The Sweetest Revenge (23 page)

“I think her next conquest will be Mr. Sutherland, certainly,” Susan said.

“I doubt that!” Isabelle exclaimed.

“I think you should become his mistress,” Anna said. “All it would require is a quick tumble every once in a while. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too awful, not with a man like Sutherland. You’d have your needs fulfilled, your own house in London—”

“You could stay near us, Isabelle,” Susan interjected. “It is true, I am being selfish, but I shall miss you dreadfully when you are gone.”

“That is very sweet, but I can hardly become Mr. Sutherland’s mistress so you won’t have to miss me when I go to Scotland. I will write. Daily, probably. You will find my ramblings about grass pasture and sheep quite tedious, I’m afraid.”

Anna gasped. “You wouldn’t write to us about sheep, would you? That would be monstrous.”

Isabelle held up her hands in a gesture of hopelessness. “I’m afraid that’s all there is. Sheep are my only Scottish friends. Perhaps if I write eloquently enough about them, they will become your friends, too.”

“Don’t even attempt it, Iz. Please. I beg you.”

Susan lowered herself on the edge of the bed beside Isabelle. “Tell us about what happened with Leo.”

Isabelle tried to make her voice light. “As I said. We talked. I kissed him, and then I left. It all went according to plan. I must say, I didn’t think it would go so smoothly, Susan. You are a cunning judge of human nature.”

“What did he say?”

Isabelle’s chest filled, remembering the look on his face when he begged her to stay. “He said, ‘Please stay.’ He said he wanted me.”

Anna snorted. “Did I not say he’d want you? Men. They’re all the same. Exactly alike, I tell you.”

“And what of your Lord Archer, Anna? Will you see him again tonight?” Isabelle asked.

“He wishes me to.”

“I have sent a message to him asking him to visit us,” Susan said. “And I asked him to come alone this time.”

Anna’s gaze snapped to Susan. “Why?”

“I am going to get to the bottom of this once and for all. I want to know how he found you and why he brought you here. Further, I would like to put forth a show of solidarity behind you, to let him know that Isabelle and I support you and will protect you against him at all costs.”

Anna plunked the perfume case down on the table and scowled at Susan, her eyes fierce. “It will not come to that, Susan. Come now, you know him as well as I do. You know he would not harm a fly.”

“He’s killed
men
, Anna. He was at Waterloo, remember?”

“That was war. War is a different animal altogether.”

Susan threw up her hands in exasperation. “Regardless of what kind of an animal war is and how it differs from matters of the flesh, I wish to have a word with him. He
is
my cousin after all. You can choose to attend, or not—I will leave it up to you. Do you object?”

“Of course not.” Anna smiled sweetly, but trepidation burned in her eyes.

***

Lord Archer arrived after dinner, when Isabelle and the others were taking their claret in the drawing room. They all rose and exchanged bows as he entered, but the atmosphere in the room had changed since his last visit. Now one of them was his mistress, and the others were well aware of the fact. The resulting tension was nearly palpable.

It was strange, but thinking on it, Isabelle wondered why she didn’t feel odd when a husband and wife were present in the same room with her. This was not so different. Or was it?

“Good evening, cousin,” Lord Archer said, kissing Susan’s cheek. Then he bowed toward Isabelle. “Miss Frasier, it is nice to see you again.” He turned to Anna and nodded formally. “Anna.”

“Good evening, Thomas. Please sit down.” Susan poured him a glass of brandy.

Lord Archer lowered himself on the sofa and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “Not that I object to calling upon you fair ladies, but I know you, Susan. There was purpose behind your invitation.”

“There was, indeed, Thomas.”

He took the cup she offered him and placed it on the round table beside him. “Well then, may I ask what this is about?”

“It is about Anna. And you.”

Lord Archer diligently kept his gaze from sliding to his paramour, though Isabelle could see by his clenched fists that it cost him some effort.

“I’ve asked you to come because I wanted to be certain I will not see Anna hurt again.”

Lord Archer rose indignantly. “Do you think I would replicate what Leoth—what was done to her in the past? I am a gentleman, Susan. I would never harm her.”

“Pish.” Susan flicked a dismissive hand at him. “Sit, Thomas. You’re being led about by your nether regions, just like every man I’ve ever known. What happens when you tire of her?”

Anna groaned softly. Isabelle glanced at her, saw that she’d buried her face in her hands. But Susan continued, “And don’t say that you will not, Thomas. You desire her for her beauty now, but all beauty fades, doesn’t it?”

Anna was one of the bonniest ladies Isabelle had ever known. It was hard to imagine that beauty such as hers could ever diminish.

Lord Archer seemed to agree. His mouth set into a stubborn line. “Hers will not fade.”

Susan rolled her eyes. “God save me from fools like you.”

Anna groaned softly. “Oh, Susie, this is so unpleasant.”

Lord Archer’s temper was rising. Isabelle saw it in the set of his jaw, in the flash of his eyes.

“That is enough, Susan,” he said. “Now I know in what little regard you hold me.”

When have you given me a reason to hold you in my regard?” Susan snapped. “I scarcely hear from you. Whenever I hear
of
you, the stories have something to do with orgies or gambling.”

Lord Archer’s face paled. His lips pressed into a thin line in an expression that reminded Isabelle of a look she’d often seen on his cousin.

Isabelle rotated her own cup slowly in her hand. “My lord, I believe, perhaps… Well, there is a bit of a mystery perhaps you could help us solve.”

Lord Archer gazed at her, his green eyes nearly reptilian in their anger. “What might that be, Miss Frasier?”

“Perhaps…perhaps you could tell us the story of how you came to find Anna in the…in the…well, where you found her.”

“That was many months ago. I fail to understand the importance—”

“I want to know.” Susan’s sharp voice cut through the room like a whip.

“Very well.” He glanced at Anna and swallowed convulsively. “But I would be loath to cause you any distress, Anna.”

She swung her head from side to side in two quick jerks. “Please do tell us. Susan and Isabelle know everything about my…my fall from grace. But none of us know why you took me from that place. Indeed, I have been madly curious.”

He sat on the edge of the sofa, took a sip of his tea, then rested his hands stiffly upon his knees. Finally, using a very low voice, he spoke, directing his words to Susan. “I was there. In Peterborough, the night Leo went to her bed.”

Anna gasped.

Lord Archer continued. “I had just arrived that evening. Leo hadn’t yet seen me—he only seemed to have eyes for one person that night—and I hadn’t yet been introduced to Miss Newton—to Anna. I had just entered the drawing room when I saw her whisper in his ear. I watched him rise to leave; then I followed him, thinking to engage him in conversation. I ended up following him all the way to her room without him realizing it.” Lord Archer’s lip curled. “He was definitely sotted. Early the next morning, long before dawn, I awoke to sounds in the room next door—Leo’s room. I saw him leave Jennings’s house. I could easily deduce the reason why he left.”

Lord Archer seemed to fall into some sort of reverie, but a hiss of a log in the fire seemed to return him to awareness. He blinked and refocused on his cousin.

Susan broke the silence. “But why had you gone to Mrs. Snow’s establishment in the first place, Thomas?”

Lord Archer cleared his throat, glanced at Anna, then swiftly away. “I witnessed what happened to her in Peterborough. It was the scandal of the house party. Her father took her home immediately, and then we all heard of her subsequent banishment from the only home she’d ever known. I returned to London, thinking she must have come here, and I looked for her. I spent the better part of a year searching before I found the landlord of the flat she’d rented. He told me he’d evicted her for not paying the rent. It was then that I realized she might have been forced to turn to one of the, er, less reputable establishments. I made a point to visit several per week. It took seven more weeks before I found her.”

The three woman sat, stunned, for several long moments. Isabelle glanced at Anna. She stared at the floor, her shoulders shaking. Setting her tea down, Isabelle went to kneel beside her friend, slipping an arm over her shoulders to comfort her.

Susan reached out to set her hand on Lord Archer’s arm. “That surely must be the most gallant story that has ever crossed my ears, cousin.”

Lord Archer cleared his throat. “Nonsense. I only did what was right.”

Rubbing her fingers lightly over Anna’s bowed back, Isabelle remembered that not long ago, she had heard the exact same words issue from Susan’s lips.

Susan smiled. “Your intentions are pure when it comes to Anna. I shall never forget that you are the one who saved her from complete ruin. Thank you.”

 “I care for her,” Lord Archer said gruffly.

“I can see that you do,” Susan said.

She squeezed his arm, and Isabelle felt like an intruder as something sweet passed between Susan and Lord Archer, something she interpreted as a reawakened familial affection.

“I was wrong about you,” Susan whispered finally. She passed the back of her hand across her brow. “I am so sorry, Thomas.”

***

The cellar was particularly cold this morning. Hercules had brought Leo a steaming bowl of porridge, but even after devouring it, Leo felt chilled inside and out.

Only one thing could warm him.

Hercules had just entered to blindfold and bind him. He knew by now that this meant he should expect one of his female captors to visit. When the door opened, he offered a quick prayer for it to be Belle and not one of the others.

“Good morning.”

Thank you, Lord
. It was her. He released a long breath, relieved.

“Belle.”

She’d come back. He wanted to thank her. He wasn’t sure she would return after what had happened last night.

Silence. He felt her watching him. His eyes couldn’t see her, but his body reacted to her gaze, hardening all over. He shuddered.

“It is so cold in here,” she whispered.

He knew how they could warm each other.
Come closer, Belle. Let me put my arms around you.
But he couldn’t say that. He’d been desperate when she’d come to him yesterday, and his desperation had driven her away.

He didn’t understand her intentions when it came to him, but he’d do whatever he could to keep her close.

“It’s very cold,” he agreed.

“I don’t want you to suffer.”

I suffer every moment you are not with me
.

She came closer. He smelled Scottish heather and female and
Belle
.

“Can I get you something, Leo? To make you more comfortable?”

God, he loved the sound of her voice. The softness of it, punctuated by the gently rolling sounds of her Scottish lilt.

“Don’t leave,” he blurted. “Please. Just stay with me.”

“I’ll stay for a short time.” Her skirts rustled. She was sitting in the chair. Too far away.

“Until…until they return home,” she added.

“Are Lady M and Mistress Jane away?”

“Aye. They went to…visit a friend.”

The waver in her voice made him think that she was lying. But why lie about such a thing?

“Will you sit beside me?”

She did not answer, but a few seconds later, she settled beside him. Close enough that he could feel the heat of her.

“You are so warm,” he murmured.

Bound behind his back, his fingers curled, aching to touch her. To stroke her soft, warm skin. Her smooth cheeks, her arms, her shoulders. He’d raise her skirts and stroke his hands up and down her legs. He’d search her between her legs, in that hottest, softest part of her. He’d lower his mouth to that place. He’d taste her sweetness, drink in all of her warmth, take it into himself.

“You are very cold.” She arranged the blanket over his shoulders and then sat quietly for a time, not touching him. He imagined her sitting beside him, her hands clasped in her lap, her cheeks pink, her unruly blonde curls framing her face.

She could look different now. Her hair could have straightened, turned dark or thin or even gray. She could be too fat or too bony. Her complexion might be sallow. She might have even lost some teeth.

He didn’t care.

His mind reeled.
He didn’t care!
What had possessed him to stop caring about a woman’s outer shell? Even when he first met Belle, her appearance was what had attracted him—her sweet face, her ripe, lush body.

The true connection, though, had come later, when he realized he didn’t just lust for her, he liked her. He loved her. How strange that he still felt this connection after all this time.

He didn’t know what to say. The desire to explain everything to her and ply her with excuses for his past behavior struggled with thoughts of bedding her, of that summer he had spent with her, beside her, inside her, above and below her. He settled for something altogether neutral.

“How long have you been in London?”

“Since the spring,” she replied.

“What brought you?”

“My aunt invited me. I come to London in the spring sometimes. This year… Well, I’ve stayed longer than usual.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Aye. My aunt… Well, she is the kindest of my relatives.”

“I see.” Then, curiosity overwhelming him, he asked, “Why didn’t you write to me?”

“I wasn’t allowed. I tried, but they controlled everything I did. They found the letters I wrote and burned them. I lived with my Aunt Flora for the first two years. She said…she said my desperation showed the weakness of my character. She said I was depraved and repulsive. She said you would laugh at me.”