CHAPTER 2

“Medford, how can you be so flippant about all of this?” Lily Morgan, the Marchioness of Colton, asked, plunking her hands on her hips and tapping her foot on the wide Aubusson rug that adorned the floor of James’s drawing room.

They had just adjourned to the blue salon in James’s town house. A fire crackled in the hearth next to them and the smell of burning logs permeated the cozy room. James signaled to his butler, Locke, to pour the tea. Then he settled in for a visit with two of his very closest friends, Marchioness Lily and her sister Annie, the Countess of Ashbourne.

“Who’s flippant?” he asked, giving them both a grin.

“You are and you know it,” Annie replied, taking a seat and busily setting about plopping an extra lump of sugar into her teacup. She stirred the drink with a tiny silver spoon. “I, for one, think the poor duchess has been sorely mistreated. I’ve heard no evidence to make me believe she’s guilty.”

“I agree.” Lily nodded. Hands still on her hips, she paced the floor, refusing to take a seat. “Besides, I had the misfortune to meet her husband on more than one occasion and the man was a complete scoundrel. He made overtures to me time and time again. Can you imagine?” She turned back to Medford. “But asking her to write a pamphlet is entirely flippant of you.”

“I disagree,” James replied. “I think it will be a welcome opportunity for her. Not to mention I’ve asked her to name her terms.”

“And what did she ask for?” Lily wanted to know.

James shrugged. “Nothing yet. I’m returning to the Tower today to get her answer … and her terms.”

Lily shook her head. “Hmm. Shrouded in mystery Lady Katherine Townsende has been.”

Annie set down her cup. “I read that she was the daughter of a landowner in Kent. Apparently, she caught the Duke of Markingham’s eye when she was eighteen. They married, and she’s been kept tucked away in the countryside all these years.” She cleared her throat. “Ahem, until her husband’s untimely death, that is.”

Lily tapped her cheek with her fingertip. “Yes, well, now she’s a complete scandal. The entire ton is convinced she’s a murderess.”

Medford grinned. “Yes, but she’s a murderess with a story to tell. And that makes all the difference.”

“I didn’t say she was a murderess, I said everyone thinks she’s a murderess. I intend to reserve my judgment until I’ve heard more facts about the case. What did you think of her?” Lily asked, with an arched brow.

James’s mind retraced to his meeting with the duchess the day before. She’d stepped into the room. So slight. A dark cloak with a hood covered her head. Her face had been in shadow, but James hadn’t mistaken her momentary uncertainty, nor her pride. She’d held her shoulders erect, her head high. There had been a bit of anger, too. He sensed it when he’d narrowed his eyes on her delicate form. He didn’t blame her for being angry, his was not a social call after all. She was thin, perhaps too thin. Of medium height, she did not seem capable of murdering a grown man, let alone Markingham. The duke had been tall, and strong. A large man, her husband.

When the duchess had stepped into the shaft of winter sunlight and pushed the hood from her head, James had sucked in his breath. The Duchess of Markingham was absolutely stunning. In his thirty-three years he’d never seen her equal. She had alabaster skin, a straight thin nose, and a riotous mass of golden-red hair that tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. She’d glanced up, her cornflower-blue eyes shooting sparks at him from beneath the velvety blackness of her impossibly long eyelashes. The smudge of dirt on one of her high cheekbones only served to highlight the ethereal beauty of her face.

James had glanced away. He’d heard the duchess was a beauty, but he hadn’t been prepared. She was more than beautiful. She was a goddess come to life.

He glanced back at Lily. “She seemed … like a lady in a great deal of trouble.”

“Is she as beautiful as everyone says?” Annie asked with a sigh, a dreamy smile on her face.

Leave it to Annie to ask such a direct question. James tugged at his cravat. “She is … beautiful. Yes, I might call her that.”

Lily watched him carefully. “But what did you think about her? How did she seem?”

“To be honest.” He tugged at his cuff. “She surprised me. I’d half expected a termagant the likes of which I’d never encountered before. Instead, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the woman.”

Lily stopped pacing. Her gaze scanned his face. “Why?”

James bit the inside of his cheek, considering the question for a moment. “I suppose it was because she didn’t seem fearful.”

“What do you mean?” Annie asked, leaning closer.

James shrugged and settled back in his seat. “She was poised. Calm. She carried herself like … like a duchess.”

Lily rubbed one finger across her chin. “Is it possible that she wasn’t afraid? She’s soon to be on trial for her life.”

“I cannot imagine.” Annie shuddered. “They say she was there, with her husband’s body, when they found him. He was lying on the floor of his bedchamber, shot with his own pistol in the chest.”

“It’s absolutely ghastly,” Lily agreed. “Not a wonder the rumors have been rampant. And if she didn’t kill him, it certainly doesn’t look good for her defense.”

“Yes, and unfortunately, it stands to reason,” Annie said.

James cocked his head to the side. “Why’s that?”

“Because just days after his murder, Lady Bettina Swinton, a close friend of the duke’s, told everyone that the duchess had recently informed him that she intended to seek a divorce,” Annie replied.

James arched a brow. “Is that so?”

Annie nodded.

“It does look bad for her,” Lily said. “The case has caused riots. I read that crowds had gathered around the coach that brought the duchess from her husband’s estate in the countryside to the Tower. The traveling party was nearly overrun with the rioters. The king’s guard was called in to bring her to the prison unscathed.”

James scooped up the newspaper that rested on the table beside him. “It’s not every day a duchess is accused of murder.”

Annie lifted her teacup to her lips again and shook her head. “I still refuse to rush to judgment. It’s completely unfair that that poor young woman is sitting over there in a freezing gaol while the entire ton speculates about whether she shot her husband. I admit I’ve never met her but it’s entirely possible that she is innocent.”

Lily turned to face James. “We haven’t met her, Annie, but Medford has.”

The two sisters eyed him carefully.

“So, Lord Medford, what do you think?” Annie asked. “Based on your acquaintance with the Duchess of Markingham, is she an evil murderess or an unfortunate innocent?”

James folded the paper in half. “As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter either way. The fact is, the ton is vying for details of the story and what better details could one possibly gather than those that came directly from the lady herself? Scandal is my trade. Regardless of her guilt or innocence, I want the duchess to write for me. Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage will be immensely popular.”

Lily sighed. “Once again, you’re being flippant.”

“On the contrary,” James replied, tossing the paper aside and straightening his already straight cravat. “I am merely attempting to provide the public with what it desperately wants, a pamphlet written by the Duchess of Markingham. There has been nothing like this scandal to set the town on its ear since … ever. People want to read about the details. Sorry to say, but even Secrets of a Wedding Night and Secrets of a Runaway Bride weren’t as popular as this stands to be,” he said, referring to the pamphlets the two sisters had written for him earlier in the year when they’d both been involved in their own adventures.

Lily rolled her eyes at him. “That’s not my point and you know it. Those pamphlets were written anonymously. This will be entirely different. Everyone will know the duchess wrote it, if she agrees to, that is. She’s involved in enough scandal as it is without adding a tell-all pamphlet to the list. Personally, I think she should refuse you.”

“That’s not very loyal of you, my lady,” James pointed out, still grinning.

Annie took another sip of her tea, then bit her lip. “I’m not sure what to think. If the duchess really does have a story to tell, the pamphlet may help her with regard to public opinion. But, if she is guilty…” Annie winced. “I cannot imagine she’d agree to write it, however, if that were the case.”

James stretched his legs in front of him and crossed his feet at the ankles. “Either way, the decision is up to the duchess. She intends to give me her answer today, and I’ve every expectation she’ll say yes.”

“What makes you so certain?” Lily made her way toward the fireplace where she warmed her hands and looked back over her shoulder at James.

He flashed a grin at her. “Why, because I’ve offered her an indecent amount of money.”

Annie leaned forward, her dark eyes sparkling. “How indecent?”

“Sufficiently indecent,” he replied with a wink.

Lily tossed a hand in the air. “What good will money do a woman who’s sentenced to death?”

“Quite right.” Annie nodded, shuddering.

“It shall help pay for her defense for one thing,” James replied. “If she’s wise she’ll hire a Bow Street runner to investigate the case separately from the official investigation. Now, come sit down,” he said to Lily. “Speaking of indecent, I’ve put an indecent amount of cream in your teacup and we all know how much you love cream.”

Annie laughed. “That’s true. She’s like a cat.”

Lily turned away from the fire and hurried over to join them. “The fact that the duchess didn’t already take the offer makes me think she intends to turn it down.”

“Nonsense.” James pushed Lily’s teacup toward her. “She wanted to consider my offer, that’s all. She’d be a fool to refuse it.”

“She’s a duchess. She’s already rich,” Annie pointed out, slyly pulling a teacake from the little porcelain plate in the center of the table.

James arched a brow. “Her husband’s assets have been seized by the courts until the trial is finished. She has no access to his money, and I sincerely doubt her mother-in-law is in much of a generous mood at present.”

“If she’s innocent, Medford, we expect you to help her,” Lily said.

“Help her? What do I have to do with it?”

Lily gave him a small smile. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to, James. We happen to know you have a soft spot for damsels in distress.” She gave her sister a conspiratorial grin.

James pursed his lips. “There’s no chance of that happening here. I intend to keep my business with her entirely secret … and entirely business.”

“But if you learn she’s not guilty, you’ll help her. I know you will,” Annie added, leaning over and patting his hand.

James shrugged. “I don’t know whether she’s guilty, and to be honest, I don’t much care. All I know is her story will sell pamphlets.”

“And that’s all that matters to you?” Annie asked, a frown on her face. “Selling pamphlets?”

“Of course not,” James replied with a grin. “I intend to sell a great many pamphlets.”

Lily rolled her eyes at him again. “But what if the duchess is innocent?”

“I’m giving her a chance to tell her story, aren’t I? Besides, it’s not as if I pulled the trigger and shot her husband, nor did I accuse her of doing so. This entire situation was already well made before I ever got wind of it.”

“But how can you be so nonchalant when an innocent woman may be sentenced to die?” Annie had left half of her teacake on her plate, a sure sign she was thoroughly distracted.

“You don’t fool me for one moment, James Bancroft,” Lily interjected. “I give you one week of dealing with the duchess before you’re assisting with her defense.”

James shook his head. “Now that is utter nonsense. I draw the line at aiding a murderess.”

“But you don’t know for certain that she is a murderess,” Annie pointed out, brushing crumbs from her skirts.

James stood up and tossed his napkin on the table. “Indeed, I hope the truth will out, for the duchess’s sake. Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies. I have a prisoner to visit.”

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