Page 14 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“What’s the stir this early?” Tris gazed after the man, who had shot down the pathway, engaged the servant, then kicked his horse into a gallop and headed for the gate.

“S’blood. It must be Juliet. Nothing else could make him push for that kind of speed.” Duncan clutched his reins and squeezed his knees against his horse for all he was worth. The animal leaped forward, leaving Tris coughing at the dust he kicked up.

A touched of his heel and Lucifer sped after the others. What else would happen before noon? He really didn’t want to contemplate that question at all.

* * * *

“If I’d found them together, I’d have shot the bastard without a second thought.” Duncan poured a tumbler of brandy and handed it to Tris. “Morley showed considerable restraint in my opinion.”

The quiet of Duncan’s study was a blessed relief after the morning’s excitement.

They’d reached the house to find it in an uproar. Viscount St. Cyr, claiming to be Juliet’s husband, had boldly entered and attempted to seduce her. Morley had discovered them and threatened to put a bullet in the viscount’s brain. After he fled, Juliet had fainted. Tris and Duncan had arrived just as she regained consciousness.

“If anything good has come of St. Cyr’s treachery today, I suspect it’s a reconciliation between Juliet and Morley.” Hovering near the polished sideboard, Duncan downed three fingers of the fiery amber liquid and poured another. A familiar tic appeared in his right eye, which meant the marquess was damn well angry at someone.

“A reconciliation? Morley and Juliet have been estranged?” The scene Tris had just witnessed upstairs had hardly seemed between two people disinterested in one another. He’d hurried from the room, afraid the couple would forget themselves and indulge in a passionate moment before witnesses. “I’d never believe it.”

“Oh, Morley’s been the disenchanted one, to be sure.” A moment of drumming of his fingers on the sideboard then Duncan set the decanter down and stoppered it. “I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say, Juliet’s been damned unpleasant company for the past month. I’m just glad it’s over.” He eyed Tris and took a pull at the brandy. “You came to tell me about Carlton’s sister.”

Avoiding his friend’s scrutiny, Tris took a gulp and set the tumbler on a nearby table. “Yes. Hell of shock, that. I’d no more idea Carlton had a family than the man in the moon. And to find the woman had been reduced to employment in a brothel made me damned uncomfortable.”

“No business of ours.” Duncan shrugged. “The code puts no onus on us to inquire about a combatant’s associations. One would hope going into a duel a gentleman, even one acting as a second, had put his affairs in order in case the worst happened.”

“It would seem not in the case of Mr. Carlton. He appears to have been undisciplined in all respects.” Tris ground his teeth. The man should have known what might happen to his sister in the case of his demise. Of course, seconds rarely dueled these days. Still, he should have accounted for all contingencies.

Duncan stared over his glass. “Did you find out before or after you bedded her?”

“During.”

“Gads.” That seemed to shake the marquess. “Had she been there long?”

Tris gripped the glass, then chuckled. “I was to have been her first customer.”

“What?” The scowl that darkened Duncan’s face said he didn’t find it a laughing matter. “You went to deflower a virgin?”

Throwing up a hand to ward off the recriminations that would surely follow, Tris stepped back, hoping to avoid a disagreement. Bad enough guilt over his part in this debacle nagged at him. He didn’t need his friend castigating him as well. “Amorina has always looked out for the type of girl I like. This one, she said, was ‘something special,’ and a virgin.” He could see the note this instant, the sweeping loops of Vestry’s beautiful handwriting creating a brand across his mind. “She intimated I might hone my skills with this girl, as I was soon to marry.”

“That indeed sounds like some of Amorina’s machinations.” Duncan gestured to a leather chair in front of the great mahogany desk, then took his seat in the tall chair behind it. “So you took her at her word?”

“It may sound callous, but I did.” Tris dropped into the chair, suddenly disgusted with himself. “The idea made sense at the time. I’d done it before, but it had been a while. I didn’t want Miss Harper hurt or frightened any more than necessary on our wedding night. So I thought since the woman was willing, it would be to both our advantages. You’ve heard what some women go through with men who fancy a virgin. I’d at least have tried to be gentle the first time.”

“Wait.” Duncan leaned across the desk, his head cocked. “You sound as if it didn’t happen. You said she told you who she was while you were—”

“I stopped. Before I ruined her completely.”

“Indeed.” A smirk on his lips, Duncan leaned back in the tall leather chair. “I commend you on your control.”

“She was crying, damn it.” Her sobs still echoed in his mind. “And I thought...I thought she might have been brought there like your wife was.”

“Christ.” Duncan half rose out of his chair, his face pale. “Was that what happened to her?”

Tris waved him back. “No. She assured me she was there of her own free will, but only because she had no other means of making a living. It happens, even to gently born women.” Thoughts of what almost happened to Miss Carlton made Tris gulp the contents of his glass. “I’m relieved my sisters are all well married. Miss Carlton’s plight has touched a deep chord in me.”

“Did you give her money? Is there anything I can do?” Duncan opened a drawer and took out a bag of coins.

“I got her out of there as quickly and anonymously as I could. She’s currently at the Weldon Street house.”

“With Serena?” The marquess looked scandalized.