefarious person wishing to set upon them. He meant what he said about keeping Evie safe, although he would not examine too carefully why the thought of losing her brought such anguish.
Jeremy glanced out the carriage window and saw the familiar row of town houses sliding by. His only regret was he hadn’t given her a proper wedding. Because he couldn’t risk Evie’s life by waiting three weeks for banns, nor waste time locating a blasted bishop or archbishop to procure a special license, he had no other recourse but to marry her in Scotland.
His hand moved over the document in his pocket as he considered how Evie would react when she learned they were good and truly wed. The paper crinkled beneath his fingertips. No doubt, she would be furious. But there wasn’t anything she could do. She certainly couldn’t obtain an annulment. He grinned at his reflection, the sparkle of the blue diamond in the center of his cravat catching his attention. She would have to prove a certain part of his anatomy didn’t rise to the occasion, which he could easily disprove. His gaze slid over to her stony reflection. Hell, he could disprove it now.
Leaning back against the seat, he closed his eyes. In all honesty, he was damn glad for the charade to be over. The constant teasing, flirting, and plying the charm became exhausting at times. Something did concern him, though. He cracked open his eyes and, from between his lashes, studied Evie’s pale oval face and drawn brows. She did not wish to give up her seat at the Guardian table. Which led to the next thing that bothered him. Elder’s reaction. Guardians did not marry.
With a slow, deep breath, he noticed they were very near their destination. Remembering the combs in his pocket, he took them out and held them up to Evie. He cleared his throat. “I have been meaning to return these to you. They were falling out of your hair the night we were escaping Montague.”
Turning from the window, Evie’s eyes widened. She reached out and he noticed the tremble in her hand as she took them. “These were my mother’s,” she said, running a finger over the gold teeth. “I thought I had lost them.” Then she glanced up, her eyes softening in gratitude. “Thank you.”
Typically, Jeremy would have made some wolfish reply, followed up with some flirting and teasing. But Evie was nowhere near typical and didn’t deserve the typical response. Instead, he gave her the answer in his heart. “I was happy to keep them from getting lost. Especially now that I know how important they are to you.”
Her eyes swept back down to the combs and she gave a smile. But when the carriage slowed and began the turn into the drive, Evie stiffened and hastily placed the combs into her drawstring purse.
Jeremy knew she was nervous about how people would react to learning they had married. He asked Priscilla to send notes out after he and Evie left, which meant the whole country probably knew by now. And as the wheels shuddered to a stop and he saw the front door burst open, he was certain the notes had reached everyone. Lord Ashton marched forward, looking to do murder, followed by a stiff-lipped Belle, who struggled to keep up with her nephew.
The carriage door opened and a footman assisted Evie to the ground as Ash came to a halt. “Is this true?” he demanded of his sister, holding a crumpled note in his hand.
Jeremy hurried out of the carriage and pulled Evie behind him. He faced the younger man, realizing Lord Ashton was no longer the tall, thin boy he’d faced after breaking the engagement six years ago. His new brother-in-law had gained at least two stone in muscle and three inches in height.
Ash’s dark eyes hardened and his hands fisted at his sides. Jeremy knew what the man was about to do, but couldn’t move away. Evie might get struck on accident. So, he stood there to take the blow.
It didn’t come. Instead, Evie dashed around him and pulled on her brother’s right arm. “Ash, stop it. This is silly.”
Ash shook his head. “After everything he’s done to you, Evie, you aren’t going to let me hurt him? Just a little?”
For the first time in days, Evie produced a wide, genuine smile. It lit up her face, transforming her from lovely to gorgeous. When she smiled, her outside caught up to the beauty within her. Jeremy had a difficult time looking away.
“Now, Ash, there really is no need.” She patted his arm. “As his wife, I can make him miserable any time I wish.”
Jeremy narrowed his eyes. What, exactly, did that mean? Before he could ask, his wife was leading her brother into the mansion.
As he started to follow, Belle stepped to his side and spoke softly. “What are you doing?”
“Getting clothes for my wife before taking her home.” He stopped to remove his snuffbox and opened the gold and sapphire lid.
She turned to him with raised brows. “In the coded message she sent to me, Evie told me the marriage isn’t real.” She glanced around to make sure no one listened. “Ghost told me about the men in robes wearing pentagrams and speaking of their virgin sacrifice being thwarted.” She placed her hand on his arm. “So, this is just for show, for Montague’s benefit?” Her fingers dug into his coat. “Let me warn you, Rogue. When you cast Evie off again, even though she knows it’s coming this time, it will destroy her. Be prepared to have that on your conscious.” She pulled her hand away. “If you even have one.”
He snapped his snuffbox closed and placed it back into his pocket, not at all liking that Evie had sent Belle a coded message. Nor did he like being warned in such a manner. He had no intentions of casting Evie aside and was about to say so when Belle added, “You should let me take her to France. I can protect her there.”
“No.” He slashed a hand through the air. “Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to hurry things along here so I can go check on my cousin.”
He took a step toward the door but halted when she said, “Elder is most angry.” Her voice went low. “He said it is not safe to come to him, but he will come to you. Soon.”
Jeremy nodded and entered the house. He knew the news of his marriage to Evie would mean he would have to stay away from Guardian meetings for a while. No doubt, Montague was intelligent enough to guess who helped rescue Evie, which just cast an enormous amount of suspicion on him. Especially now that everyone knew he hadn’t been the one attacked and was bedridden.
The butler met him in the foyer with a bow. “Pardon, my lord. Lord Ashton wishes a word in his study. If you will come with me?”
With a nod, Jeremy followed the man into an oak paneled room that smelled of beeswax and leather. The butler bowed and closed the door as Lord Ashton rose from his chair behind the carved desk. He held out his hand to one of the black leather chairs. “Take a seat, Fielding.” He turned to the liquor cart at his right. “Whiskey?”
Jeremy inclined his head and took his seat, wondering why the pleasantries. Didn’t the man just wish to remove his head? He accepted the drink and took a sip, eyeing the large fellow before him over the crystal rim. Something bothered Ashton. The man took two gulps of his drink, loosed his cravat, took another gulp, then sat in his chair before finally looking up.
Raising a brow, Jeremy asked, “Exactly, why am I here?”
With a defeated sigh, Ashton opened the top left draw of his desk, rifled through several papers, and retrieved one. The man drained his glass, then slid the document across the polished wood.
Jeremy leaned forward, glanced at it, and settled back in his seat. It was the betrothal contract drawn up years ago by the Earl of Ashton and Marquess of Fielding. He knew every word.
Ashton cleared his throat. He started to say something, but stood and poured himself another drink before returning to his seat. “It says here,” his finger followed a line written in the middle of the document, “upon your marriage to my sister, I am to pay you this exorbitant dowry.”
Ah, so there it was. And, no doubt, the reason the man was so angry when they arrived. Jeremy thought for once in the man’s life, Ashton was acting out of love and protection for his sister. Obviously not. He gnashed his teeth as anger blazed a white-hot trail through his middle. Hadn’t anyone ever been there for Evie?
Well, that had just changed.
Setting aside his nearly full drink, Jeremy rose. “Do you have a pen and ink?” he asked calmly, even though his insides were boiling with anger.
Ash gave him a curious glance, but opened a drawer and supplied the items. Jeremy dipped the pen into the ink, spun the document around, and marked through the part where he would receive the hefty ten-thousand-pound dowry. He hardly needed the money, anyway. Then he scratched his signature out to the side and set the pen down. “Is there anything else you are concerned about?” he asked.
Ash, who had sat back in his chair once he realized he wouldn’t have to come up with so much blunt, suddenly straightened. His eyes slid away as he began. “Well, now that you mention it…” His fingers drummed the polished wood before him.
Jeremy checked the ticking ormolu on the mantle. Nearly four o’clock. He would usually enjoy taking his time to make the man squirm, but today, he was in a rush. Shaking his head, he asked, “How much do you need?”
Ash went still, then glanced up, relieved. “I’ve had to pour a fortune in renovating the old estate.” He paused to scowl. “Just adding the water closet alone makes me cringe.”
Removing the small booklet encased in soft brown leather from his pocket, Jeremy opened the cover and reached down for the pen. “Do you have a figure in mind,” he waved the pen in the air a couple of times, “or should I just guess at what you might need?”
“Five thousand pounds,” Ash blurted out.
Jeremy raised a brow. That told him a lot about his new brother-in-law. He scribbled out the bank note, knowing the man had been spending much of the past year gambling. Years ago, he had heard whispers of Ash striking some deal with a wealthy ship merchant just before the man passed away. To Jeremy’s knowledge, that company was the only one Ash owned still making a profit.
Well, he would just see how acute his suspicions were. Placing the note on the desk, Jeremy kept his fingers on the paper and said, “Double or nothing for the high card.”
Ash jerked in surprise, his brows shooting up. Then the corner of his mouth tipped up and his eyes glimmered with excitement. “You’d pay another five thousand pounds if I win?”
Yes, the man definitely had the fever. Jeremy recognized it well since his own mother was afflicted. He gave a sharp nod. “Of course.”
Ash pulled open the top draw and removed the deck of cards, then set it beside the bank note. “Care to shuffle?”
Jeremy took the cards and scrambled them about a bit, then set the deck back down. After rubbing his hands together, Ash turned over the Jack of Diamonds. He threw his head back, crowing with delight.
Jeremy, knowing full well he was about to beat the poor fellow, turned over the Ace of Spades.
The smile slipped right off of Ash’s face. He leaned forward, his eyes bulging with disbelief. “I don’t believe it,” he whispered.
Jeremy scooped up the note and shoved it into his pocket, along with the brown leather booklet. “And that is why you should no longer gamble.”
He started to turn away when Ash rose so forcefully from his chair, it crashed against the wooden floor planks. The man rounded the desk and stood before Jeremy with crossed arms and hatred sparking from his eyes.
“You do not seem surprised in the least about the outcome.” Ash’s eyes narrowed to slits. “That leads me to think you knew what would happen here.”
Of course, he cheated. He’d learned from the very best card sharp who amassed quite a bit of wealth with his uncanny ability to count the cards. The man happened to be his own father’s half-brother. Jeremy always looked forward to Frederick’s visits and learning more ‘tricks’ as Freddy called them. He would practice every day, always looking forward to showing his uncle how far he’d advanced between visits.
And then one frigid Christmas evening, when Jeremy was home from Eton to celebrate the holiday with family, his father had a fight with Freddy and the man never again stepped foot on the property. Jeremy always wondered what they fought about and why neither man sought out the other to make amends. He also wondered why Freddy never sought him out after his father’s death. That still bothered him to think about.
Jeremy focused back on the present, squared his shoulders and faced Ash. He was trying to teach the idiot a lesson about gambling one’s life away. Yet, he didn’t think now was a good time to fully explain what he had done. The man was unstable at the moment. Instead, he feigned outrage to be called a cheat and crossed is own arms. “Careful, old man, lest you say something you come to regret.”
A vein throbbed at Ash’s right temple, and his jaw clenched several times, then he scooped up the deck of cards. “We will start over, and I will shuffle this time.” He went still, his eyes daring Jeremy to refuse.
Jeremy gave a nod. “As you wish.” It didn’t matter who shuffled at this point. The cards had been in order when Ash initially retrieved them from the drawer, and that was all Jeremy needed to know to count the cards and approximate with incredibly good accuracy what he chose to draw. Sometimes he would draw a king, a queen if he wasn’t paying enough attention. But he never drew lower than that.
Ash slapped the cards onto the wood, making the pen skitter across the slick surface and over the other side of the desk. Then he spread them out. “Point to the card you want and I will turn it over for you,” he demanded. “I don’t want you even touching the cards.”
Jeremy nearly rolled his eyes. Instead, he shrugged and started to point to the Ace of Spades, but decided at the last minute to give the fellow a sporting chance. He then tapped his finger before the King of Spades.
When Ash flipped the card over, his eyes went wide. He stared at the card for six full seconds, his face going a nasty red-purple hue. Then the man snarled something Jeremy couldn’t make out and turned over the Three of Diamonds.
With a string of curses, the poor fellow rounded the desk and poured himself another drink. He downed it and turned, much less steady on his feet. “You have the devil’s own luck, Fielding. Everyone knows that.” He poured another drink and took a deep gulp. “I have no luck at all. Deuced unfair.” When he downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass, he shook his head, swaying a bit. “I could sure use some of your luck before I lose everything.”
Jeremy didn’t like the sound of that. He imagined what his mother would do if she didn’t have him to come to her rescue all the time. She would spend the rest of her life in debtor’s prison. Pursing his lips, he asked, “Why don’t you sell Ross Shipping to me? I will make you an incredibly generous offer.”
Ash heaved a sigh. “Can’t. The purchase came with conditions. One was I couldn’t sell it without Miranda’s—” He stopped and shook his head, then looked up with red, bleary eyes. “That company is the only thing I have left of any value. Everything else is either gone or entailed and losing money. Losing lots of money.”
Taking pity on the fellow, Jeremy came around the desk and put a hand on his shoulder. “Now that we are family, why don’t you allow me to glance at your books? Perhaps there is some way I can help.”
With a miserable nod, Ash said, “Why not? It certainly couldn’t hurt.” He turned and opened the bottom desk drawer. “Oh, wait, this is Father’s last ledger. Mine are here,” he said and reached for the middle drawer.
“Hold on, there, let me see your Father’s ledger once more.” Jeremy glanced down and kept his shock from showing. A small silver snake coiled up in the corner of the black cover stared up at him. It matched the one he had filched from Montague’s desk. “May I take that one with me? I would like to start there.”
“Take the miserable thing, if you think it will help,” Ash said and turned to straighten his chair.
Jeremy retrieved the ledger. Oh, it helped all right. He might finally find an answer to why his father had died grasping one of Viper’s rings.