Desperate Measures (Regency Undone) (8 page)

BOOK: Desperate Measures (Regency Undone)
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CHAPTER EIGHT

 

‘Grand-Mama, we are here.’

The sound of children squealing in the hall and the clatter of footsteps marked the arrival of Guy
’s sister and her family.


Now our peace and quiet is over,’ the Duchess said with a smile, rising to her feet.

And indeed it was.  Claudia seemed scarce to take time for breath as she regaled events that had occurred since last they
’d visited, recounting numerous stories about the children and her husband until Isabelle felt she knew them all quite intimately. 

After lunch, the Dowager, saying that she needed some time for a little solitude, suggested they take the children for a brisk walk in the grounds. 
‘It will tire them out for bed so that they sleep more easily in a different house,’ she said.


Do you not think it a little cold?’ Claudia’s husband, Lionel, remarked dubiously.


Not at all.  It is bracing that is all.  It will do you good to get some fresh air.’

And so it was they were all now wrapped in warm cloaks and being given a tour of the grounds by Guy and his sister.  After several minutes it seemed to happen naturally that Guy and Lionel should drop behind, bent on talking Estate matters and manly interests, whilst Isabelle and Claudia moved more quickly in front.  

‘So tell me, how are you finding my formidable brother, Isabelle?  Is he a ferocious husband?  I swear he scares the life out of me and I have known him all my life!’


Not at all,’ Isabelle replied primly.  ‘Indeed he is always most accommodating.’


You do not look to me to be someone who is easily intimidated I have to say, and that is good.  My brother would easily make minced meat of you if you were.’  


Then as you say, it is a good thing my skin is thick.  But do you not think you are being a little harsh?  Guy has shown me nothing but consideration since our wedding, and although he has not the most ebullient of natures-’

Claudia burst out laughing. 
‘That I think must count as the understatement of the year, sister. Guy was never one of the most
ebullient
of characters, even when he was more carefree and happy than he is today.’

Isabelle had to admit she found it difficult imagining Guy in such a guise.  He was always so sombre, appearing cynical and mistrustful.  More so even than her.  Had there been a time when he was not like that?  She found she was interested to find out. 

‘You say he used to be happier and more carefree?  But I take it that was before the ending of his marriage which must surely have come as a great disappointment to him?’


It was.  Guy has withdrawn from everyone since it happene
d
– even his own son whom I know he adores.  Twas a huge dent to his pride as much as anything else.  In his eyes, divorce brings shame to our name.  And he is quite right of course, it does.’ 


But maybe his heart was broken too?  To lose one’s wife to another man …’


I don’t think my brother has a heart, and if he does, it was never truly given to Charlotte.’  Claudia hesitated.  ‘I should probably not speak of this, I know, but no-one else will and I think it only right that you should be aware of certain circumstances surrounding my brother’s previous marriage.’

She cast a quick glance round to ensure that Guy and Lionel were still some distance behind them, then said in a quieter voice. 
‘Charlotte was a beautiful but silly and pampered ninny-head who had no more thought in her head other than that she wanted to be a Duchess. I believe she was no innocent when she married my brother, and set a deliberate trap to ensnare him.  Sadly, despite the fact he was a mature man of five and twenty years and should have known better, she succeeded.’


What happened?’


Oh nothing so very terrible but the consequences for someone like Guy were always going to mean marriage.  They attended a Ball in London.  It had been clear for some time that Charlotte and her Mama had set their caps at Guy; indeed I used to tease Guy about it mercilessly at the time.  That night, Charlotte convinced Guy that she was overly warm and needed some fresh air.  I had watched her flirting with him all evening - not just smiling and fluttering her eyes behind a fan as most women do; she was more direct than that.’  She lowered her voice to a shocked whisper.  ‘I have never told Guy this, but do you know, I actually saw her press herself quite shamelessly against his lower body when she thought no one else was looking?  And then
stroke
him with her hand?  I ask you…’ Claudia rolled her eyes.  ‘What man is not going to respond to that?  The next thing I saw them slipping out onto the terrace.’  She sighed.  ‘Guy was a fool as I’m sure he has acknowledged to himself many times since.  A few minutes later, Charlotte’s brother supposedly caught them in an act of indiscretion in the gardens - rumour has it that one of her breasts was completely exposed!  Guy had no choice but to ask for her hand after that.  And he lived to rue the day, believe you me.  I could have told him that such a hussy would never stay faithful to one man.  Indeed I tried to talk him out of marrying her.  But he would have none of it.  He had damaged her reputation and he would do the honourable thing.’

Just as h
e had with her, Isabelle thought somewhat sadly.  It seemed that Guy’s sense of honour was doomed to condemn him to a life of regrets.


Come ladies,’ Lionel’s voice boomed from directly behind them as he shuffled a clumsy arm around his wife.  ‘I think we have frozen ourselves quite enough to satisfy your mother, my dear.’

 

Dinner that night was a lively affair.  Isabelle could not help but like her new sister in law, with her quick wit and warm, generous manner.  She was forced to acknowledge that Lionel was something of a buffoon of a character however, and did not appear to have two serious sentences to string together.  But his affection for his wife seemed genuine and she clearly enjoyed ruling the roost in their marriage, so in the strangest of ways it seemed to work. 

When dinner was finished and the men retired for their brandy, the ladies headed for the main salon.

‘I am very fatigued.  I think I will retire, if you will excuse me,’ Claudia said with a smile.  She patted her stomach gently.  ‘We have news for you mama … another bundle of joy is on the way.’


Good Lord,’ her mother announced.  ‘I thought after the last time you swore never again!’


Yes, well these things have a way of happening as you know.  And I have quite forgotten the discomfort by now.  Lionel is still a little shocked at the thought of another child running around, so perhaps you can keep the news to yourself for just a little longer?  Sleep well the both of you and we will see you at breakfast in the morning before we depart.’

On their own in the room, the Dowager looked at Isabelle. 
‘Can I offer you something to drink, Isabelle?’

On the verge of refusing, Isabelle changed her mind.  She had already partaken of a small amount of wine with their dinner and felt it had helped settle some of her nerves. Another glass of something might just be what she needed to dull them completely.

‘Maybe a small rataffia, if you are having one?  Then I feel I too will be ready to retire.  I am quite exhausted - though not, I would hastily add, for the same reasons as your daughter.’ 

The words popped out of her mouth before she had any inclination at all that she was going to utter them and she bit her lip, vexed at herself for saying such a thing when she knew perfectly well that she was incapable of conceiving. That that would be a source of great disappointment to Guy
’s family she had no doubt.  She gave the fire a gentle stoke, even though she knew there was a footman she could call to do it, then turned to look at her mother in law.


How are you feeling?’ she asked, changing the subject and taking the drink from the butler who had magically appeared at her side.  Privately she thought th
e
Dowage
r
was looking much improved.  Indeed she looked positively regal this evening in her finery of the deepest shade of blue.


I think it is I who should be asking you that question, my dear.  I am vexed that my son has spent not much more than a couple of hours in our presence today - and you only recently married.  I hope he has been more attentive to you in your own home?’


You can rest assured he treats me well,’ Isabelle said lightly, aware of her obligation to Guy to convince his mother that theirs was a genuine match.  ‘We are quite content with our situation.’


Hmm.’


Believe me, it is true,’ she said earnestly.  She coloured delicately.  ‘I don’t know how much Guy has told you about my circumstances?’


He has told me nothing – and neither need you if you do not wish it.’


I think maybe it will help you to understand our situation a little better.  The circumstances of my first marriage were not easy.  Guy and I feel we have a certain amount in common over that, which gives us something of a bond.  Neither of us are the type to be over effusive in our emotions but I would not like you to think that is because we are … unhappy.’


Hardly the words of a bride emerging flushed from the bedroom,’ the other woman remarked dryly.  ‘I trust that all is well in that department?’


Your Grace!’


Oh, tush.  You have been married before - and you have no mother of your own to turn to if there is a problem.  And you may call me Mother now that you are married to Guy – unless of course you have an objection to that?’


N…no.  I would be honoured.’


So … is there anything you would wish to discuss or take some advice upon, regarding my son?’


Er, no.  Indeed all is perfectly well, thank you.’

The old woman looked at her shrewdly. 
‘I am going to tell you one thing Isabelle – and after that I will keep my counsel.’

She paused, her wrinkled brow furrowing in concentration before she said. 
‘My son is a good man, but he has been damaged through contracting an unsuitable marriage – just as I suspect you have been.  Fond of him though I am, I am not one of those unrealistic parents who cannot see their children’s faults – and Guy has many.  He is selfish, thoughtless at times and impossibly exacting.  But he never sets standards for others that he would not expect to maintain himself.  I was lucky enough to be married to the love of my life - a rare thing in this day and age - and I like to think that Guy and his sister benefited from being brought up in a secure and loving family.  Yet I despaired of them both in their choice of partners.  Claudia because she could so easily have picked a man with a greater modicum of intelligence, and Guy because he chose unwisely – allowing himself to be seduced by the very obvious charms of a superficial and wilful woman.’

Her gaze switched to where Isabelle was still standing by the fireplace, looking quite beautiful in the cream coloured gown she wore but with an air of agitation about her that was apparent in the way she plucked nervously at the soft folds of the material, her eyes drifting to the door as if expecting at any moment it would open.

‘I have watched you and my son together and though you try to hide it, I can see that your relationship is not as straightforward as it could be.  I suspect that I am partly to blame for that.  No …’ sh
e
held up her hand when Isabelle would have spoken.  ‘Please let me finish.  I am not stupid.  I suspect that you brought forward your plans to marry - perhaps before you were quite ready to do so - because of my state of health.  And if that is the case then I am sorry for it, even though I thank you.  But I sense that you are good for each other, and if you give things time – and exhibit patience – I am sure there is a good chance that things will work out very nicely for you both.’

Her eyes were sharp as they studied Isabelle’s face.  ‘I am proud of my son, Isabelle.  And beneath the rather harsh exterior he exudes, there lies a man capable of enormous love and friendship if the right woman can draw it from him.  All I ask is that you give him a chance; be tolerant if he appears impatient or mistrusting.  For I can assure you that his heart once given will be a treasure for life.’

She broke off as the door opened and the subject of their conversation entered the room.

‘Ah, Guy,’ his mother said smoothly.  ‘We were just talking of you and wondering when you were returning.  Your wife and I are ready to retire.’


That is a shame,’ Guy said, but he was not quick enough to hide the relief in his eyes from Isabelle. He held the door open for them both.  ‘I will see you shortly, my love’ he said as she passed. 

It was for his mother
’s benefit she knew, but even so his words made her heart quicken at the thought of another night sharing his bed.

CHAPTER NINE

 

Guy watched them leave, then helped himself to another brandy.  Lionel had already retired for which he was profusely grateful.  Harmless though the man was, he could become incredibly tedious within a very short space of time. 

He sat down in a chair and pondered the enigma that was his wife.  His reaction to her this morning had disconcerted him and if he was not careful it could complicate matters.  It was one thing to have her grace his table and occasionally, hopefully, his bed, but he certainly did not intend to get carried away in any sense.  He had let his feelings get the better of him once before with Charlotte and look what that had brought him.  Nothing but trouble.  He had been forced to marry her and then stand by and watch as she flirted with nearly every man she came into contact with.  It had been humiliating.  Within eighteen months of their marriage ceremony she had stopped even pretending she had any feelings for him.  She had given him his heir and her duty done, it had not really come as any great surprise when she had declared herself passionately in love with her second cousin.

‘He has been posted to France,’ she had said, eyeing him nervously, ‘and I wish to go with him.’

He had stared at her in absolute shock. 
’Do not be ridiculous. Think of the scandal you will cause - and what of Charles?’

A crafty look had entered her eyes. 
‘Ah now that is where I think we might make a bargain.    Roland is not fully happy with the thought of starting our marriage with a child already in place.   Especially when it is not his.’


Starting a marriage?  I would remind you madam that you are already in one.’


Marriages can be annulled.’


Not when they have been consummated and there is a child to show for it.’


Divorce then?’  Her eyes flashed her determination.   ‘I will not be swayed from this Guy.  You have never treated me properly and you are too serious.  Roland treats me as if I am the only thing in the world he cares about and he enjoys having fun
as much as I do.  I thought I would enjoy being a Duchess but I find it is too boring for words.’


Too boring for words?  May I remind you Madam, that since you have been my wife, our life has been a round of non-stop parties and socialising that would drive most men to an early grave.  And be all that as it may, we entered into a contract of marriage.  Divorce does not happen in my family.’


Oh don’t be so stuffy.  It is not such a stigma as it was.’


I repeat Charlotte.  It does not happen in my family.  I will not divorce you.’


Oh, but I think you will Guy.’

His eyes narrowed at her change of tone and he was quick to note the determination in her gaze.

‘Make no mistake,’ she said in a hard voice, ‘I
am
leaving you, and though you may wish to, you cannot prevent me.  Now you can either let me go peacefully and quietly in which case I will let you keep your son, or I shall leave not so quietly and take Charles with me - to France.  And before you say you would prevent me from doing that, let me just say that you cannot watch me and Charles twenty four hours a day for the next ten years or more.  I will get my opportunity and I will take it.’

It was as if something had snapped inside him as he
’d listened to her ultimatum.  He had stared at her long and hard, then actually found himself considering her proposal.  Of course he would be mortified by being the first one in his family to divorce, but was he doing his family name any more of a favour by remaining married to one such as she?  And did he really want to be tied to her for the rest of his life?  Have her bring up his son?

A veil had descended over his eyes, his demeanour becoming icy. 
‘Very well, Charlotte.  If that is what you want then you can have your divorce.  But it is not because you threaten me that I am prepared to let you go.  It is because you are a strumpet not fit to hold the Rotherham name - and certainly not fit to be a mother to my son.  Go to your lover with my blessing.  I certainly wish him an easier time of you than I have had.’


How dare you call me a strumpet.’


I dare because it is the truth.’


And I suppose you think you have had the last laugh?’ she said, her eyes flashing.  ‘Well let me tell you this
Your Grace. 
Next time you look into your son’s face ask yourself this question.  Do you
really
think he looks like you?’

And she had swept angrily from the room.

 

 

Now as he sat in his mother’s drawing room brooding, he swirled the brandy in the bottom of his glass and told himself that he was not making any better a job of his second marriage.  He was not a rash man usually, but it had certainly been a rash action to ask Isabelle to participate in a pretend Engagement.  And once again, his wretched sense of honour - that no-one other than he seemed to consider of any importance - had placed him in a situation from which it had been impossible to extricate himself. 

And now she too was threatening to leave; have the marriage annulled.  He could not believe it -and would not let it happen.  One mistake he could allow himself.  But two?

Half an hour and two brandies later, Guy had prepared for bed and entered their room.  His wife was lying on her side facing him, her features peaceful in repose in the dim light.  Something stirred within him at the sight of her.  She was becoming familiar to him he realised; the shape of her face, the glorious main of hair that despite its colour did not appear to herald an unruly temper; her calm demeanour.  Much as he had privately despaired at being forced to enter into the institution of marriage for a second time, he was beginning to realise that he could have done much worse in his choice of brides than Isabelle.

Climbing into the bed next to her, he was aware once again of his arousal.  This was getting to be a damned nuisance and he had a beautiful woman lying only inches from him who he was supposedly not allowed to touch.

Why was she frigid?  Was she genuinely made that way?  Or was it simply that her previous husband had not known how to awaken her?  It would not surprise him if it was the latter.  Her husband’s reputation had preceded him.  He was a brute of a man who in his younger days had been expelled from Brook’s for cheating at cards.  Guy could quite understand how being married to a man like that could scar a genteel young girl for life.  And he had seen how soft and gentle she was with Charles.  There was no coldness in her demeanour at those times.  Indeed when she had hugged Charles laughingly to her bosom he had been aware of a vague feeling of envy.

He observed her closely on the pillow next to him.  It seemed to him that her breathing was not quite so steady as he had at first thought.  

‘Isabelle?’ he whispered.

 

His breath was warm on her face and smelt faintly of brandy.  She lay with her eyes tightly closed, wishing her back was to him so that he could not see her features so easily. 


I know you are awake,’ he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Feeling a little stupid, she forced her eyes open to look at him.  His head was but inches from hers and for a moment their eyes locked as neither said a word.

Very slowly, he reached out a hand to stroke the hair from her brow and she tensed.


We talked of maybe finding a compromise,’ he said in his deep voice.  ‘And I find myself sorely in need of relief.  At this moment in time I would be very happy if you were to take matters into your own hand as it were and deal with my … urges.’

Isabelle went a fiery red, robbed of the power of speech by his directness.  But had she not invited this upon herself? 

She was not sure
what
she should do, but the alcohol she had partaken of gave her courage.  She had done this many a time with Richard.  It could surely not be so much different with Guy?   And maybe if she kept him satisfied in that way it would be enough for him.


Very well, Guy,’ she whispered.  ‘I can try.’

She tried to switch her mind off from what she was doing as she slid her hand tentatively over his hip.  But she found it impossible.   It was all very well telling herself that this was no different to when she had been with Richard, but it was completely different.  Richard had been a poor pathetic excuse of a man, whose excesses had led to him ageing prematurely.  Apart from when he indulged in violence, he had been relatively easy to manipulate.  Th
e
Duk
e
was a completely different kettle of fish.  He was strong and virile and she felt awed by him just standing in the same room.  Yet somehow she
had
to assert herself and take control - bring him to release in her hand so as to satisfy him and prevent him from demanding more.

Taking a breath, she let her fingers trail down to the hard ridge protruding beneath his shift.  She suppressed a nervous gasp.  He was so much bigger than Richard had been, so much harder.  And as her hand settled on him, she could feel him still growing

She had assumed that all men were alike in their anatomy, had often scoffed at the thought of being raped, for how could a man possibly force a weak, bendy thing like that inside one if one truly resisted?  Now she understood, and for the first time she felt fear.  If he were to force his way into her as Richard had tried, it would be agony.  She could not let that happen.


Aah, that feels good,’  Guy murmured, closing his eyes.

 

Her felt her hand trail tantalisingly down towards the hem of his nightshirt, then glide smoothly upwards beneath it, her touch so light that it sent shivers trembling through him.  She caressed the inside of his thighs, almost but not quite touching his shaft, and he opened his legs to accommodate her.  His cock was hot, desperate for the feel of those warm fingers around it.


Aah, Isabelle,’ he muttered, easing himself towards her palm.

Just when he thought he could take no more, she grasped him in her hand and began to squeeze; sliding up and down his shaft with an unexpected competence that made him groan. 

‘Let me take you,’ he muttered, trying to roll her over.

She resisted him. 

‘That was not our agreement.’ she whispered.  ‘Lie back and enjoy what I am doing to you.’

She loosened her grip, then tightened it again, alternating the speed of her manipulations until his breathing grew heavy, his body taut as a wire. 

‘Faster,’ he rasped, thrusting himself into her hand. 

Her hand sped up.
‘Like this?  Does it feel good?’  

‘Ah, so good …’

He sucked in a breath as her grip lightened
, her swift fingers continuing their exquisite work until they drove all conscious thought from his mind.
Ye Gods, he wanted to tup her -
but he was lost to the sensations rising in his cock.


Yes, that’s the way …’

He felt the beginnings of his seed
rising; there was no stopping it now.  He cried out as it erupted, bucking violently into her hand as his climax shuddered through him.  His head was buried in her hair and he turned his lips to her neck, nuzzling her there as she drained the very last drop from him.   


Enough, or I will surely die of the pleasure,’ he groaned. 

Immediately she stopped.  She did not want
that
happening again.

After a few moments he opened his eyes to look at her. 
‘You are a witch,’ he rumbled, taking a strand of her silky hair in his hand and winding it around his fingers...  ‘And I confess to not knowing quite how to take you.  In one breath you claim to abhor sex in any shape or form, and on the other …’ he gave her a rueful smile, ‘I have to say, you give the best hand massage it has ever been my good fortune to receive.  I trust I did not become too much like an animal as I indulged my carnal appetite?’

She had the grace to blush as he reminded her of her words, and he watched the spread of colour with satisfaction.  It was true, he did not know how to take her.  She was an enigma, and though he felt completely sated, he had not intended finishing like that.  His plan had been to let one thing lead to another and show her some of the pleasures to be enjoyed by them both.  He usually prided himself on his detachment, his control in the act, gaining as much enjoyment from seeing his partner
’s pleasure as his own, and he was aware that he felt out of sorts that she had manipulated him so successfully as to drive all reason from his mind. 

Next time - and there would be a next time he vowed, as slowly he released her hair - he would not so easily be dealt with.

BOOK: Desperate Measures (Regency Undone)
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