At first, Jonathan was too stunned to say anything. He’d expected her to say a man had hurt her and she did the awful things she did because of that. But he’d never thought she’d say that she was still married.

“Uh, um,” he muttered.

“Stunned, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he admitted. “When did this happen?”

“Ten years ago, when I was twenty-two.”

Jonathan’s stomach roiled. “How could you keep something like this secret?”

“It was simple, really. My husband and my sister started an affair soon after we married. When I discovered it he laughed in my face, said there was nothing I could do to stop him, and that my sister was a far better lover than I was.”

“Belinda, I’m sorr…”

“Don’t.” She sat up and wiped her cheeks. Her eyes were red and he felt like he’d just pulled a secret out of her that would end the world. “I don’t want your pity. Strauss told me that he’d offered for my sister, but my father had refused, because she was younger than me. So he changed his offer. He used me to stay close to her. Things changed when my father found out what was happening. He demanded that Strauss break off the affair. Strauss refused.”

“And then?”

“Then, my father came up with a solution. He paid Strauss a great deal of money to pretend to be dead and move to Paris. He receives an exorbitant amount of funds each year to play dead. I suppose when my father passes, he’ll come back to London with my sister and their children and everyone will find out the truth.” She turned her face away from him for a moment, and then turned back. “Years ago, I received legal papers in the post. They were in French, and I have no idea what they said, so I paid a girl at the university to translate them for me. They were divorce papers. He’d claimed I’d abandoned him, and my sister, or I assume it was my sister, forged my signature. I’m sure they’re legally married now.”

Jonathan sat forward, his hands clasped together over his knees.

“Why has your father…”

“Put up with me? Quite simple, really. I’m an embarrassment to him, true. But an even bigger embarrassment would be if society found out his son-in-law had an affair with his other daughter. I have no idea if he knows about the divorce. He cut all ties with me after Strauss and Gloria left. He blamed the entire mess on me; said I didn’t know how to keep a husband.”

“He and my mother live quietly in Avon, where I’m sure news of my antics reaches him from time to time.”

“You receive no funds from him?”

Belinda’s laugh filled the room.

“Certainly not! I was the villain, you see. I hadn’t even wanted to marry Strauss, but my father said it was a good match. He was the last of a long line, his entire family dead. When he died, I would inherit everything. The blackheart left me with debts, though, and I had to sell his country home to cover them. Soon after, I took my first lover.”

“To get back at him, and at your father?”

“No, Jonathan, to protect myself. I had no money, no hopes of finding a good marriage because my father wouldn’t offer anything to a prospective husband, and no one who cared about me. I chose the Duke of Illkey carefully. I seduced him, and used some of the more graphic details my sister had told me of her affair with my husband to keep him happy in bed. He showered me with gifts, which I sold, and then hoarded away the money.”

“Your sister told you about her affair with your husband?” That shocked Jonathan more than the fact that Belinda was first a widow, and now a divorcee.

“More like threw it into my face,” Belinda said. “She reveled in the fact that she was sleeping with my husband. She always hated me, said I was a bitch. I wanted to strangle her, but I was afraid of going to the gallows. Plus, threats from my father kept me in line, until they were in Paris. Then my father didn’t give a damn about me.”

“This reads like something Mrs. Radcliff would write,” he said.

“I wish,” she said. “If it were fiction I would be thrilled. But it’s all too real to me.”

He could see that, and he felt her pain. How would he respond, he wondered, if one of his brothers wanted to sleep with his wife? If he had a wife? He would probably find a pistol and shoot him. How had she put up with this all these years, ten years to be exact? And how had she survived? That question was easy though to answer, even if it did hurt.

“Is this how you explain your behavior?” Of course it was, but he wanted her say the words.

“It’s quite simple. It’s easier to be a bitch, and give people a reason to hate you, then to just think they hate you because you’re you.”

Her voice was devoid of emotion, and Jonathan felt his heart swell. Even from where he sat he could see tears threaten to spill over again. He stood and walked toward the bed. When he reached out and stroked her hair she didn’t push him away.

“I am sorry, whether you want to hear it or not.”

She leaned her face into his caress and he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a tear.

“I suppose you’ll tell everyone.”

“No, Belinda, I won’t.”

“Not even your friends? You are an abnormally close lot.”

Jonathan laughed. “We are indeed.”

He knelt down beside the bed. “Would you like to change your behavior, to change the way people see you?”

“Of course I would, but it’s too late now. Besides, one day Strauss will return and it will all be out in the open. Then, I can use the money I’ve stashed away to move somewhere else.”

“Or we could force him out now.” An idea formed in his mind, one that she probably wouldn’t really want to hear, but one that he thought would be perfect for her, one that would help her get over the pain from the past.

“What? Why on earth would we do that?”

Jonathan smiled at her and gently stroked her thigh.

“Because, Lady Brat, you are not the villain in this, he is. You’ve been punished for something you didn’t do, and I dare say that it’s time for some retribution in your favor.”

“I don’t think I quite understand what you’re proposing.”

Was it his imagination or was there hope in her voice? Would she listen to what he had to say? Would she think he was on her side, or would she reject him altogether? He sat down next to her and gathered her hands in his.

“We force him to come back to life. Then, we let everyone know what really happened. Think of it the way it is now, Belinda. He has everything, a wife, children, money. You, on the other hand, have been forced to fend for yourself and offer your body to men to get by. I hate to see him get away with that. It makes my blood boil.”

“I’ll be a laughing stock.”

“Some people may laugh, but you’ll be the ultimate winner, I promise. Once the truth is out he will undoubtedly stop receiving funds from your father. His cushy life will be at an end. And, Lady Brat, I promise that I will stay by your side through the whole affair.”

The look on her face said she didn’t quite believe him. “You promise?”

Jonathan nodded, a smile spreading over his face.

“But how will you resurrect him?”

“My friends and I are resourceful. You leave it to me. I’ll have a bath sent up, we’ll eat dinner and then we’ll leave for London in the morning.”

He started for the door and stopped when she called his name.

“Does this mean my spankings are over?”

“For now. I can’t promise that you won’t need one in the future, however.” He winked and left the room.

In the hallway he leaned against the wall. She could be lying, but he doubted it. No one would make up a story that horrible. He ordered a bath for the room and then went downstairs to write to Ellington and Essex to begin an investigation into the matter.

Strauss sounded like a cad. His wife had paid for his behavior for years, and now it was time for the man to get his comeuppance.

Belinda sunk into the hot water and wondered if she should pinch herself. There was no way Jonathan and his friends would be able to make Strauss pay for his misdeeds. The fact that Jonathan hadn’t laughed at her, and then told her she deserved what had happened because she was such a bitch, was unbelievable to her.

What did that say about him? It said quite a bit about his character, and his desire to see the good in people. No one had ever seen the good in her, including her parents. She’d always thought that it was because there was no good in her. But now she wondered if maybe, just maybe, there might be.

But she knew the idea didn’t hold water. If she had good in her she wouldn’t have been such a bitch all her life.

She soaped up and got out of the tub, drying herself off and putting on a silky wrapper that Merry had managed to put into her bag. Dinner was not until seven, which meant she had a little bit of time for a lie down.

She’d just settled her head on the pillow when Barton came into the room. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he was there for payment, but she kept the thought to herself.

He laid down next to her, but he didn’t touch her. She supposed that should have surprised her but it didn’t. He was unlike any man she had ever known, and it occurred to her that if, by some strange twist of fate, she had met him before she’d ruined her name things would be different for her.

“I’ve been downstairs enjoying some scotch, and I think I might have come up with a plan.”

“What sort of plan?” she asked.

“One that will draw out your ex-husband and will show people that you’re not entirely to blame for what has happened.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

He stroked her arm through the sleeve of her robe. “Because of what I did, I think. While I don’t like what you became because of what your husband, and to some extent your father, did to you, I don’t want to see you punished for it anymore.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You won’t be able to be bitchy anymore,” he said, and then he chuckled.

“But that’s my whole life.” She laughed, and when he put his arms around her she snuggled against his chest. “Remember when I said you would never touch me?”

“I do,” he said. “And I told you that I would never force myself upon you.”

“You won’t have to,” she said. She brought her head up so that she could look him in the eyes. “You can take me now.”

“No.”

That one simple word was like a punch to the stomach. She tried to pull away but he held her close.

“You misunderstand my reticence,” he said. “I want you, very much. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to have sex with me because I am helping you. I want you to have sex with me because you want to.”

“But I do want it,” she said.

“You’re very vulnerable right now,” he said. “It will be best if we wait.”

She felt tears well in her eyes and she tried to turn away. But Jonathan put his hand on her chin and turned her back so they were face to face.

“This is not a rejection,” he said.

“It feels like it,” she said.

He nodded, and then he kissed her, pressing his tongue against her mouth. She opened willingly and moaned as he deepened the kiss.

When it broke he said, “I want you to answer a question. If we had sex, right now, how would that make you feel?”

“Excited,” she said.

“During the sex, yes.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I would feel the same way. But what about after? Would you hate me after? Would you think I was using you the way all men have used you?”

“No,” she said. But then she sighed and pushed away from him. “Yes.”

“Give it a day or two, and if you still want to have sex with me, then I will tumble you into bed so fast you’ll think the room is spinning.”

He kissed her again, and then held her close.

“You’re too good to be true,” she said.

“For now.” He squeezed her and said, “You may feel different later. Now, we’ll eat dinner and then sleep. Tomorrow we head back to London where I put my plan into motion.”

“Do you want to tell me about this plan?” she asked.

“Let’s just say it involves Alice’s ability to connect with the dead, and Gabby’s newspaper.” He kissed the tip of her nose again. “Oh, and you get to be a bitch for a few more days. Do you think you can handle it?”

“I think I have quite a bit of experience in that area.”

“But you have to do as I direct, or this might not work.”

“I will do exactly as you say,” she said.

“That will be a first.” He released her and jumped up from the bed. “Now, get dressed so we can eat. I’m starved. I’ll have the maids pack up our bags tonight because I want to leave first thing in the morning so we can be back in London tomorrow afternoon. I want to get this over as soon as possible.”

So did she. Even given a few days she was sure she would want Barton in her bed, as quickly as could be arranged.

Everyone was already at White’s when Jonathan arrived the next evening. He and Belinda had traveled long and hard that day. After he’d settled Belinda into her house he’d gone home, bathed, and taken a short nap, hoping the sleep would make him feel like he was at the top of his game.

Belinda had wanted to have sex after dinner last night, but he’d again told her that wouldn’t be possible. Well, his mind said no, but his prick said yes. He’d wanted to fuck her until neither of them were able to breathe again.

When he’d told her that he probably wouldn’t see her for two more days, she’d been very upset. “Just one day, really,” he’d said. “Just tomorrow. We need time for the first newspaper article to come out, and cause a stir. Then we will go out in public and see how things go.”

She had tried to object, but he’d held up a finger. “You will go out with Charlotte and the ladies first. If things go right the other ladies in the teashop will be gossiping about you, and we can set the second part of the plan in motion.”

Belinda had tried to question him, but he’d told her she had to follow his orders, as she’d said she would do. “It has to go exactly as I planned it.”

So she was at home now, and he was at the club, where a footman, without being told, set down a glass of scotch in front him.

He took a hefty swallow before he said, “Well? I gave you time to find the information I asked for. Did you do it? Will it be useful?”

Buxton pulled papers out of a leather case.

“One Victor Bingham, Lord Strauss, declared dead ten years ago after a body was pulled from the Thames. However, an older man who works at the morgue told me yesterday that he’s almost certain that Lord Strauss was present when Belinda’s father, Lord Lucas, identified the body. I received a message from Paris this morning. Victor Lucas and his wife, Gloria, live in Paris. They have no children, though. I’m sure they made that part of their scheme up to get more money out of Belinda’s father.”

“That’s despicable,” Ellington said. “Not only did they ruin Belinda’s life, they used fake children to blackmail her father. That really stinks to high heaven.”

“I agree,” Jonathan replied. “It makes me sick to my stomach. Belinda has harbored this secret for years, with no one to turn to. Shameful, on her husband, and her father’s parts. I’d like to see them both bullwhipped.”

“That is rather harsh,” Buxton said. “Rather than physical pain, I think it would be best to take all their money, or as much of it as possible, and, of course, to ruin them in the eyes of society.”

“Her father lives in the country and could give a damn about society,” Ellington said. “Or so I would think.”

“On the contrary, he has gone to great lengths to keep the whole situation under wraps,” Jonathan said. “It has cost him money, a great deal of it, I’m sure. He is in good standing in the village where he lives. If this comes out he will be the laughing stock. That’s what I want to happen. That is what needs to happen. Belinda has had no one to confide in to help her get to the bottom of this situation.”

“She has you now,” Andrew said with a wicked grin. “You seem quite upset by the whole thing.”

“I am,” Jonathan said. “You should have seen her. This whole affair is what started her ‘new’ life. If it hadn’t happened, she wouldn’t be the witch that she is. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, expecting someone to know that she wasn’t the widow she claimed to be.”

“Not a good way to live,” Essex said. “Charlotte is quite taken with her. She thinks she has a heart of gold, buried under all the anger.”

“I don’t know about that, but she wants to be able to trust people, I can tell you that,” Jonathan said.

“Did you bed her?” McIntyre took a sip of his drink.

Jonathan slowly turned his head toward his friend. The question had totally come out of the blue. He shouldn’t be surprised by it, because he knew his friends would want to know.

“I cannot believe you just asked me that question. Certainly not. That would make me as big a cad as her husband.” He held up a finger. “And before you ask, I did not tell her about the Club, either. I trust her, but that information needs to be kept quiet for a while.”

“Yet your feelings are this strong? Interesting.” McIntyre relaxed against the seat and smiled. Jonathan recognized it as a smile that said McIntyre knew Jonathan had feelings for Belinda.

Jonathan shook his head. He himself had wondered what he was feeling. Was he so transparent that his friends also wondered? When he’d woken up that morning with Belinda cradled in his arms he’d fought the desire to make love to her. She would look on it as pity, and he didn’t want that. What he did want, he wasn’t exactly sure of. He just knew that he was feeling something, and it was a very, very strong emotion.

“What happens now?” Essex asked.

“Simple,” Jonathan replied. “When we get a report on where her ex-husband is, we hire someone who resembles him.”

“That someone checks into a hotel and starts running up bills around town,” Essex said.

“And the bills are sent to Lord Lucas,” Ellington continued.

“Who immediately contacts his son-in-law to see why he has broken their bargain,” Andrew said.

“Strauss comes back to London to investigate, and we expose him for the maggot that he is,” Jonathan concluded. “Any questions?”

“I love it,” McIntyre said. “We have to make sure that he doesn’t send someone in his stead. He has to come here. I think that can be arranged with a visit from a thug or two, demanding payments on debts.”

“Even more excellent,” Jonathan said. “We’ll instruct them to blacken at least one of his eyes. And, of course, there is the newspaper article. Gabby will write one that talks about the fact that people are starting to question the fact that Strauss is truly dead, that he faked his death to get away from debts.”

“And Alice, my sweet Alice, will host a séance where she will try and contact him,” Buxton said. “I explained the scheme to her last night and she is quite taken with the idea of playing the medium again.”

The group broke into laughter and Jonathan stared at them.

“What?”

“I believe the emotion you were searching for earlier, Jonathan, is love. You love her. Admit it.” Ellington lifted his glass toward his friend.

“I hardly know her.” The words sounded empty, and Jonathan knew it.

“Still, I foresee a wedding in the future,” Buxton said. He put his fingers to his temples as if he were trying to see the future. “Lady Strauss will become Lady Barton, and we’ll have a new member of the Rakes of Mayfair. Something tells me she’ll fit right in.”

“Marrying a divorcee,” Essex said with a laugh. “You’re a wicked man, Barton.”

“You all are putting the cart before the horse, as my father would say.” Seconds later, Jonathan joined his friends in laughter as he realized he’d not squashed the idea of a marriage. “She’s almost five years older than I am. She and I have not talked about marriage, and I would appreciate it if, as my friends, you would not plan my life for me.”

“Who cares if she’s older than you?” Andrew replied. “Your marriage will be the talk of London, especially after the scheme we just went over plays out. It will be interesting to see how society reacts to this story.”

There was a pause before Essex said, “Barton, what will you do if they reject her?”

“I will stand by her,” Jonathan said. “I will not be another person who throws her aside.”

As the words left his mouth his heart beat a little faster. The truth of the matter must have shown on his face, because Andrew leaned over and patted him on the shoulder.

“Love hits you when you least expect it,” he said. “It is hard to come to terms with it at first, but you will learn that it is the best thing that has happened to you.”

Jonathan wasn’t sure what to say, so he stayed silent. Ellington raised his glass. “A toast to the last single member of our Club, who will not be single for long, I think.”

“Here, here,” they all said, except Jonathan, who downed the remainder of his scotch in one swig. He had lamented the fact that he hadn’t found a woman to love, and now one had fallen into his lap when he’d least expected it to happen.