Virtue and Vice (26 page)

“And look at this little country mouse coming our way. What’s she doing out of the schoolroom do you think?” Barbara remarked in a snide tone as she handed down her indictment to whichever unfortunate woman caught her notice, tossing her sable hair back over her shoulder as she did so, a motion Izzy noticed she did often, likely to draw attention to the fabulous diamonds fastened about her neck. A gift, no doubt, from her royal lover.

Izzy turned in the direction Barbara motioned without much interest, which changed the instant she recognized the “little country mouse” as Belinda. With a gasp she flew from the Countesses’ side, giving no word of excuse. She reached Belinda and wrapped her arms around her.

“Belinda! What in the world are you doing here! Wait, I don’t care, I’m just so glad you’re here! Come, let’s go somewhere we can be private.”

“Izzy! You look ravishing! Please, let me catch my breath first.”

Izzy left her for a moment to fetch two goblets of wine, and shoved one into her cousin’s hand upon her return. “Drink this.”

With a grateful look, Belinda took a heavy swallow. Izzy finished her own drink, somewhat peevishly as she remembered Ram’s warning. Then she let Belinda lead her outside onto a terrace that looked over the privy garden and afforded as much privacy as was possible at court.

Izzy glanced around quickly to see if Ram noticed her, for he’d be furious if he saw her go outside, assuming she had an assignation in mind no doubt, but he and his odious friend had disappeared from where they’d stood minutes before.

When they were finally beyond the crush of people, Izzy hugged Belinda again. “What are you doing here?”

“Your parents came to London, presumably to reopen the townhouse, but if you ask me it was to make sure Ram found you safe and to assure themselves all was well.” Belinda gave her a reproving look. “You shouldn’t have used me the way you did to run off.”

Izzy hung her head. “I know. I’m sorry, Bel. I needed the extra days to get here before Ram.”

“And? Is everything finally settled between you two now?”

Tears burned Izzy’s eyes and she shook her head. “It’s dreadful! Worse than dreadful.” She sniffed. “Did you say Mama and Papa are here?”

A yearning for her parents she hadn’t felt since she was a young girl rose within her.
Will Papa ever forgive me?

“They are here tonight, but ‘tis not a good time to speak with them, in public like this, unless you want the entire court to know about your family strife. You don’t want to cause a scene to feed the gossipmongers. Why don’t you come to the townhouse tomorrow and see them, and then we can talk about what’s bothering you so.”

Izzy wanted that more than anything. She needed her cousin to help make sense of her situation. Belinda was so very good at that.

“I’ll come for supper, if you think Papa will be agreeable.”

“You’ll come by, even if he is not,” her cousin said in a tone that brooked no resistance, with a pat on Izzy’s hand. “Now, let’s go back inside before the gossips comment on your absence.”

Izzy’s relief almost crushed her. If anyone could help her sort out the mess she’d made, it was Belinda. Izzy led the way back inside, already with a lighter heart, plunging into the mad crush of people. Now that Belinda was at her side, Izzy meant to avoid Countess Castlemaine completely, but it seemed the woman had been waiting for her, for she motioned Izzy over as soon as they’d stepped back into the hall.

With a sigh, Izzy led Belinda toward the Countess. Barbara might be a snake, but it was always better to have the snake as a friend than an enemy.

“May I present to you my cousin, Miss Belinda Spencer?”

Barbara waved the introduction away, a smirk planted firmly on her face.

A gorgeous blonde woman had taken the place Izzy had so recently vacated, and Barbara looked from the woman to Izzy with an air of unsuppressed enjoyment.

“Have you met my very good friend, Louisa Hanover?”

Izzy shook her head, giving the newest addition her full attention. The woman towered over Izzy and had flawless porcelain skin, with full lips pouty and rouged, but not overly so. She was exquisite. She’d gowned her statuesque figure in emerald silk, a shade that matched her eyes. A tasteful strand of emeralds twinkled against her neck.

“Louisa, please allow me to introduce you to my newest friend, Isabelle, Lady Royston.”

The woman’s spine stiffened as she turned to fully take Izzy’s measure. Her green eyes flicked with mild interest from Izzy’s hair right down to her toes and then back again, stopping for one moment to focus on the sapphires at her throat. Louisa’s hand rose to her neck where she toyed with the beautiful emeralds, as if making a comparison. Instant dislike sparked in her unusual eyes.

How on Earth had she offended this unknown woman?

“I believe the two of you have an acquaintance in common?” Barbara’s eyes glittered with unsuppressed glee. Izzy grew instantly wary. She’d spent enough years amongst courtiers of all types and recognized the look on Barbara’s face. She was about to cause mischief, and she reveled in it. Someone was about to be caught unaware, and Izzy had an inkling it was she.

“Oh?” Izzy turned to Louisa, trying to affect an interested mien.

Instead, the woman turned to Barbara. “Darling, you know it’s uncouth to introduce a man’s mistress to his wife.”

Izzy went cold all over. This beautiful woman was—or had been— Ram’s mistress?

Jealousy skewered her, forced her chin to raise, her back to go ramrod straight. She would not let these women see how much the words rankled.

How like Barbara to deliberately fan the flames of malcontent for her own amusement.

But the Countess underestimated her adversary. Izzy would be damned before she ever let them get a rise out of her!

“No worries,
darling
.” Izzy affected their lazy drawl. She hadn’t spent the last decade living amongst courtiers and not learned how to play the court game. “A mistress is merely a woman a man deems too inconsequential to make his wife.” She spoke to Barbara, but the barb was aimed squarely at Louisa. “It takes a smart woman to win the real prize.” Izzy snapped her fan open, waving her wedding band in Louisa’s face.

The woman drew herself up to her full height. “A man has need of a mistress when his wife is frigid in the bedchamber.”

“I suppose you won’t be seeing very much of my husband in the near future, then.”

Fury flared in Louisa’s eyes, respect in Barbara’s.

“You didn’t
win
anything, darling. Poor Ramsay was forced into marriage by his father. Ram went to Cornwall every week for nearly a month, seeking any valid reason to call the wedding off.” Louisa smirked. “He told me all about it, each time he returned to London. La, I pity him. In the end he had to hold his nose and marry anyway.”

Izzy swallowed a cry of anguish. Each time Ram left her at the crofter’s hut, had he returned to London, to this woman’s arms, to ease the lust he never spent on her? Could it be true he wanted to find a way out of the betrothal, too? Was that before they met, or after? Had he talked to Louisa about
her?

Though she was suddenly sick inside, Izzy was determined to have the final say. Feeling as fragile as glass, she stood taller. “Anyone who thinks they know Ramsay Maitland but believes he could ever be forced to do anything against his will doesn’t truly know him at all.”

She forced her lips to curl into a smile. “In the end, despite our fathers’ previous agreement, Ram begged me to marry him, practically on bended knee.” Izzy clutched her fan to keep from trembling. They were beginning to make a scene and Izzy wanted nothing more than to escape these catty women and this place.

The blonde’s next retort was cut off when Belinda, standing almost forgotten, laid a hand on Izzy’s arm.

“Come, Izzy, we should seek your parents.”

Bless Belinda. As simply as that, she diffused the situation.

Izzy rose up to her full, albeit much shorter than Louisa’s, height. “If you’ll excuse me, my lady,” she spoke to the Countess, ignoring Louisa completely.

They left the presence of the women, but Izzy’s emotions were roiling so violently inside she was scarce aware of where Belinda led her, until she found herself back on the terrace, gasping in the fresh air in large draughts, with only one thought in her mind.
Was that odious woman Ram’s mistress, still?

“Don’t let them get to you, Izzy. Those women were only being spiteful, you know that.”

Izzy wasn’t so sure. Louisa certainly knew private details of their betrothal, What else had Ram told his mistress?

“What if it’s true, Belinda? What if he wanted to find a way out of the marriage as much as I did?”

Belinda hesitated. Izzy’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, Izzy. He did want out of the betrothal, but only until he discovered the woman he met on May Day was his betrothed. After that he was determined to have you, no matter what. And if you’d not made that confession to your father while Ram was in the study, I’ve no doubt he
would
have begged your forgiveness and your hand, on bended knee, just as you told that horrid woman.”

Izzy grabbed Belinda’s hand. “You are truly the best friend I could ever have.” Belinda smiled and squeezed back. Izzy took a deep breath. No matter what it took, she would put Barbara, Louisa, and all the rest of her woes out of mind until later, when she could be alone with her thoughts. Under no circumstances would she become overwrought at court, before everyone, and become the subject of speculation and gossip. “It’s so wonderful to see you. I’ve been so lost, so alone without you. I have no friends here. I’m so grateful you’re here, Bel.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

Izzy burst into tears.

Chapter 23

Belinda stared at Izzy with dismay. When was the last time she’d seen her cousin so miserable, so out of her element? Obviously, things were not going well at all.

Guilt niggled in her mind for pushing Izzy in this direction. The Baron might have thought Ramsay Maitland was the right man for his daughter, but now it appeared he’d been very, very wrong.

She took Izzy’s hand, placing the remainder of her own goblet of wine into it, urging Izzy to drink it, hoping to settle some of her cousin’s unease.

“Everything will be all right, Izzy, don’t fret. Those women were being spiteful for the sake of being mean.”

Izzy shook her head. “It’s not only them. It’s everything. It’s Ram, and Paul too. Did I tell you he’s here, at court?”

Belinda’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach. No wonder Izzy was so upset and unbalanced!

“You’ve not done anything inappropriate, have you?”

Izzy sniffled, before taking a sip of her drink. “Of course not.” She huffed.

“But you want to?” Belinda finished the unspoken sentiment.

Izzy’s tears began again. “Oh, Bel, I’m not sure. I thought I did, but it doesn’t feel right when I’m with Paul now. I’m not the woman he left three years ago, and I don’t know if he could overlook that. And even if I were, Ram won’t consider an annulment. I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re still trying to have Ram annul your marriage? Are you mad? You’ve been cohabitating in
London
. Think of the scandal! It would be immense if you annulled your marriage now!”

Izzy’s face flushed. “You’re always so worried about scandal, when that’s not what’s most important! I’m not mad, Bel. I
love
Paul. If Ram truly cared he’d not keep me trapped in this marriage.”

How blunt did she need to be in order to open Izzy’s eyes? Obviously, her cousin needed some sense shocked into her. “Is it any wonder then that Ramsay would keep a mistress, if his wife constantly avows her love for another man?”

“That’s cruel! I’ve deprived Ram of nothing.”

Belinda’s cheeks heated. “So you’ve given him access to the marital bed, whilst proclaiming love for another?” Consternation filled her. “Izzy, what have you done?”

Izzy’s face crumpled into tears anew. Her head shook, but she couldn’t speak. Belinda moved to take her into her arms, noticing how unsteady on her feet Izzy was.

“What’s amiss here?” Ram’s deep voice, laced with concern, invaded the silence as he stepped onto the terrace.

Before Belinda could answer, Izzy pushed herself away to face her husband. She hiccupped. “Everything is fine.”

He peered closely into her face. “Has she had too much to drink?” His question was aimed at Belinda, though his eyes never left Izzy’s face. Belinda read the concern reflected in his gaze and in that moment recognized a truth beyond any doubt.
Ram loves her.

Her spirits lifted. Mayhap everything wasn’t as dreadful as it first appeared. “It’s been a busy night, my lord.”

He frowned. “Why is she crying?”

Belinda no longer doubted Ram would take good care of Izzy. Sidestepping his question, she said, “she needs to be put to bed. Shall I take her home for you?”

He shook his head as he stepped to his wife’s side, wrapping a tender arm around her waist. “I’ll see her home.” Finally, he spared a look in her direction. “Thank you, Belinda.”

She nodded, watching as he led an unsteady Izzy off the balcony. Then she turned to face out into the garden, immersed in contemplation.

She’d never seen Izzy so unruffled before. So out of her element. Could she be experiencing feelings for Ramsay that had bloomed during their brief and unusual courtship before their marriage? That could be confusing enough to throw anyone off balance, especially if one thought they were in love with another man. It was most telling that Izzy hadn’t mentioned Paul’s presence until
after
the unpleasant encounter with that Louisa woman.

The more she thought about it, the more positive she became her suspicions were dead on. Hadn’t Izzy burst into tears mere moments after learning of Ram’s mistress? Belinda frowned. She would have a talk with Ram about that woman.

Hands landed on her hips from behind and she gasped, spinning around to see who dared touch her so familiarly. Dismay settled heavy in her belly as she found herself face to face with Paul Huntley.

“Belinda Spencer,” he purred, taking her fingers and bringing them to her lips. “You look lovelier than ever.”

She snatched her hand back. “What do you want?” she snapped.

“Come now, is that the way to greet an old friend you haven’t seen in years?” He stepped closer, crowding her.

“You are
not
my friend.”

“I could be.” he murmured. “The offer I made you the last time we saw one another still stands.”

“You reprehensible lout. My cousin fancies herself in love with you. Even if I didn’t find you repulsive, do you think I’d ever betray her like that?”

His eyes blazed at the insult. “Izzy need never know. Certainly, in the years that have passed you’ve come to know the touch of a man. I’d treat you well. You know you’ll never receive a better offer, and the chances you’ll ever snare a husband are slim. You’re no great beauty and you lack a dowry.”

She gasped at the insult. “Not if you were the last man left breathing on the planet.”

“Give me a chance to change your mind.” His hands descended again to settle on her waist, “come to my bed for one night and I guarantee you’ll beg for more come morning.” He yanked her so hard toward him, Belinda lost her footing. Before she could regain it and slip out of his grasp, he smashed his lips against hers.

What did Izzy see in this man?

He applied pressure to her lower jaw, trying to force her mouth open under his. Belinda shoved against him, panic settling in when she found herself struggling just to gain a breath.

And then, miraculously, he let her go abruptly.

“I believe the lady said she wasn’t interested, Huntley.”

Breathing heavily to draw much needed air back into her lungs, Belinda stepped back, wiping the back of her hand against her mouth, as if she could wipe away the unpleasant encounter. When she recovered her composure she looked up and found her champion was the man Ramsay had been conversing with earlier, when she interrupted him. Casting a grateful glance his way, she took another step away from Paul, closer to the man who’d intervened on her behalf. Any friend of Ramsay’s was trustworthy enough for her.

“I don’t think this is any business of yours, de Vere.”

“Is it not?” his lazy voice belied the stiffening of his body. Paul seemed not to notice, but Belinda could see the carefully controlled rage beneath the surface of the newcomer’s visage.

“Why don’t you go back inside and let me finish my business with the lady?” Paul drawled.

Her savior moved so quickly, Belinda yelped and jumped out of his way. Paul was taken unaware and in a trice found himself facing the wall, his right arm twisted behind his back.

“Perhaps you’d care to rethink that?”

Paul struggled for a moment, then went limp. “I don’t have any serious interest in the little bitch anyway, she’s a cold fish. You can have her.” Paul snapped.

De Vere dropped Paul’s arm and stepped back, shrugging his black doublet back into position over his impossibly wide shoulders.

For a moment, Paul’s eyes met hers, and she sucked in a hard breath, for his gaze promised retribution. But after another quick glance at her rescuer, Paul straightened his clothing and scampered back inside.

She breathed deeply, trying to recover her composure. After years spent in the various courts of Europe, she should be used to advances like that, but still, she was shaken. Paul had propositioned her before, but this was the first time he’d ever accosted her.

“Did he hurt you?” Her savior asked, his voice soft as he slowly approached. “Are you well?”

She nodded and met his stare. “I am well, thanks to you.” She studied his handsome face. The muscles in his jaw were still rigid, but his eyes were warm as they examined her. “You’re a friend of Lord Royston?”

He nodded, then bowed. “Lord Lucien De Vere. And you are Lady Royston’s cousin, Miss Spencer?” He stepped closer, tucking back a strand of hair that had come loose in her scuffle with Paul.

Discomfited by the familiar touch, she nodded.

“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to come outside like this alone? You’re inviting all manner of trouble. Not all men are gentlemen.”

Was he suggesting she had brought Paul’s unwanted advances upon herself? Normally a comment like that would send her temper soaring…except coming from him it threw her off kilter instead. The man’s nearness affected her terribly, making her confused and tongue-tied. The only time she’d ever felt like this before was when she’d found herself alone with Heath in the past. Thoughts jumbling together, she struggled to form a coherent sentence.

“Lord and Lady Royston were out here with me just moments ago. And I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. This is not my first visit to Court.”

His brilliant green eyes darkened. “From what I could see, you weren’t doing a very fine job of it.”

“Paul caught me off guard, that’s all.” Why did her voice sound so breathless? “I would have gotten the situation under control had you not happened along.”

“I see. So you truly think you’ve the experience to fend off a persistent rake, then?” He suddenly looked amused, and that both annoyed her and put her on alert.

“Paul is no rake, sir, but a predator. Either way, I think you overstep yourself. I am grateful for your assistance. ‘Tis much appreciated, but I need no further aid this evening.”

Merry green eyes twinkled back at her and the chiseled perfection of his face when he smiled made her breath hitch and her pique lessen. Which was wholly unfair.

“Grant me a small boon then, for the aid I did render.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded, suddenly not quite trusting him, despite his friendship with Ramsay. She didn’t trust herself, for that matter. “What would you ask?”

Within seconds she found herself pressed against the hard wall of the man’s chest, much the way Paul had done mere moments before. Except she wasn’t revolted by this man’s touch. Not at all. His hand swept around the curve of her waist, while the other lightly cupped her cheek, holding her firmly in place. His mouth pressed against hers, sweeping in a gentle motion from side to side, and then his tongue ran along the length of lips, nibbling lightly. She gasped in pure astonishment at his forwardness and he took advantage to slide his tongue further inside her mouth. For a few long moments she allowed herself the experience of the kiss, as their tongues slid wetly against each other. As if they’d developed a mind of their own her fingers curled in his doublet. She absorbed the unique feel and heat of the man kissing her so leisurely, felt the hard planes and angles of his muscular body pressing so intimately against hers, molding in perfect harmony against her own soft flesh.

And then the reality of the situation crept in to her fogged mind.

Shocked by her uninhibited behavior, she pushed against his massive chest to free herself from the now unwelcome embrace. But unlike Paul, Lord Lucien let her go instantly, stepping back to give her air.

His eyes sparkled with amusement, and it was the final straw. Her temper broke.

“Why is it men think they can force themselves on any woman they come across?”

She expected a retort, but he merely raised an eyebrow. That one facial movement spoke volumes. For they both knew he hadn’t forced anything upon her. Which made the situation even worse. She flushed.

Clarity dawned, and with it, a niggling pain in her chest. The whole point of the exercise had been to prove she couldn’t resist a persistent rake, then. And he’d been proven correct. The sudden awareness that their kiss had been nothing but a lesson was followed by stinging humiliation. She turned away before he could see the heat rising in her cheeks. “You sir, are no gentleman.”

As she stalked back inside, she heard his hearty chuckle. “I never claimed to be one, Miss Spencer.”

Her step faltered, but she forced herself on. She must have had too much to drink as well. It was time to find Izzy’s parents and beg them to take her home.

Later that night, lying in bed, the last thing Belinda saw in her mind’s eye before she let sleep claim her were dancing green eyes in a handsome face. And for once, it wasn’t Heath she dreamed of.

***

Fury ate at Paul like a festering wound. He’d been thwarted not once, but twice that day. He was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted, and he’d been denied both women he fancied in his bed.

How dare Miss Spencer look down a haughty nose at him? Like she was some highborn woman who could afford to be picky about her lovers? He was a step up for her, how dare she offend him as she had done?

And Izzy? He’d been patient for years, waiting on her to be married off so he could finally have her in his bed. Oh, he’d always known she had aspirations of becoming his wife, but he’d never had any intentions of making it so. Years of war had left Gerald Beaumont without a farthing to his name. When Paul wed, he would marry a woman who would replenish his own much needed money supply through her dowry.