Mad Jack (Sherbrooke Brides 4)

“Actually, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen any real discord at all between them. Certainly there’s a lot of yelling and insults between them, but that’s nothing unusual. Douglas is usually touching her or trying to bite her ear, or Alex is leaning up to kiss his neck, teasing him like I’m teaching you how to do.” Gray stood up, then straightened the chair. He dusted himself off. “But this was different. I didn’t like this at all.”

“It’s your fault, Gray, all because you insisted that Helen come here for our wedding. The poor countess, alone and cast out, all because of you bringing that temptress here. Did Douglas really kiss his wife’s breasts? In front of us? And I missed it?”

“Yes,” Gray said, grinning like a glutton over a plateful of pastries, “he most certainly did. Trust me, I would never have insisted that Helen come if I’d had a clue that this could happen. On the other hand, perhaps Alex and Douglas have gotten a bit too settled with each other, too predictable, each knowing what the other is thinking before he speaks, that sort of thing. This has certainly stirred things up, hasn’t it?”

“But what if Douglas falls in love with Helen?”

“No, that won’t happen. Ever. Now, it occurs to me that you haven’t enjoyed my mouth on you in a very long time.”

Jack swallowed, pleated her fingers through the soft muslin of her skirt, and said, “Did you mean that just exactly the way the words emerged from your mouth?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, walking to her, “oh, yes.”

It was Gray’s immediate aim to remove Jack to his bedchamber in the next four minutes, strip her to her white skin, and wallow. He made it to the bottom stair, but no farther. Ryder Sherbrooke burst through the front door, flung his hat on the marble floor, and stomped on it.

“You’ll not believe what those ignorant louts are saying!” Ryder shouted toward them. “I can scare believe it’s happening myself. The lowness of some people.

“Hey, what is this? What the hell’s wrong with you, Gray? You look ready to cry or yell. You have no reason to be irked. Now, listen to me. You must give me your opinion. I just saw Alex and Douglas in their carriage down the street. Were they visiting you?”

“They entertained us for a good half hour,” Gray said. “They just left.”

“I hope they didn’t try to destroy your house,” Ryder said. “I had to leave the Sherbrooke town house this morning because Douglas and Alex were yelling fit to drop the chandelier. It wasn’t their usual sort of yelling either. I suppose they’ll tell me what’s wrong sooner or later.”

Ryder turned on his heel and strode into the drawing room, leaving Quincy to pick up his hat and begin knocking the lumps out of it. “Come along,” he called out over his shoulder.

“What now?” Gray said, an eyebrow lifted a good inch.

Jack sighed, looking longingly at her husband’s mouth, and said, “I never knew there was such excellent entertainment in London. We don’t even have to leave our drawing room.”

“That’s certainly true, curse it.”

Ryder was pacing the drawing room. “To be brief,” he said over his shoulder as Jack and Gray trailed into the room, “I’ve given this a lot of thought and I’ve decided to stand for Parliament. It’s because of the children, of course. God knows that we need laws to protect children. It’s disgraceful how our children can be treated here in England.” He stopped pacing, turned red in the face, and yelled, “My damnable opponent, a Mr. Horace Redfield, who has a fat belly and sour breath, is telling everyone that Brandon House isn’t a home for children I’ve saved. No, it’s all my bastards that are housed there.

“My bastards! I was warned never to trust a damned Whig, curse their perfidious tongues. I should have known. He also has gout and a lot of cronies, blast him.”

Gray whistled in admiration. “That would make you an excessively busy man for many years now, Ryder,” Gray said. “It would also mean that you had a very understanding wife. How many children are there now?”

“Fourteen. But that number goes up and down. And that isn’t all. Redfield even intimated that some of those children are also my brothers’ bastards, that I’m the recipient of all the wayward lust in my family. I heard he was even whispering behind his hand that my brother Tysen, the vicar, has dropped a couple of his by-blows off at Brandon House. Good God, you know Tysen, Gray. He’d squeak and flee the neighborhood if any woman other than that priggish flat-chested wife of his even so much as winked at him. Damnation, I’m going to strangle that little Whig blighter.”

“So Douglas doesn’t know about this yet?”

“No, Jack, he doesn’t.” Ryder paused a moment, then took a longer look at her. “I think I remember you from your wedding day.”

“Yes,” Jack said. “Can’t you simply tell the truth, Mr. Sherbrooke? Wouldn’t that expose Mr. Redfield and all his lies?”

“Call me Ryder,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I am fast learning that in politics there is no such thing as truth, there’s only who’s the best liar and how well he’s able to twist things to his advantage, and how many cronies he has who lie as well as he does.

“Mr. Redfield is preaching about how he reveres the hearth and the family. And here I am, the debauched scourge of the neighborhood, a man with no concern for the spiritual value of marriage at all, living openly with all my congregated bastards and a downtrodden wife who goes along with the fiction.”

Jack said, “But the fact that you have your bastards living near you should convince everyone that you’re a fine, responsible man who cares about any child he brings into the world.”

Gray rolled his eyes. “Jack, you’re sweet and good and very naive. People’s brains don’t work that way. We’ll talk about that later. What else, Ryder?”

“I hear too that Mr. Redfield is using bribery so that people will repeat this ridiculous tale to anyone still breathing. People are credulous, their lives are tedious. Give them a chance to wallow in wickedness and they’ll leap into the mud as fast as a pullet escaping the hatchet. As you said, Gray, people’s brains don’t work in reasonable ways. It’s true that they’ve all known about Brandon House for years. Good God, we order in huge amounts of food locally as well as bolt upon bolt of fabric for clothing. Do you know just how much leather for shoes alone we order? You know how fast the children grow, Gray. It’s hard to keep up with them.

“Yes, they know the truth, but now because Mr. Redfield has intimated hidden lust and sex and scandal, they’re eager to disregard what they’ve known for fact and leap upon this new wagon. It’s just so more titillating than a simple haven for hurt children, and that’s the truth of it, Jack.

“Right in Upper and Lower Slaughter, the very warm belly of England, I’m learning that anything to do with fleshly concerns brings people flocking to believe it.”