To Please A Lady (The Seduction Series) Read online

  Ellie stiffened.

  “Your mother was quite distraught when you stopped speaking to her.”

  James could keep quiet no longer. “They sold her.”

  The woman shrugged. “Some do see it as a business transaction. It happens often. They had no idea he was so quick to temper.”

  Temper? Ellie’s husband had worse issues than a bad temper. James parted his lips to argue with the woman, when they were interrupted by a footman who came running around the corner. “My lady.” He handed Hilda a note. “I was told it is important.”

  “Thank you, Andrew.”

  The young man bowed and left.

  James squeezed Ellie’s hand in silent support as they waited for the woman to read her mail. He’d known, hadn’t he, that Hilda would take Lord Beckett’s side. It didn’t matter. Whether she could get a divorce or not, in his eyes she was no longer married to that monster. She was his, only his.

  Hilda sighed as she tossed the note to the tabletop and focused unblinkingly on Ellie. “Your husband is wanted for the murder of Lady Lavender.”

  Ellie went pale with shock. James tried to suppress his own surprise but feared he wasn’t faring well. Dead? No, it couldn’t be.

  “Lady Lavender?” Ellie whispered.

  “Yes.” The woman sighed. “No one with whom you should concern yourself.”

  For one long moment he couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Ophelia was gone. He wasn’t sure how to feel, or even if he should feel anything. For over a decade the woman had been his friend, his companion, or so he’d thought. Now she was… dead. Gone. Her entire life’s work had focused on revenge. Instead of the thrilling sense of victory he probably should have felt, he seemed only numb. Despite his hatred for the woman, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping that her death had come quickly and painlessly.

  “Then there is just cause for a divorce?” Ellie asked.

  “We do not allow women to divorce.”

  James felt hot, his anger flaring to life. His entire body trembled with pent-up emotion. Good God, was the man to know no punishment for his crimes? “Not even when they’re married to murderers?”

  “Surely you must see the error in that,” Eleanor added, and he could feel her own frustrated anger mounting.

  Cousin Hilda frowned, and James had to resist the urge to come to Ellie’s defense, to curse the entire royal family and all of England to hell. It would only make matters worse, and so James clenched his jaw and remained stubbornly mute.

  Hilda sighed, her face softening slightly. “I can’t help but feel this is my fault. I introduced you, after all. I knew your parents were looking for a sound match.”

  “I do not wish to blame anyone,” Ellie said. “Blame and bitterness are a waste of time. I have a chance now for happiness. I…” She looked at James and he felt her gaze all the way to his soul. “I love him.”

  His heart contracted before bursting into a wild gallop that sent his pulse racing. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Ellie… loved him? It was more than he deserved. She was more than he deserved, but he would take whatever she had to offer. Damn it all, he would take her and never look back.

  “And you, young man, do you love my cousin?”

  He didn’t dare look away from Ellie for fear she would disappear. “With everything I am.”

  The smile that lit her eyes warmed his cold, bitter soul, and in that moment he truly believed anything was possible. They could have a life together, they could have a future.

  “When the truth is uncovered about the divorce, and your affair,” Hilda interrupted, the voice of reason, “and we all know that it will eventually get out, you will be ignored.”

  Ellie nodded. They had already discussed the ramifications. Up until this point he wasn’t sure he believed her when she said she didn’t care. “For most of my adult life I have been the toast of the ton. I have been surrounded by supposed friends and family, yet I had never felt more alone and misunderstood.”

  Hilda didn’t seem to like her answer, and frowned. James gripped Ellie’s hand and squeezed. No matter what happened, they had each other, he wanted to remind her. Hilda poured herself a fresh cup of tea while they waited.

  “Nonsense,” Hilda finally said. “You have plenty of friends.”

  “Not a true friend.” Ellie leaned close to her cousin. “I am positive that one good friend, one person who truly understands you, is better than a hundred who only see the woman in a fashionable dress.”

  Hilda quirked a gray brow. “Very poetic and lovely, but we must be realistic about these matters. Your fortune will be a pittance of what you have now.”

  “Clothing and homes mean nothing in the face of happiness.”

  Hilda sighed, shaking her head in obvious frustration. James more than admired the way Ellie kept her head high, even though it was obvious Hilda was not on their side. She was sweet and strong, brilliant and kind. She would thrive, he realized, no matter if they lived in a bleedin’ castle or a fisherman’s cottage.

  Hilda stood. “I see you are determined.”

  By the set of her jaw and hardness in her eyes, James realized they had lost the battle. Ellie stood slowly and he followed. But for Ellie it wasn’t just that she’d lost her life; she’d lost her family as well. Everything she knew. Everything she had been born into… gone.

  “You will give up everything for a man?” Hilda asked as her lady’s maid rushed forward and picked up her shawl. “Your place in society, your money, your privilege?”

  Ellie took James’s hand. He was so damn proud of her courage his chest felt tight. “No, it’s not just for a man, it’s for love, and it’s for my freedom.”

  Hilda sighed, her gaze softening ever so slightly. “You might not be able to divorce, but perhaps we can talk your husband into divorcing you.”

  Ellie’s hand tightened around his, but he didn’t dare give in to his hope.

  Hilda’s maid settled a paisley shawl around the old woman’s shoulders. “I will see what can be done, but I make no promises.”

  Ellie’s voice was breathless with excitement. “Thank you, cousin.”

  The woman started to leave, only to pause and glance back. “One more thing… your Aunt Jeanie.”

  Ellie’s smile fell. “Yes?”

  “Are you aware that she left you a trust?”

  Eleanor shook her head, obviously confused.

  Hilda’s mouth grew tight. “Not surprised they didn’t tell you. I’m not sure of how much or what, but I remember your mother mentioning it. I shall look into the matter and get back to you.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie whispered.

  The older woman nodded. “Just promise me.” She focused on James. “Promise you will make it worth the effort.”

  “I swear,” James said, and he meant it. “I will do everything in my power to make her happy.”

  Chapter 19

  Three days.

  Three bloody days and they hadn’t heard a word from Eleanor’s cousin.

  James had always been a patient man, but their lives were at stake; patience be damned. The talk with Alex’s father had led to little. The man would not help him, and he’d only stirred up more anger between son and father. It didn’t help that the man didn’t believe in divorce. Then again, seeing his meek wife cowering in the hall, James wasn’t surprised.

  Since his prison release James and Ellie had been hiding at the inn, waiting on the outskirts of London, waiting for Eleanor’s cousin to send word. He moved through the common room, ignoring the loud chatter and the nod of the innkeeper. Their situation was becoming all the more dire. What would they do? Alex and Gideon would loan them money. Gideon had even offered him a position overseeing the estate. But Lord Beckett was still out there… somewhere, and apparently he wouldn’t be satisfied until they all suffered. He could not put Alex and Gideon in danger any longer.

  He headed up the stairs, his footsteps slowing, his anger slipping away. Part of him was eager to see Ellie, a
lways so eager. Part of him dreaded the look upon her face when he told her he’d failed… again.

  He supposed she would eventually get her divorce, once they found her husband. And she had her aunt’s trust, whatever it may be. Perhaps she could live in relative peace. She could endure the stigma of a divorce, but could she live through the stigma of marrying a whore? He wrapped his fingers around the door handle and was surprised when it opened easily under his touch. He’d warned her to keep it locked at all times.

  Ellie was seated at the small desk, a letter in hand, the day’s paper spread out on her lap. For a moment he merely stood there and took in the sight. The way the light pierced the curtains, highlighting her hair like gold. The way she bit at her lower lip as she concentrated. The blue of her gown that he knew matched her eyes. Everything was perfect in that moment, and he swore he would have been content to merely stand there for eternity and gaze upon her. As if sensing him, she glanced over her shoulder.

  “James?” Ellie surged from her chair, her eyes were bright, her breathing rapid, and he knew… he knew in that moment that she had received word from her cousin. “It’s happened. My cousin has permission. When they find Lord Beckett, they will force him to agree to a divorce. The fee will be high, but I don’t mind.”

  He should have been thrilled, he wanted to be, yet there was more. He could see in her eyes that there was more. “Let me see.”

  Her smile wavered. “What do you mean?”

  “The letter.”

  “Oh, there’s no reason.” She started to turn, but James was faster. He snatched the letter from her fingers before she had time to fight back.

  “James!” Ellie cried out, lunging for the missive.

  He spun out of her reach and read the note.

  Dearest Cousin,

  You will be happy to know that I have received permission from Victoria herself to grant your divorce, as long as we find your husband. This is not all… I thought your reactions odd the other day when I told you of Lady Lavender’s death. I have uncovered the truth of your James McKinnon.

  The letter began to tremble in his hands. If it had been so easy for Hilda to uncover the truth, who knew how long they had before all of England knew his secrets?

  I do not wish to know the details, nor will we have contact again, as I’m sure you’ll understand. I suggest sending a note to your parents, warning them. I pray this does not affect the stature of your youngest sister who is only sixteen and not yet married. As you can imagine, you will be cut off from everyone you know.

  I do not blame you for desiring a divorce, for no one would want to live as you have for so many years. But I do highly suggest you rethink your friendship with Mr. McKinnon. I had every intention of keeping your secrets, but as I read the newspaper this morning (see enclosed) I noticed that it somehow has already gotten out. I bless you and your life and hope that you only find happiness.

  One more thing, I have looked into the trust your aunt set up for you. You own a nice cottage on the west coast, along with ten thousand pounds. It’s not a lot, but with good planning you should be able to survive. I am unable to do more, although I wish I could.

  Yours truly.

  “It means nothing,” she whispered.

  He ignored her and reached for the newspaper. Thanks to the large circle Eleanor’s cousin had drawn, James was easily able to find the excerpt.

  “James, don’t,” Eleanor pleaded.

  By now all of London knows that a certain lord is wanted for murdering a loose woman and owner of England’s most infamous den of sin. What London doesn’t know is that rumors are circulating that this lord’s wife was a frequent guest at this brothel. The scandal! Many are now wondering… was this a crime of passion, or was this lord merely trying to avenge his wife’s honor? This writer, dear readers, says it’s too late for that!

  “Do you know what this means?” James asked softly.

  “It means that we can be free soon, very soon.” She might be feigning excitement, but he could see the anxiety in her eyes.

  She knew exactly what it meant. He folded the paper and handed it back to her. “It means that London is going to take your husband’s side. It means that if they do hear the rumors about your beatings, they will merely assume it was because of your frequent visits to a brothel.”

  He strolled toward the fireplace, his mind troubled, his emotions in turmoil. Eleanor was an heiress. Perhaps not much of one, but it made things all the more difficult. If she had enough money, she might actually be able to remarry another man who could restore her reputation, not drag it down even further. And why wouldn’t she find another husband? She was beautiful, courageous…

  “James, we can marry, we can have a home away from all of this.”

  All of this was his fault. “If we find Lord Beckett, and if they charge him with murder.” He swallowed hard, resting his hands on the mantel and staring into the flames. What would happen on the day when she awoke, looked at him, and realized not only had she married beneath herself, but she had married a whore?

  “James?” She started toward him, her footsteps slow and hesitant. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s… wonderful. All of London has dragged your name through the mud.”

  She paused behind him. They didn’t touch, but it didn’t matter, he could sense her. He had a feeling he would always be able to sense her. “I can’t care what others think.”

  But he could care for her. “Think on it, Ellie. The stigma as a divorced woman might knock you down a peg or two. But when the world finds out you remarried a whore they will destroy you.”

  “Is it because I can’t have children?”

  “No!” He spun around to face her, shocked she would even think such a thing. “Of course not.”

  The frantic pain in her gaze nearly did him in. “Then what is it?”

  What could he say without hurting her more? Nothing. Either way he’d tear out her heart, but hurting her now would save her later, wouldn’t it? “I find… I find that perhaps I want my freedom, as you.”

  She went pale, her lower lip trembling. His heart clenched and he hated himself in that moment more than he ever had before. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been trapped, a slave, for years. Perhaps I want… to travel.”

  “We can travel.”

  He raked his hands through his hair. “Perhaps I want to answer to no one but myself for once.”

  She flinched and he felt it like a knife to his gut, but he knew things would be so much worse if he married her. He was doing this for her own good, he had to remind himself. In her aunt’s cottage, perhaps she could find peace, and the love of a kind, honorable man.

  “You want…” She took in a deep, trembling breath, but already he could see that wall fall back down around her, shielding her from the pain of life. “You want to leave?”

  “I think it might be best.”

  She clenched her jaw, anger flaring to life in those blue eyes. He welcomed her ire, for he would much rather see her angry than sad. “I will not beg you to stay. I swore I would never beg again. If you want to leave, then go.”

  It was his way out, a path away from the pain he knew he would cause her later in life. How could he live with himself, witnessing the disappointment year after year in her eyes? It would be his parents’ marriage all over again. Yet he hesitated. The thought of being without her was too much to bear.

  “Go!” she cried, turning her back to him in a flurry of blue skirts.

  He closed his eyes. If he left he would ruin her opinion of men forever. Yet if he left she might have a chance at a life. Some sort of life… damn it all, he didn’t know what to do. And so he turned. He turned, knowing Alex and Gideon would protect her, and he walked out the door, leaving his heart and his chance for a future behind.

  Each step down the narrow stairway he told himself he was doing this for her, but even he didn’t believe the words. Numbly, he moved through the common room and outside
. The small town was too far from London to walk. He hadn’t a clue where he would go, no idea what he would do for a living. None of it mattered.

  “James?”

  He glanced up to see Patience and Alex heading across the dusty front garden. Briefly he wondered if he still had enough time to escape and avoid the many questions he knew they would have.

  “What is it?” Alex asked. “What’s wrong?”

  The man knew him too well. They might not have shared much at Lady Lavender’s but they had spent years together. James glanced at a passing couple, out for a stroll, envying them. “Ellie will be granted a divorce if and when Lord Beckett is brought to justice.”

  Patience clasped her hands together in glee, looking very much like the young romantic she was. “But that’s wonderful!”

  James forced himself to smile. “Yes. She’s free.”

  Patience frowned, not missing the strain to his voice. Alex merely watched him with those all-knowing eyes. How could he explain? They had gone through so much to help him escape, and they would assume he was throwing it away.

  “Patience, wait on the steps, will you?” Alex said.

  She nodded and moved reluctantly across the garden, toward the inn. James gritted his teeth, in no mood to hear whatever it was Alex had to say.

  “But you aren’t, are you?”

  “What?” James snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not what?”

  “You’re not free because even though she is gone, dead, Ophelia still has control over you. It’s why you’re so bloody angry.”

  “Don’t be an arse, Alex.” James’s gaze snapped back. “Ellie and I have merely decided that perhaps we shouldn’t be together.”

  “Nonsense!” he growled. “You think I don’t know exactly what you’re going through? You think I don’t know that your worries keep you up at night? You think to save her reputation, don’t you?”

  James flushed, his hands curling as he resisted the urge to shove the man aside. “She’s better off without me, surely you know that.”