Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage

CHAPTER 39

James tossed the small glass of gin into the back of his throat. He gritted his teeth. It tasted like hell. But the Curious Goat Inn was as fine a place as any to drink his troubles away. They’d given him a table in the back, a full bottle of liquor, and a questionably clean glass. Perfect.

He tipped the bottle to the mouth of the glass again, clicking the two together. Damn it all to hell. He’d done the one thing he swore he would never do. He’d actually gone and fallen in love. Of all blasted things. It’s true that he hadn’t completely ruled out marriage. Hell, he’d proposed to Lily a matter of months ago. She’d turned him down of course, but love had never been a factor. And it wouldn’t be. Or so he’d vowed years ago. Years and years ago. Marriage and children were one thing. Love was another thing altogether.

He’d only ever loved, truly loved, one other woman in the world, and he’d both never met her and been responsible for her death. Love meant a great deal of pain and a great deal of risk, two things he wanted no part of. His tightly controlled life had been a study in perfection, yes. And perfection involved making the right decisions too. Love made nothing but messes. Big, odious messes. Ones that needed to be cleaned up posthaste.

Right. Love had no place in his world. But he’d bloody well gone and fallen in it regardless. Despite his vows and best intentions, he’d fallen in love with Kate. And she’d rejected him. And it hurt, damn it. Her standing there telling him she couldn’t allow him to ruin himself over her. That had been nothing more than an excuse. If she loved him, truly loved him, she wouldn’t let anything stand in the way. Just like he wouldn’t. What did a reputation matter when compared to true love? Bah. He couldn’t even listen to his own thoughts anymore. He was turning into a blasted bad poet. Bloody hell. He’d thought he’d found the one woman he could finally love, and instead, he’d found the second woman who could mortally wound him. And that sort of loss of control he could not allow. He curled his hand around the bottle of gin and squeezed.

Sloshing the contents of the bottle into his glass, he tossed back a second drink and then a third. It all began to make a bit more sense. Very well. He’d lost his head for a time. But just like anything else, reason and logic could easily overcome it. And that’s exactly what he intended to do. Reason through it. And reason told him that not only was he to stop loving Kate immediately, he would never open himself up to that sort of pain again. His drunken brain finally allowed him to admit the truth. It began and ended with his mother. Deep down, he’d always known that. He’d lived his entire life with the pain of losing the only woman he ever loved. And now he’d lost the second one. It was over. Kate couldn’t hurt him any more than she already had. He’d already lost her.

And now he would steel his heart against the smallest bit of weakness, the tiniest inclination to fall in love again. Done. Over with. Finished.

And he’d ensure all of it. Tomorrow.

Tonight? Tonight, he was going to drink.

The door to the tavern opened. The patrons’ heads swiveled to stare at the two fine gentlemen who’d just entered. The tall men strolled leisurely through the gin-drinking set until they happened upon James at the back of the room.

Ah, right on time. His companions had made it. Who better to drink with?

Jordan Holloway whistled. “Now this I truly had to see to believe. Tying one on, Medford? What has the world come to?”

“Shut up and have a drink,” James replied, scraping the bottle across the wooden table toward his friends.

“And in a seedy tavern of all places.” Colton glanced around the public house. “Why aren’t you at the club drinking properly?” He gestured toward James. “Instead of sitting here, at a dirty table, with your cravat half untied, your hair a complete mess, a smudge of dirt on your shirt, and … is that a blackened eye? What the hell happened to you?”

James growled. “I don’t want the patrons of Brooks’s to see me like this. Bloody snobs, the lot of them. And as for the eye, some bloke said something I didn’t particularly agree with earlier.”

“Fighting in a public tavern, Medford? Really?” Ashbourne shook his head while obviously trying to hold back his laughter.

James narrowed his eyes on the earl. “Don’t give me another reason for a fight.”

Ashbourne held up both hands in a conciliatory manner. “Don’t think I—” He looked twice. “Holy God, man. Are you drinking gin?”

“Yes,” James replied, slurring the word a bit. “And I intend to drink more gin and more after that. Now sit down. I summoned you to drink with me, not to judge me.”

Colton and Ashbourne exchanged knowing looks, pulled out two dirty stools, and took their seats.

Ashbourne’s grin spread across his entire face. “You’ve summoned the right chaps. Far be it from me to argue with you when you’re in one of your moods, Medford. Tell us, did you find the duchess?”

“Don’t call her that,” James snapped, frowning at them.

Ashbourne shook his head. “Oh no, Medford, please don’t tell me you’re an angry drunk. And here all this time I’d pegged you for a jolly one. It’s ever so much more endearing to be jolly … like me.”

James grunted. “Yes, I saw her.”

“And?” Colton arched a brow.

“And she refused me.” James tossed back another shot of gin.

Another whistle from Ashbourne. “Did she now?”

“Do you think I would make that up?” James spat.

“Look on the bright side, man,” Ashbourne replied. “You won’t have to be leg-shackled. Besides, not quite the best form to ask a new widow to marry you. If you two weren’t already courting scandal, God knows you’d be run out of town after a fast marriage. She’s supposed to still be in mourning.”

James lunged out of his seat at Ashbourne. Colton stood up quickly and held him back. “Now, now, now. No need to take a swing at the bloke,” Colton said, ensuring that James grudgingly sat back down.

Ashbourne snorted. “Right. You don’t want your other eye blackened.”

James merely growled at him.

“You can hardly be angry, Medford,” Colton continued. “It’s not even as if she’s the first lady you asked to marry you.”

James propped his elbow on the table, letting his fingers weave through his hair. “This is completely different.”

Ashbourne and Colton exchanged glances again.

“Hand me the bottle.” James reached across the table for the gin.

“Hold on,” Ashbourne said. James watched while he and Colton both received their own dirty glasses from one of the barmaids and tipped the bottle into their own cups.

Ashbourne raised his glass. “If you’re going to do this, you might as well do it properly,” he said, tipping back his drink. “Let’s go.”

Hours later, with James passed out on the table, Colton and Ashbourne stood up, tossed an indecent number of coins on the table, and each took one of Medford’s arms. They pulled their friend’s limp body and hefted him up to rest on their shoulders.

Ashbourne shook his head. “And to think of all the years we’ve tried to get the good viscount to relax and have a good time.”

Colton nodded over Medford’s head. “Seems he learned a bit too well.”

Ashbourne flashed a grin. “He always was a perfect student.”

“Too good,” Colton agreed, also grinning. “But of course, tonight he learned from the very best tutors.” He hefted Medford up again. “Let’s get him home.”

Sticking his hat on his head and wrapping his cloak loosely around his shoulders, they pulled him out into the street where they maneuvered him into Colton’s waiting coach. “I’ll take him to my house. Keep an eye on him. God knows the man’s probably never suffered the aftereffects of a night of drinking. Things may not be good in the morning.”

“You know what we must do, don’t you?” Ashbourne said, climbing into the coach with his friend.

“What’s that?” Colton replied.

They propped Medford in the corner where his chin rested on his chest. Ashbourne leaned against the opposite seat. “This bloke here has done us both a good turn when we were in similar pitiful circumstances.”

Colton arched a brow. “You mean being in love?”

“Quite right,” Ashbourne replied, leaning back against the seat, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles.

Colton shrugged. “So?”

“So, it’s our turn, Colton. We owe him one. It’s our duty to assist the poor sop.”