To Desire a Wicked Duke (Courtship Wars)

“Cheevers, please bring more tea for the duchess,” the baroness commanded her butler. To Tess, she said more gently as she patted the brocade sofa cushion beside her, “Sit down, my dear.”

When the servant had gone, Lady Wingate said simply, “So you know about Richard.”

Tess nodded, feeling her eyes well up again. “I wish I had known four years ago,” she declared in a hoarse voice.

“He did not want to risk losing you.”

“So Rotham claimed. But I don’t understand why you kept the truth from me, my lady. It is not like you to coddle me.”

The baroness held her gaze steadily. “Like Rotham, I did not want you to be hurt, which would have been the case had you learned that Richard had feet of clay.”

That much was true, Tess reflected. Her initial disbelief had quickly turned to repugnance and dismay. Now she mostly felt a deep, aching sadness.

“At the time,” Lady Wingate continued, “it seemed best to let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak. I did not know about the affair until months afterward, when the girl realized she was with child and Rotham sought my advice about caring for her and her expected infant. By then you were already in love with Richard, and he swore by everything holy that he rued his sins. Then he entered the army and the duke was able to marry the girl off. I decided that no good purpose would be served by exposing Richard’s despicable behavior to the world. We had the family reputation to consider, you know.”

Tess shook her head dully. “I feel like such an ignorant fool. You knew all along, but never said a word in warning.”

Lady Wingate’s mouth pursed in a remorseful grimace. “At my age, I know a good deal about a lot of things, Tess—but I also know it is sometimes better to hold my tongue. Still, I am sorry to have distressed you so. Perhaps I was wrong.” The baroness sighed. “None of this would ever have happened if you had just chosen Rotham in the first place.”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked absently.

Just then, Cheevers returned with a second tray, and the ladies had to pause while he arranged the tea table. When they were alone again, Tess spoke. “What did you mean about my choosing Rotham in the first place?”

The baroness busied herself pouring a cup of tea for her guest, but she clearly grasped that Tess wouldn’t give up, for she sighed again in resignation. “I would have much preferred that you wed Rotham four years ago.” She gave a humorless smile of remembrance. “If you must know, I invited the duke to your debut ball and insisted he dance with you in hopes that you would take a liking to each other. By that time, Rotham had turned his life around enough that I considered him suitable material for marriage.”

Taken aback, Tess eyed her with bewilderment. “So you were attempting to play matchmaker? You wished me to marry Rotham, of all people?”

“You needn’t look so shocked. You are my goddaughter. It is my duty to look after you and to act in your best interests. But to my regret, Richard engaged your affections first. And when Rotham saw your decided preference, he withdrew from the lists for your hand without even putting the question to a test. I suppose it was the honorable thing to do, but it was excessively disappointing to me. Richard was a charming boy, but Rotham was a man. Unlike my dearly departed husband,” the baroness added tartly. “Wingate was such a weakling, I could run circles around him.”

Her ladyship shrugged then, as if dismissing her unpleasant memories of her late spouse. “I thought you needed much more of a challenge in your marriage, Tess. And I confess, I have always had a soft spot for rakes. I hoped you could be Rotham’s salvation—or at least aid his reformation process. And that is just what happened, even though it took a good while longer than I expected.”

Tess stared at her in puzzlement. “What in heaven’s name are you talking about, my lady? What reformation?”

The elder lady’s expression turned softer. “How much do you know about Rotham’s boyhood, Tess?”

“As much as most, I imagine. His mother died in childbed, and he did not get along well with his father.”

“That is a vast understatement,” Lady Wingate declared curtly. “Did you know that Rotham faced financial ruin when he inherited the title?”

Tess continued to stare. “No, I did not.”

“Well, it is true, I assure you. His father had depleted the entire family fortune on lavish extravagances and then compounded the crisis by losing outrageous sums at a notorious gaming hell.”

“Like father, like son,” Tess murmured.

Lady Wingate’s chin rose sharply in disagreement. “Indeed, there was an immense difference. The younger Rotham gambled to stave off destitution. When his father died, Ian was saddled with crippling debts of honor, and he had to fight tooth and nail just to save Bellacourt. Since the main property was entailed, it could not be used to raise capital. His only other choice was to sell all the surrounding lands and furnishings, leaving his ancestral home no more than a shell. An ignominious fate he refused to allow.”

Tess remained mute, trying to absorb her godmother’s vigorous defense of Ian.

“I am not saying he did not deserve his wicked reputation,” Lady Wingate temporized. “Yes, he led a life of dissipation and excess in his youth. But I believe much of his rebellion stemmed from his animosity toward his father. Once Rotham inherited the title, all that changed. It was only to repair the dukedom’s dire fiscal situation that he turned to gaming. And thankfully, he had the Devil’s own luck at the card tables. Then he built an empire with his winnings, employing a remarkable business savvy that clearly was not inherited on his father’s side. His detractors say he was ruthless in his ventures, but I expect that was merely sour grapes and envy.”

Pausing for breath, the baroness sniffed with a measure of her usual hauteur. “I confess, I did not approve of Rotham’s methods. It is ungentlemanly to engage in commerce. But he never cared much about society’s good opinion. It is his biggest failing, if you ask me.”

Tess’s thoughts were still on Ian’s past struggles, however, rather than his rebel tendencies. “I never realized,” she said quietly. Ian had kept even more secrets from her than Richard had.

At Tess’s response, Lady Wingate came down from her high horse and softened her expression. “Rotham is not one to air his dirty linen in public, so you could not be expected to know. But I sincerely believe he has changed his sinful ways. To my knowledge, he has given up gaming, at least. And to the extent that he has become concerned about his reputation, I credit you, Tess.”

“Me?”