Beloved (34 page)

Ella ducked her head to hide a blush too brilliant to blame on any wind.

“I am not,” the countess repeated. “What I have told you is true. We are friends. And because we are, I want to be your friend.
I want to help you and Saber. But first, I must find a way to make you like me.”

“One cannot
make
a person like one,” Ella said, slowing down. She looked directly at the countess. “It is common knowledge that you and Saber
are more than
friends
.”

“It is common
gossip
that we are more than friends. And that gossip is a lie. If you will allow me, I will explain exactly how my acquaintance
with Saber began. Then I think you will understand.”

Ella took deep breaths and willed her heart to cease its hammering.

“We met in India. After he returned for a second visit.”

“I already knew you met there.”

“I was in terrible trouble. I had been duped into giving myself to a man who…He misused me terribly.”

“I’m sorry,” Ella murmured, casting a sympathetic glance at her companion.

The countess pulled up her mount.

Ella also stopped. She turned her gray around and trotted back to the other woman, who guided the chestnut she rode from the
trail and into a patch of shade beyond the sweeping skirt of a willow tree.

The countess’s groom stationed himself dutifully, just out of hearing distance.

“Are you feeling unwell?” Ella asked.

“I’m…I was never married,” the other woman said, drawing in her lips. “I went through a wedding ceremony with Count Perruche,
but we were not married.”

Bewildered, Ella could think of no reply.

“You don’t understand, do you?” the countess said bitterly. “We were not married because he was already married. He was a
bigamist. He wanted me and knew I would not be his unless he married me.”

“How dreadful,” Ella whispered, alarmed at the countess’s pallor. “Please do not feel you must continue.”

“I want to!” The other woman glared at Ella. “You have judged me a bad woman for something I have not done. The
ton
judges me for the same invalid reason. The world would judge me a bad woman for something I did without knowing it.”

“Do not overset yourself.”

“Saber helped me. The count married me in Austria and took me back to India—where he had
another
wife to whom he was really married. I was to live in the same house with that poor woman and tolerate such behavior because
if I revealed the truth, I would be cast out of polite society.”

Ella was overcome with distress. “The count broke the law,” she said indistinctly. “He could have been prosecuted.”

“That would not alter the fact that I was a ruined woman in the eyes of all Europe. I had no choice but to be treated like
a servant by that desperate, spurned woman and like a …And used by a man I had come to hate.”

“Countess—”

“I had no money and nowhere to turn. Saber was invited to dine with the Perruches and, quite by chance, I encountered him
on his own. He was still not at all well—just as he is not yet entirely well—and had gone to find solitude in the grounds
of the house.

“I felt his goodness and I cast myself upon his mercy. He went to the count and told him he intended to pay for me to come
to England. When the count protested, Saber warned him that unless he let me go, he would be unmasked as the villain he is.”

Ella saw tears in the other’s eyes and reached impulsively to touch her arm. “How very like Saber. He was very kind to me
when I was a girl.”

“As you say. How like Saber.” Bitterness didn’t become the countess. “Will you try to accept that I’ve told you the truth?
It has cost me dearly. I am a woman without station, except a false one as the widow of a man to whom I was never married.”

“You are a brave woman,” Ella said staunchly. “Brave and dignified. Countess—”

“No. Margot, please.” She found a small handkerchief and reached beneath her veil to blot at tears. “My name is Margot. Saber
said I should continue to use that man’s title to provide myself with some protection. Perruche will never dare to show his
face here or on the Continent again, but I should like you to call me Margot.”

Ella said, “Margot.”

“And in case you think that my tragedy means I am more than Saber’s indebted friend, I assure you that he is above taking
advantage of such a debt. Also, much as I love Saber—as a friend—I would not ever wish to taint that friendly love with any
other sort of liaison.”

“No,” Ella said. She believed her. “How do you live?”

“Not by Saber’s generosity,” Margot said, raising her chin. “Once I returned to Europe I contacted my father, who is glad
to pay to keep me away from France. The money is mine anyway, from an inheritance made me by my mother. Papa lives in fear
that I will return and shame him.”

“I have known great unhappiness,” Ella said simply. “I can feel yours. I can only pray that you will eventually find the joy
you deserve.”

Margot smiled. Sunlight caught the glitter of tears in her thick, coppery eyelashes. “I am happy enough as I am. I have Saber
and Devlin as friends. And now, I think, I have you. Am I correct?”

“Most certainly,” Ella said, almost overcome with empathy and relief. “And I know my family will also be glad to welcome you.”

“Do not be too sure.” Margot’s smile was wry. “We must pursue these changes slowly. Isn’t that the man Saber has spoken of?
Over there?”

Ella turned about and searched among the riders coming and going on the Row.

“Where?”

“On the bay. On the opposite side. He’s looking at us. At you, I should say. He was at the Eagletons’ that night.”

Even as Margot spoke, Ella spied the Hon. Pom. Even at a distance she could not fail to feel his singular concentration upon
her.

Pomeroy Wokingham spurred his horse to a trot and crossed the Row, incurring more than one oath from riders whose paths he
entered.

“Good morning, lovely ladies,” he called as he drew near.

Margot nodded.

Ella looked away.

“All alone? What’s the world comin’ to?”

“We’re not alone,” Margot said. “My groom accompanies us, Mr. er—”

“Pomeroy, Pomeroy,” the Hon. Pom said, all too heartily, sweeping off his hat to reveal the sparse sand-colored hair he wore
combed slickly over his shiny scalp. “Pomeroy to my friends, and certainly Ella regards me as a friend, don’t y’ know. How
are we today, Ella?”

“I’m well, Mr. Wokingham,” she said, wishing herself far away. “The countess is also well, I believe. As to you, well, I’m
sure you know your own condition.”

His left eye twitched. The stiffness of his smile suggested he retained it with difficulty. “I am also well, thank you,” he
said. “Nice of you to be concerned.”

“We’d best get on,” Margot said, making to return to the trail.

“Actually, I came down to look for Miss Rossmara,” Pomeroy said, his tone becoming formal. “I called at Pall Mall and was
told I might find her here.”

Ella’s stomach turned over, then repeated the process.

“A fine day for a ride, I thought. I’d intended to invite you to join me, Miss Rossmara.”

“I already have company for the ride,” Ella pointed out.

Pomeroy spared Margot a sweeping stare that took her in from head to toe and lingered at points in between. “Yes, well, no
doubt the countess will understand if I take you away from her. Surprisin’ that your family would permit you to be in the
company of…Well, surprisin’, that’s all. You wouldn’t understand, Miss Rossmara, but I’m sure the countess fully comprehends
my meanin’.”

“What are you suggesting?” Margot asked. She circled Pomeroy, causing him to turn in order to keep her in his sights.

He smiled, his thin lips drawing away from stained teeth. “No need to go into that here, madam. Ella and I have business to
conduct. I’m sure you’ll excuse us.”

“And allow you to ride with a lady unchaperoned?” Margot said. “I hardly think that appropriate.”

Ella could not seem to think at all. Her mind spun. He had gone to Pall Mall and been told he’d find her here? Who would tell
him? Who would give him permission to follow her here?

“Come along my dear,” he persisted, ignoring Margot. “No fault will be found with our keeping company in so public a setting.
And there are things we must discuss. In private.” He looked significantly at Margot.

Ella finally found her voice. “Countess Perruche and I are enjoying each other’s company. Let us get on, Margot.” She led
the way back onto the Row.

Pomeroy contrived to bring his horse in front of hers. He narrowed his colorless eyes. “You would do well to do as you are
told,” he said, taking her breath away with his audacity. “I have already said that I come with blessings from Pall Mall.”

“Pay him no heed,” Margot said, but Ella noted that the other woman’s voice trembled.

“There are incidents I’d like to help you recall,” Pomeroy said to Ella. “Not that I imagine you can have forgotten them.
Much as you might like to think you have.”

Ella wound her reins tightly about her hands.

“But we shall speak of that soon enough. Good day to you, countess.”

Incidents?
Incidents she might like to think she’d forgotten? Ella envisioned scraps of red chiffon—and a letter filled with foul implications.

Pomeroy Wokingham?

“Come, Ella,” he said, looking down his very long nose. “We have a great deal to talk about.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” she told him, breathless. “Good day to you, Mr. Wokingham.”

The corners of his mouth jerked down. The Adam’s apple in his thin neck bobbled. “Do as you are told.” His voice had the quality
of a gust through gravel. “You are in no position to be high and mighty, miss. It’s time you accepted that. Any woman would
be grateful for my attention.
You
should be overwhelmed at your good fortune.”

Margot made a strangled sound.

“Must I speak of your shortcomings in front of others?”

“Go away,” Ella said.

Rather than obey her wishes, Pomeroy put his horse between Ella and Margot’s and said, “We’ll be on our way.
Now
. I’m bloody tired of being told what to do and when to do it. Time a fella took matters into his own hands.” He reached for
Ella’s reins.

“Hold up there, Ella!” a man’s voice shouted. “Ella!”

A second voice called, “Ella and Margot!”

Ella looked over her shoulder and saw two men approaching at a gallop. One, mounted on a black, was unmistakably Saber, and
her heart pushed toward her throat. She sucked in great gulps of air.

“If you know what’s good for you, Mr. Wokingham,” Margot said quietly, “you’ll take yourself off. With all haste.”

“The devil I will,” Pomeroy said. His nostrils pinched and his lips turned white. “I’ve more right to be here than any other
I see.”

The second man raised a hand and Ella recognized Calum, Duke of Franchot, her mama’s brother. Hatless, he had hair the same
dark red as Lady Justine’s, and eyes of a similar shade of amber smiled his pleasure at seeing Ella.

“If they discover you are pestering us,” Margot said to Pomeroy, “this will not be pretty.”

“Tell them you are otherwise engaged,” Pomeroy said.

Ella gazed at him and knew a moment of the purest disgust she had ever felt. The man was a reckless oaf. “A reckless
oaf
,” she told him. “Do you hear me? You are a reckless oaf who doesn’t know he is about to be run off by two of the most powerful
men in the kingdom.”

“A sight I’d rather not witness,” Margot muttered. “Blood sports have no place in Hyde Park.”

The possibility of an unpleasant scene dawned on Ella the moment before Saber and Uncle Calum would have arrived. She glanced
nervously from Pomeroy to the other two men.

Then Pomeroy’s wild shout captured the attention of all in sight.

“Damn you!” he yelled, all but losing his seat. The bay had reared. One of Pomeroy’s feet shot from its stirrup and the bay
surged forward.

“Oh, my goodness,” Ella said, quieting her own restless animal. “I called him a reckless oaf, but I had no idea…”

Calum pulled up at her left. Saber walked his black to the right of the gray.

Pomeroy’s bay bucked once more and took off at a furious gallop. The instant before the pair rode around the bend and out
of sight, the rider wrapped his arms around the animal’s neck. Anguished curses floated on the pristine spring air.

“Did you indeed, young Ella?” Uncle Calum said.

She looked questioningly into his lean, exceedingly handsome face.

“Did you tell that bounder he’s a reckless oaf?”

“Well, yes.” She shrugged.

“Good,” Uncle Calum said. “Our beloved Blanche confessed he’d been sniffing around Pall Mall, asking where you were. Said
she’d told him you’d come here. Saber’s been filling me in on the Hon. Pom. I remember his father.”

“I’d rather forget both of them,” Ella said.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t break his unpleasant neck,” Calum said. “Can’t imagine why his horse took off like that.”

“No,” Margot said. She studied the point of the pearl stick-pin that had formerly secured her satin stock. “I think it was
the rider’s fault. He jumped and shouted so. Upset his mount evidently. I do believe a bee may have stung Pom’s…Well, stung
him in a rather vulnerable spot.”