Lady Henrietta's Dilemma: Regency Suspense Romance Book 2 (Lords of Sussex) (14 page)

Henrietta was sorely tempted to go to Ambros, but then the scandal; the ton would exile the family.  Her poor mama would be devastated; her life ruined, papa or her brothers drawn into duels.  No, she needed to get to Isabella. ‘I think we should at least be polite to each other.’ Henrietta tried not to grimace as she said it, her mind teeming, she would tell Isabella all tonight.

‘You won’t regret it my darling.’ Vaughan rushed towards her, locking her in his arms. Lifting her chin, he kissed her, pulling her towards the bed.

‘May I remind you my lord; I have my courses,’ she said, putting a hand to his chest. She had no compunction in lying; a small seed grew in her mind. Maybe this was a way out of this disastrous marriage, if she remained a virgin, the marriage could be annulled. She felt her heart lift.

Outside on the street, Ambros looked up at the first-floor window, at the gauze wafting in the breeze. His lip curled, if Bruges harmed her, he might well kill him. The bastard backed off when he threatened to call him out. Some brutes took the belt to a wife who argued, or did not show what they considered the proper respect to their lord and master. Why even now, in these modern times, it was known for some to put the woman in a Scold’s Bridle if they nagged or swore, taking it off only to allow her to eat. These forms of punishment angered him; women were not cattle to be scourged; they were human beings with feelings and minds equal to any man.  He gritted his teeth, knowing it would take many years before Parliament addressed the plight of women, if at all.

In the meantime, he determined Vaughan would not lay a finger on Henrietta. As he stomped away, he sighed, when oh when would he find the courage to tell her he took the jewels? Would she spurn him, or understand?

After a long hot bath, Henrietta stood at the mirror. She felt grateful for Drucy’s generosity.  At least, she had a decent dress for this evening’s soiree.  Vaughan was pleasant and chatty at dinner dressed immaculately in a cinnabar frockcoat and silver waistcoat. She noticed he refashioned the long blond locks a la Brutus.  She was rather puzzled how one could change from a snarling wife beater, to an attentive lover in the space of a few hours. But then, she would not have to suffer his presence much longer. Part of her wished she was with Ambros, but she had to repel the urges in her body, as she thought of him. There was no future there
yet, not until the whole situation was resolved. She was not the type of person to take a lover, even though she knew of many who did. One lady, even had three men in her boudoir, helping her to dress, choosing her apparel from her chemise to her gown, whilst her husband readied himself in his room.

As the footmen cleared the dinner dishes, in preparation for the desert, Vaughan looked over to her. ‘I think m’dear you should have an early night. You must be exhausted with all the travelling.’

‘Oh no, my lord, I am not at all tired; I was looking forward to Isabella’s soiree and supper.  Oh Vaughan we must go.’

Her heart sank, as he shook his head, ‘Sorry m’dear, I have a meeting. I can’t evade it. I did tell the general it was our first evening together; he was not amused, insisting I attend, wife or not.

Henrietta gave a tight smile, ‘Oh very well, then perhaps I shall spend a quiet evening reading.  I did bring a few books.  Luckily, they were not despoiled in the river.’

‘That’s my girl, have a rest and an early night.  I know tomorrow I shall be caught up all day. Perhaps you would enjoy a ride out in the park in the curricle. Take a footman with you.’

‘Yes, that would be something to look forward to.’ She kept her face composed.

‘I shall be rather late tonight my love, so I will take care not to disturb you.’

The silence of the house enveloped her as she sat in the empty drawing room.  It was perhaps the first time she had been completely alone.  There was always someone around at home, her mother, father – brothers, relations, visitors. As she glanced around the room, it reminded her of a well-lit mausoleum, cold and austere.  She glanced up at the Ormolu clock; she would waste no more time. Racing upstairs, she packed within minutes. Picking up the bell, she rang for a footman. As he appeared, she hesitated not being acquainted with their names as yet.  ‘Err … could you tell me your name?’

‘Thomas my lady, at your service.’

‘Is there a carriage spare?’

‘Yes my lady.’

‘Then have it drawn up for me. I also need a footman to accompany me to 19 Rue de Royale. Oh, and please carry my trunk downstairs.’ Ignoring his expression of surprise, she followed him down to the front door. 

The carriage was smart considering it was a spare, with gilt lamps. The interior was again sumptuous, with red velvet squab seats and extra cushions. As it was still quite light, she decided against a runner. Even though she was alone, she enjoyed viewing the gothic architecture and cobbled streets
. In England, so much was given over these days to the modern Palladian style villas and houses, with white stone facades, marbled steps and porticos.

She drew a hand across her forehead, drawing a breath in the stifling heat of the carriage. Discarding her shawl, she turned down the window.  As the carriage turned into another narrow cobbled street, she espied another carriage coming towards them at a sharp pace.  She held her breath; it would be a tight squeeze, and the horses seemed nervous. However, she assured herself the drivers were well used to it.  The carriages were within inches of each other, when she felt the horses skitter. Grabbing the rail of the window, she froze, as she saw Vaughan sitting only feet away
, talking animatedly to a young woman who seemed pale and tense.  She pushed herself back against the seat, there was so mistaking the cinnabar frockcoat and silver waistcoat, his fair hair a la Brutus.

So, he’d lied to her once again.  Who was the woman? Had he brought his mistress to Brussels after all? 
So many falsehoods. Folding her arms, she gathered the strength of her loving family around her. Even though they were far from her, she imagined them all standing behind her, a guard of love and strength. Let him keep her dowry; she just wanted her freedom from a marriage scarcely a few days old. As the carriage made its way to Isabella’s, she failed to notice a lone rider, some fifty yards behind her.

In her haste, almost blinded by tears, Henrietta hardly noticed the splendour of the building, with brooding gothic arches, mullioned windows and immense carved oak doors and iron brackets. A solemn butler opened the door, bowing as deeply as his paunch would allow. With a
kindly dip of his head, he waved her into what could only be described as a medieval reception area, the stone work carried through on walls laden with trophies of stags heads, antlers, medieval armoury, of cross swords, breastplates of armour, and here and there a glass case of long dead dogs,  the work of a skilled taxidermist.  Glancing up she glimpsed a stuffed owl with wings outstretched, perched on a darkened beam high in the vaulted ceiling.

‘May I take your shawl my lady?’

‘Oh no thank you; it is just a bit chilly here.’ Henrietta said, clutching her shawl around her. Indeed, the change in temperature from the heat outside to the cool interior of the house made her shiver.

‘Then please follow me if you will. Lady Standford awaits you in the banqueting hall.’

Following him down a wide stone corridor, he opened massive carved doors to a figure in white rushing towards her. ‘Dearest, Henrietta, oh how glad I am to see you. I have missed you so. Goodness, I don’t think we've ever been parted so long.'

Chattering away, oblivious to Henrietta’s subdued manner, Isabella pulled her forward
, calling to her husband, ‘Alex – tis Henrietta – at last. Now I have another female to chat to.’

‘Well that will be a relief, not that I don't appreciate your company my darling, but —’

‘Fie on you Alex.’ Turning to Henrietta, she went to say more, only to stop in mid-speech. ‘Why dearest, what is amiss?’ Looking over to a group of guests at the far end of the hall, she tugged Henrietta to one side.

Seeing the alarm and concern in her friend’s face, Henrietta could not hold back the tears. ‘Oh I am sorry Isa, so sorry, but I am bereft.’

Isabella paused signalling to Alex, now looking very concerned.  ‘Alex, keep the guests occupied.  I shall take Etta into the anteroom … we need some privacy.’

Henrietta clasped her friend’s arm, ‘Oh please Isa – no – it’s alright. I’d better go – I’m sorry.’

‘No you shall not,’ Isa responded fiercely. ‘You are not going anywhere. Now tell me sweetheart,’

She tried to tell her Vaughan sold her to another man, but the words would not come, instead she said, ‘Tis Vaughan – I saw him with another woman – in the street leading to here.  He told me he was going to a meeting with General Althorpe.’

‘Are you sure it was he?’

‘Oh yes, I could not mistake him; he was only feet away; the carriages were almost touching; the street was so narrow.’

‘Oh dear Lord – Etta…’ Tightening her lips she muttered, ‘Damn him – how could he? And, you are newly married.’

‘Father has it in the marriage contracts that he may not spend my dowry on another woman or mistress. However, I fear he is already breaking that promise. I am almost sure tis his mistress, Esther - Esther Taunton. I have never seen her, but I know they have been together for three years. He did not admit she was here
, but then….’ Oh God I cannot bear it.’

‘The cur.
Look sweetheart, would you like to go to my drawing room.’

‘Yes, oh Isa, I’m so sorry; it's your dinner party, and I am spoiling it.’

‘Don’t talk like that. ‘Isa said, clutching her hand. ‘Come, I will take you there.’ 

Standing up, she waved to Alex, who was watching them discreetly.  When she signalled to the door, he caught her message and nodded. There were more guests to arrive yet, as well as artistes. The latter, being celebrated soloists, enjoyed making an entrance, so dinner would be sometime yet.   

Closing the door to the drawing room, Isa led Etta to a three-seater settee. Catching her hand, she held it tightly. ‘How have things been?’

‘Not good Isa, it’s partly my fault; I know that, it’s just that I didn’t realize.  He … he was just about to whip me today, but a friend intervened.’

‘Whip you? The brute. Oh dear lord.  Why?’

‘It is my fault as well Isa, I just … I just can’t bear him near me. It started before we married, when he came into my bedroom. D’you
remember? We were staying over with you, when Ladness and his dandies attacked us. He repulsed me – still does.’

‘That is no reason to whip you.’

‘He was jealous.  Oh dear, I do not know how to tell you - it is so shameful.’

‘Just a moment, I’ll ring for tea or something stronger. Brandy, Wine?
Ratafia? Tea?’

‘Tea please.
I dare not drink wine; it will make me worse.’

Going to the window, Isa pulled upon the silken cord to summon a maid.

Returning to the settee, she sat beside Etta, drawing her close.  ‘Tell me dearest. We can sort this out.’

‘But what of your guests?’

‘Tis early yet, you know what they’re like, it’s a soiree, so they will drift in and out, some will stay for supper, or move  on to a more popular venue. I think they prefer the routs and the dancing. It’s quite a competition in Brussels keeping the guests to stay.’

‘Then you must go.’

‘No – not until you tell me.’

Taking a deep breath, and steeling herself for the ordeal, Etta told Isa of the ball, and how she met Ambros. Realizing she was giving in to her fear, she gathered her strength. ‘Isa – he …he sold me.’

‘Sold you? Oh my God, what d’you mean? Vaughan sold you? Dear Lord, I can’t believe it.’ Isa interjected.

Etta told her more of that desperate evening, of Vaughan playing cards whilst Ambros took her out to the balcony.

‘The varmint, dear lord, you could have been sold into some brothel, or hell dive.’ Tears fell, as scandalized, Isa hugged her close, fear for her friend flushing through her body.

They stopped talking, as the maid returned with a tray of tea and a plate of meats and pastries. ‘Just leave it there Daisy. Thank you.’

Swiftly pouring Etta a steaming cup of tea, Isa sat down once more beside her.

As Etta finished telling her of the events, subsequent to that fateful evening, Isa sat speechless, trembling. ‘I will go to the guests, and excuse myself, darling I cannot leave you.’

‘No you cannot do that Isa please. People will start guessing something is wrong; some did see me enter. But, oh Isa, please – please let me stay with you. Somehow or other I have to get back to England.’

‘Of course you must stay with us. I would never let you go back to that bastard. Dear God, I would shoot him if I saw him. He – he actually planned it all, the devious devil; he married you to sell you.  I must get Alex here.’

‘No –no please go back to your guests.’

‘How can I Etta, whilst here you are breaking your heart?’

‘Please it is enough that I am with you both. I can rest here until your guests have gone.’

‘Well I can assure you it will be a short evening once I tell Alex of this. But come you do look pale; I shall have the butler bring you some laudanum, just to calm you?’

‘Oh no, I need my wits about me. I just do not know what he is capable of.

‘Would you like to send a footman for Wiltshire?'

‘Oh no,’ Etta shook her head. ‘That would only complicate matters. Please go now; join your guests.’

‘Oh dear, look, I will tell Alex, and he can take care of the guests, I could say I had a fainting fit. ‘

‘No Isa please, for my sake, please go to them. I will worry so if you don’t.’ 

‘Hmm, it is a buffet supper, so I can slip in and out. I just wish I could send them all away.’

‘No you mustn’t do that, the scandal mongers would run with it. No, I need time to think.  At least, I feel so much safer now.’

As Isa left, she lay back on the settee, her hand to her brow, relief seeped through her body.  She would never go back to Vaughan – could not. God knows what he would do to her. She no longer trusted him, and Ambros could not be there twenty-four hours a day. Her thoughts drifted to and fro, as she sought an answer to the dilemma, she needed more proof of his infidelity. 

She was still a virgin, and he had broken the contracts let alone sold her; her father could have the marriage annulled. As a duke, he held the utmost power, being privy to Prinny’s ear as well.

She bit her
lip, she did not want to destroy him. Vaughan was wicked and selfish, a wife beater, but his poor mama and sisters relied upon him for protection. No, she just wanted out of the marriage.

Exhaustion overcame
her, she had barely slept for three nights now. It all seemed topsy turvy. At least she was safe with Isabella and Alex, now she could relax a little. Closing her eyes, she was not aware of drowsing.  Vaughan’s angry snarling and accusations intruded upon fragments of dreams, as she ran from racing horses, tormented women and horses’ whips. Feeling something or someone stroke her forehead, she slowly opened her eyes to see Isa bending over her; Alex came into view; his brow furrowed.

‘I  ...
I couldn’t  keep my eyes  open, I … how long? Have I—’

‘Dearest, you’ve slept
a few hours. I’ve been popping in and out. We managed to get the guests to leave early.’

Rising, she rubbed her eyes. ‘I am mortified to be such a burden to you both.’ 

‘Don’t’ say that.’ Alex murmured, ‘How can friends ever be a burden. Friends bring cheer to our darkest hour.’

Looking up into his kind eyes, she gulped. If only Vaughan had shown a glimmer of his openhearted concern. Seeing the tears well in her eyes, Isa sat down beside her, and signalled with her eyes for Alex to leave. He nodded, and quietly left the room.

Sitting beside her on the settee, Etta said, ‘Now as much as I love Alex, I think us girls need the privacy to talk. So, I won’t waste any time. Vaughan has treated you abominably. To sell you, is atrocious behaviour. You cannot possibly go back to him.’