Six
As he left the room, Philip was no more ashamed and bewildered than Bella.
Scrubbing an angry hand over her throbbing lips, she sought to banish the searing heat that had flooded to the very tips of her toes. She had been beyond foolish. It did not matter that she had been caught off guard. Or that Lord Brasleigh was obviously a master of seduction. He had pressed his lips to hers, and she had melted like the most susceptible schoolgirl.
Why? Why did this gentleman possess the ability to make her blood rush and her stomach quiver?
Could it be that she was so shallow she could be vulnerable to a handsome face and practiced skill, no matter how contemptible their motives?
With a shudder of revulsion, Bella leaned against her dressing stand; then, as another wave of selfloathing coursed through her, she grasped a tiny figurine and hurled it across the room. Although she would no doubt later regret her impulsive action, for the moment she thoroughly enjoyed the sound of shattering glass. It somehow echoed the feeling of her own shattered belief in passion and love.
How innocent she had been to presume that passion could only be inspired when love was present. She had never realized the power of a man’s touch or her own unruly response to a practiced kiss.
Fool. Fool. Fool.
On the point of tossing yet another figurine, Bella was halted as the door opened and a maid nervously entered the chambers. The young servant’s eyes widened at the sight of the broken glass. “Oh.”
With an effort, Bella drew herself upright, although there was nothing she could do about the high color still staining her cheeks. “Hello, Mary.”
“What has occurred?”
“What has occurred? Men, that’s what has occurred,” Bella seethed out loud.
Mary gave a startled blink. “Men?”
“Who else could infuriate a reasonable woman? They are all overbearing, selfish boors, and I assure you the world would be a better place without them.”
The maid was clearly shocked. No doubt, she had been properly trained to believe there was nothing more sacred than capturing and pleasing a husband. She appeared deeply distressed by such a lack of respect.
“Oh, you cannot mean that, ma’am.”
“I assure you that I do,” Bella snapped, placing all her current troubles and woes directly onto Lord Brasleigh’s shoulders. If the impossible man had remained in London where he belonged, she would have been perfectly happy and secure.
“But surely . . .” Mary stammered to an uncomfortable halt.
“What?”
“Well, surely every lady desires a gentleman to love and protect her?”
Bella gave a loud snort. “You mean a gentleman to order her about and control her life without regard to her own feelings?”
Mary gave a small shake of her head, obviously not as intimately acquainted with the treachery of men as Bella. “Gentlemen were meant to care for women.”
“Fah.” Bella thought of her own father’s disregard and then Lord Brasleigh’s determination to rid himself of her. “I am perfectly capable of caring for myself, and I have no desire to be bothered by the demands of a supposed gentleman.”
Mary heaved a wistful sigh. “I should like to have a husband someday.”
Bella resisted the urge to inform the gullible maid that a husband would no doubt only add to her burden of a life of servitude. Girls liked to dream of love, not of being commanded to cook and clean and raise the numerous children with as little trouble to the husband as possible.
Besides, however cynical she might feel at the moment, she could not entirely give up on love. Wasn’t that why she had fled rather than wed a complete stranger?
“Well, perhaps you shall be fortunate enough to discover a husband who does not treat you as part of his property,” she muttered. “But I should not hold out much hope.”
“You are simply upset, Mrs. Smith.” Mary sent her a soothing smile.
“Yes, I am,” Bella admitted with a rueful grimace. “And I have no right to take my ill humor out on you, Mary. Forgive me.”
Mary waved aside the apology. “It is nothing. I suppose you are angry with Lord Brasleigh?”
Bella froze. Had the maid seen the two of them together? “Why would you think that this has anything to do with Lord Brasleigh?”
“It is just that . . . Well, I have noticed the manner in which he watches you,” Mary hesitantly explained. “He cannot take his gaze from you when you enter the room.”
Bella’s expression hardened. Blast the devilish lord. Now he had even caused the servants to notice his unwelcome attentions. Soon she would be the source of gossip throughout the neighborhood. “I wish he would go away.”
“Oh, you should not say such a thing, miss. He is a fine gentleman. Always so polite and generous to the staff. Not at all like most London nobs.” A coy expression crossed the maid’s countenance. “And so handsome.”
“He is a . . .” Bella reluctantly bit back her condemning words. There was no use in fueling the maid’s avid curiosity about her relationship with Lord Brasleigh. “It is of no importance. Was there something that you needed, Mary?”
“Lady Stenhold has requested that you join her in the front drawing room.”
Bella heaved a sigh. She wanted nothing more than to lock herself in her rooms and brood for the remainder of the day. “Did she say why?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Very well,” Bella conceded, knowing it was impossible to hide forever. “Tell her I will join her in a moment.”
“Of course.” With a bob, the maid left the room.
Bella lifted shaking hands to make sure her curls were still safely tucked atop her head. There was little use in postponing the inevitable, she decided. Although Lady Stenhold was far from demanding, she was tenacious. With a regretful glance around the sweetly silent room, she turned to make her way into the hall and then to the sweeping staircase. On the last stair, she prepared to turn toward the front drawing room when the sound of approaching footsteps had her cowardly darting behind a large potted plant. A familiar tingle warned her who was approaching. Peeking through the branches, she was not surprised to spot Lord Brasleigh abruptly appearing from a side door and heading directly into the library.
At his entrance, Bella could see Lord Blackmar abruptly rising to his feet. “Good lord, Bras, what has occurred?”
Knowing she should slip away before she was discovered, Bella was halted as Lord Brasleigh roughly growled, “My bloody ward. That’s what is the matter.”
* * *
“I believe this calls for a drink,” Lord Blackmar retorted, easily noting the dark expression marring Philip’s countenance.
Philip did not protest. He was beyond hiding his seething emotions. Not that he intended to reveal the cause for his current distemper, he acknowledged wryly. How did he confess that he longed to toss his ward onto the nearest bed and drown in her sweetness?
“Several drinks,” he rasped, accepting the proffered glass of brandy and downing it in one gulp.
“Here.” Pudding had wisely brought the bottle and swiftly refilled Philip’s glass. Then, tilting his head to one side, he regarded his friend with a narrowed gaze. “Would you like to share what has you in such a foul mood?”
Philip’s features twisted. “I am merely annoyed with the entire bloody mess. I should be in London enjoying myself, not acting like a fool in the midst of this godforsaken country.”
Pudding regarded him for a long moment before allowing a rather mysterious smile to curve his lips. “I had quite convinced myself you were enjoying your role as the debauched seducer.”
A flame of heat scorched Philip’s cheeks at the accusation. It was far too close for comfort. “What the deuce are you implying?” he demanded.
Pudding raised his hands in a vague motion. “Well, I have never seen you so enwrapped with a lady before—even those you actually intended to seduce. Certainly Miss Ravel never received such attentions.”
“Fah.” Philip refused to acknowledge that the beautiful actress had never captured his attention as Bella had. “I assure you, this all has been a game, nothing more.”
“A very enticing game, no doubt,” Pudding purred.
Philip rewarded his friend with a glare. “Pudding.”
The brilliantly attired gentleman gave a sudden laugh. “Well, even you have to admit that she is unreasonably beautiful.”
“She is also unreasonably stubborn, ill behaved, and without the least amount of common sense.”
Pudding raised his brows at Philip’s fierce tone. “You knew that before we came,” he pointed out with unshakable logic. “So what has you in such a twit?”
Philip abruptly banged his glass down onto a nearby bookshelf. “She should be terrified by now. Any young maiden with the least sensibilities would have realized how dangerous her position is and have fled to the safety of her guardian.”
“So why hasn’t she?”
Philip breathed out a harsh sigh. “She clearly believes she is capable of overcoming any situation.”
That mysterious smile returned to Pudding’s lips. “Perhaps she is.”
“You are determined to end up her groom,” he threatened.
“Not I.”
Philip shook his head. “I have all but ravished her, and still she refuses to accept the truth.”
“Clearly she feels being forced into marriage worse than being ravished.”
“Nonsense,” Philip denied, without allowing himself to give thought to Pudding’s accusation. “Every young maiden dreams of acquiring a husband. She is merely so determined to flaunt my authority, it has blinded her.”
“You two seem well matched.”
“What does that mean?”
Pudding slowly sipped his brandy, carefully noting the color that came and went in Philip’s thin face. “It seems that your own determination to force your will upon Miss Lowe has blinded you to all but your need to win.”
Philip stiffened at the accusation. “It is her father’s will, not mine. He entrusted her to my care. Do you suppose he would wish for me to allow her to become a mere servant?”
“No,” Pudding conceded, although that devious twinkle never left his eyes. “No doubt he would wish her to be properly wed.”
Philip unconsciously clenched his fists. The flare of distaste for handing her over to another only hardened his determination. The sooner he was free of Miss Bella Lowe the better. “And that is precisely what I intend to see occur.”
“What will you do?”
Philip frowned. “For the moment I will continue with my plan.”
“If it continues to fail?”
“I will tie her in a sack and drag her up the aisle,” Philip responded bluntly.
Pudding gave a sharp laugh. “That I should love to see. No doubt the groom would be quite flattered to have his bride arrive in such a fashion.”
Philip’s thoughts turned to Andre LeMont and then naturally to his dragon of a mother. His features twisted into a grimace. “It might frighten LeMont, but it would not disturb his mother. She would personally force Miss Lowe down the aisle if it ensured she would receive her settlement.” His lips twisted. “Although, I must admit that while I initially felt a measure of pity for Miss Lowe to be saddled with such a relative as Madam LeMont, I begin to suspect that she will have the harridan cowed within a month.”
Something in his tone had Pudding regarding him with a probing gaze. “Has something occurred that you are not sharing?”
Philip abruptly turned from that knowing gaze, uncomfortably aware that a guilty flush was staining his cheeks. “Nothing beyond the fact that I am anxious to return to London and Miss Ravel. She at least knows how to be with a gentleman without attempting to drive him to Bedlam.”
* * *
Still behind the potted plant, Bella struggled to keep her shaking knees holding her upright. The shock that had held her in silent disbelief for the past several moments was slowly boiling to a fury she had never before experienced.
He knew. He had known all along.
The . . . lout.
He had somehow managed to track her to Surrey, and rather than confront her like a decent gentleman, he had instead devised this loathsome ploy to frighten her into marriage. Her hand pressed to her trembling lips as she recalled his suggestive words, his lingering touches, and those searing kisses.
Heaven above, he had made such a fool of her. Such a bloody fool.
Why hadn’t she suspected? Why hadn’t she realized that his arrival in Surrey was far too coincidental for mere chance?
With an effort, she blinked back the tears of fury and humiliation.
It was too late to regret her blind stupidity. Now, she had to concentrate on what to do.
Every part of her quivered with the need to march into the library and slap Lord Brasleigh’s arrogant face. But the knowledge that she would be letting him off all too easily kept her behind the plant.
Once he realized that she was aware of his horrid trick, he would no doubt haul her to London and down the aisle just as he had threatened. He would not even feel a twinge of remorse at his reprehensible behavior. No, she would obviously have to flee once again. But first . . . First she intended to teach Lord Brasleigh a severe lesson in playing her for a fool.
Long moments passed as she brooded upon the best means of exacting her revenge. Various plots were considered and dismissed; then at last a notion so simple and yet so daring slowly bloomed in the depths of her mind.
What better means of punishment than to neatly turn the tables on him? He hoped to frighten her into submission with his blatant seduction. What if, instead, she pretended to fall madly in love with him? He would be the one who would appear the fool and hopefully spend a few sleepless nights. After that . . . Well, she would worry about fleeing after she had assured herself that Lord Brasleigh was properly punished.
Squaring her shoulders, she stepped from behind the plant, intending to mount the stairs and return to her chambers. She had completely dismissed the reason she had come downstairs in the first place. But she had barely taken two steps when Mary abruptly appeared. “Mrs. Smith, Lady Stenhold is still awaiting you in the drawing room.”
Bella swallowed a sigh of exasperation. Of course. How could she have forgotten poor Lady Stenhold? Her plan would have to wait for now. “Thank you, Mary.”
Doing her best to calm her tangled emotions, Bella made her way to the drawing room. Her efforts, however, were not wholly successful as Lady Stenhold watched her enter the crimson-and-gold room with raised brows. “Oh, Anna . . . Are you not well?”
Bella forced a stiff smile. “I am fine.”
“You appear flushed.”
She gave the first lie that came to mind. “I rather hurried down the stairs.”
Lady Stenhold leaned forward, clearly not convinced. “Are you sure it is nothing else?”
Bella suppressed a hysterical urge to laugh. What would the older woman say if she knew that Lord Brasleigh had come to Surrey to terrify his own ward into marriage? And that she was now prepared to pretend that she was in love with a gentleman that she detested above all others? No doubt she would have the lot of them tossed from her home.
“What do you mean?”
“Lord Brasleigh has not been troubling you?”
“No . . .” Bella gave a shake of her head, desperately hoping that Mary had not confided her suspicions to her mistress. At the moment, she wanted nothing interfering with her plans. “Not at all.”
“Are you certain?”
“Quite certain.”
There was a short pause. “Very well.”
“Did you wish to see me?” Bella hurried to change the subject.
“Yes. I was just thinking that as long as we have guests, we should offer some sort of entertainment.”
It was not at all what Bella had been expecting. “Oh?”
“I was thinking we might arrange a ball.”
Bella’s heart sank. The last thing she wished was to be surrounded by hundreds of guests. Especially when there was always the remote possibility she might be recognized. “Really?”
Lady Stenhold appeared taken aback by her decided lack of enthusiasm. “Does the idea not please you?”
A stab of guilt pierced Bella’s heart at the older woman’s barely hidden disappointment. “It is hardly my concern,” she murmured.
“Of course it is. You are a guest in this house,” Lady Stenhold insisted. “If the thought of frivolity is disturbing, then I will certainly not pursue the notion.”
“That is very kind, but I could not possibly intrude upon your entertainments,” Bella desperately urged. “I shall be quite happy to remain in my chambers during the ball.”
Lady Stenhold frowned. “Absurd.”
“But . . .”
“If you will not attend the ball, then I shall simply not arrange it.”
Bella gazed at the face that had become so dear to her, before slowly giving a wry shake of her head. The lady was an expert at getting her way with her gentle insistence. “Then I shall be happy to join you.”
Lady Stenhold beamed with satisfaction. “Excellent. I shall begin making the arrangements at once. Of course, I must warn you that it will be nothing elaborate. Just a few neighbors and friends.”
“I am certain it will be lovely.” Realizing that the older woman had accomplished what she wished, Bella prepared to make her escape. The upcoming ball would be a worry for another day. At the moment, she had more than enough troubles upon her plate. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a few matters to attend to.”