Virtue and Vice (9 page)

But Holy God, her passion!
Never had he taken a woman to bed who’d responded to his touch with such unrestrained inhibition. She possessed such innate sensuality, and it was headier than any wine ever to get him soused. She was nothing like he expected when he’d imagined his faceless bride. She was
sweet
for Chrissakes, utterly adorable, as well as sensual. She’d turned his entire world upside down in a matter of days. And he wasn’t sorry for it!

She shifted against him and he glanced at her face, noticing her muscles had relaxed as she dozed against him. Protectiveness the likes of which he’d never felt before rose and he swore then he’d do anything to protect this woman.

He frowned, thinking of the wedding day to come. She wasn’t going to be happy when she discovered this deception. But hopefully, in the weeks leading up to that day he’d bind her to him with sensuality and desire, and perhaps even love, and that would lessen the sting. God knew he was half in love with her already. They would weather the storm and someday look back on these days with fondness and humor.

Oh Lord, the irony of it all! A handful of days ago he’d wanted nothing more than to find a way to avoid being leg shackled to this woman. Now he wanted her as his wife more than he’d ever imagined wanting any woman. And suddenly, their chance meeting seemed like a stroke of luck. Instead of the cold, uncomfortable meeting that no doubt would have taken place if they’d met as strangers on their wedding day, he now had a chance to court her, without the usual restrictions and expectations. And he’d have the chance to earn her trust, to initiate his bride gently into lovemaking, assuring that she’d have no qualms in their bedchamber, that she’d find no fear in any act between them, that she’d experience no shame in anything that brought them mutual pleasure.

He’d promised Belinda he would leave Izzy’s virginity intact until their wedding night, but at this rate, he wouldn’t last another day. His body screamed for release, and not just from any woman. His body needed hers. She called to him like a siren, and he wouldn’t be able to resist much longer, no matter the nobility of his intentions.

When she woke, he’d invent an excuse that would take him away for a few days, put some distance between them. It was for the best.

Chapter 8

It was the worst thing that could have happened!

As Julian had brought her back to the riverbank after the earth shattering experience in the small hut, he’d told her he would be gone from the county for days, perhaps even as long as a se’nnight!

Seven days?
She didn’t have seven days! The infernal wedding was less than three weeks away and her virginity still very much intact. Her already desperate situation was now frantic.

As she walked home alone, thoughts tumbled through her mind in rapid succession. She could venture into town and find another man willing to do the deed.

Yet that somehow felt unfair to Julian. The thought made her gasp in despair. Her faithfulness shouldn’t be pledged to Julian, but to Paul, dear, dear Paul. Whom she loved with all her heart.

But, Oh, God. She didn’t feel guilt for betraying Paul when she was with Julian. She didn’t think of Paul at all.

She meandered along the riverbank towards the manor house. Paul had been gone so long. But her love for him burned just as bright as when she’d last seen him, though it grew harder to conjure the memory of his face the more days that went by.

Oh, Paul
, she sighed, as she picked up a rock and skipped it across the waters of the River Camel.
Where are you?
Parliament, under the leadership of General Monck, had invited the king to reclaim his country over a year ago, yet Paul had not yet returned.

Izzy had been so young when the Civil War arrived almost literally at their garden gate and become reality. Until then her father had remained neutral, hoping the political crisis between King and Parliament might be resolved without bloodshed.

But war came to Cornwall when Cromwell himself, with his troop of dragoons and fighting men, came to take Wadebridge, so close to Rendstell Manor. But things had calmed again with the winding down of the first Civil War.

When war broke out again a year later, Izzy’s father decided it was too dangerous for them to remain in their home in Cornwall, especially since her eldest brothers had once again fought for Charles. Parliament had granted Loyal Royalists from the first civil war parole in exchange for their oath not to take up arms again. During the second Civil War, Cromwell was swift to execute any Royalists who’d disregarded that oath.

Once King Charles was beheaded, her father made the strategic decision to send Izzy, her mother, and Belinda to France where there was more stability, to stay with relatives of her mother. Then, two of Izzy’s brothers had fought with the new King Charles at Worcester, but the royalist forces had met with defeat. The government seized Papa’s lands and exile had been the only viable option. Her father claimed it was his preference anyway, as he wouldn’t live under the command of the religious zealot who set about turning England into a nation held captive to Cromwell’s God.

So many other Royalist exiles ended up abroad during the long years of Cromwell’s reign, following Charles and his ragtag court from Jersey, to St. Germain, and finally to Breda. The forced banishment from England was hard for them all and rumors of various uprisings were always whispered about, and indeed, Prince Rupert commanded troops made up of English exiles in the French army, ever looking for an opportunity to reclaim England for their poverty-stricken King without a country. Izzy’s father invested nearly every pence he had for the cause of restoring the monarchy. Her brothers were instrumental in both fighting and ferreting information to and from the King and his advisors during the interregnum. Life became exciting, but uncertain.

It was during their stay in France she had met Paul for the first time. To a young girl of just ten years, he’d seemed an Adonis with his golden looks and his kindness. He’d often snuck her sweets and told her jokes to make her laugh.

Yet, as she’d grown, to Izzy’s absolute delight, he’d looked at her differently. Instead of indulging her as a child, he’d treated her like a woman. A woman he’d clearly desired. His gentle teasing and thoughtful gifts turned into lingering glances and sweet caresses.

She’d been eighteen. He’d been off on the King’s business and she hadn’t seen him in quite a while. The night he returned, he had taken her for a walk in the privy garden. Her father had turned a blind eye, probably because they’d known each other so long and he trusted Paul to behave.

And he had. Well, except for the less than chaste kiss he’d given her that evening in a darkened corner. A kiss that made it apparent he’d begun to court her with marriage in mind. She’d adored him as a child, but as a woman, she loved him fiercely. From that moment on, she belonged to Paul. She’d lived to see him during those stolen moments between his travels, lived for his kisses, lived for every bit of attention he gave her.

So how could she have these feelings for Julian now? She couldn’t have developed serious affection for him, for they barely knew each other. And he was not of her class, he was forbidden to her, even if she decided she wanted him. Which she never would, because she loved Paul.

Not quite ready to return to Rendstell manor and face Belinda’s inquiries, Izzy strolled along the riverbank until she found a dry spot upon which to sit and contemplate.

She conjured up an image of Paul the way he’d looked when last she’d seen him. He’d been dressed in the full regalia of a true Cavalier, with his petticoat breeches, over stockings tucked into his black cavalier boots and an outrageous purple doublet, complete with a cap adorned with a large feather. Yet, Izzy had never seen anyone more spectacular, no man more handsome.

Paul, as a younger son of a nobleman, didn’t have much money, no inheritance to speak of, as most nobles had spent their money on the Royalist cause. Paul had fought for Charles, yes, because he was loyal, but too, it was widely expected Charles would handsomely reward all those who had remained loyal when he was restored.

Paul no longer wished to wait. After almost a decade of exile, it began to look as though Charles was never going to claim his throne. The King’s cousin, Prince Rupert, had sailed off to the West Indies as a buccaneer, and Paul wished to follow his example. Under Rupert he would prey on English shipping interests, take what money he could right from the grasp of Cromwell’s coffers, make investments, and establish some kind of fortune for himself. The night he told her the news, Izzy was heartbroken.

“Don’t cry, Ma Petite, I’ll not be gone long,” he took her hand, wrapping his warm fingers around hers.

“But you’ll be in such danger!”

He chuckled. “No more than I face now, looked upon as a traitor by my own country. And I swear, should the King be restored, I’ll come home with all haste.”

She was afraid to ask the question burning at her day and night, for he’d courted her, but never said the words. She forced the question from her lips. “Will we marry when you return?”

He didn’t answer, but tightened his grip on her hands. “Right now I have nothing to my name, Izzy. Nothing to offer a woman as fine as you. I’m going after Rupert to make a fortune for myself. And do you know what I’ll do with that fortune when I return?”

She shook her head in breathless anticipation. “Nay, what will you do?”

“I shall buy you your very own house, anywhere you desire. We will live in luxury and I will buy you only the very best money can buy.”

Her heart soared. He did want to marry her! He just didn’t feel worthy of her without a fortune to stand behind.

“Paul, I don’t care if we live as paupers as long as we are together. You don’t need to go off and do this for me!”

“Ah, my sweet,” he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are every man’s most fervent dream. But I need to do this for myself, as well.”

She began to argue again, but he silenced her with a finger over her lips. “I must go, Izzy. And the time will fly by, you’ll see. Will you wait for me?”

Holding back tears, she cried, “You know I will wait for you forever!”

“That’s a good girl.” He smiled and his eyes dropped to her mouth. His voice turned husky. “Give me a goodbye kiss, then.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and standing on her tiptoes, leaned up to fuse her mouth to his. She put all the love and adoration she felt for him into that kiss, hoping he would remember it when he was lonely. Hoping it would speed him back to her someday soon.

And then he left, leaving her shattered.

King Charles had been restored, yet Paul had not returned.
Why?
her anguished heart whispered. Could it be he no longer wanted her? That his absence was deliberate?

A twig snapped, drawing her out of her bittersweet memories. She whipped about to find Belinda standing behind her.

“Are you well, Izzy?” Belinda’s voice was soft with worry.

“I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

Belinda lowered herself to the grass beside her.

“I’m so confused, Bel.”

“Has something happened?” Her cousin looked concerned.

“Julian must go away for a few days. And already the thought of not seeing him tomorrow makes me miserable.”

It almost looked as if Belinda was suppressing a smile. That couldn’t be right, surely?

“’Tis only a few days, that can’t be what’s got you so upset?”

“How is Julian to take my virtue if he isn’t here?”

Izzy gave in at the look of disbelief that crossed Belinda’s face. “Fine! It’s Paul I’m keep thinking of how disloyal I’ve been to Paul! I shouldn’t miss any man
but
Paul.” 

Her cousin sighed, and Izzy wasn’t sure if it was because Belinda was reminded of their uncomfortable conversation of yesterday, or for other reasons. “Izzy, you haven’t seen Paul in nearly three years now. Perhaps he won’t return. Will you pine for him for the rest of your days, then?”

“He promised he’d return. He’s always kept his promises to me. And I promised I would wait for him.” She picked a piece of grass out of the ground, tearing it into pieces with her fingers.
What if Belinda is right? What if Paul doesn’t come back to me?

“You’ve changed so very much during these years, Izzy. What if Paul has too? What if it’s not love you still feel for him, but affection and obligation? What then?”

Could she have stopped loving Paul? Her eighteen-year-old self would have answered with an emphatic no. But now? Could she feel such excitement and attraction to Julian if she was still in love? With no answer apparent, she shrugged.

“Well, your Julian is very handsome. And, ‘tis not so unusual to feel strongly about someone you are close to, even if you love someone else.”

“But that seems so disloyal!”

“Usually I’d say ‘tis only disloyal if you act on those feelings. But that’s your exact intent in this instance, so in a way one might say you are being disloyal. But you have no plans to continue to see Julian once he’s taken your virtue. You’ll be absolved of your obligation of the marital contract to the viscount, and there would be no reason to carry on with Julian.”

Izzy started. If she no longer had to marry Viscount Royston, she’d have no further need to see Julian. Though it shouldn’t, the idea of it dismayed her, confusing her all the more.

“Am I being disloyal, Bel?” she whispered, afraid to know the answer.

“Do you have a choice? If marrying Paul is your ultimate goal, then continuing with Julian seems the best way forward, does it not? You might feel disloyal for a time, but in the end you’ll gain what you truly desire. I’m certain of it.” Belinda put her hand over Izzy’s, stopping her from obliterating more grass.

Izzy stared in surprise. “You think I should continue with my plan then?”

Belinda sighed. “Nay. I wish you would acquiesce to your father’s wishes and marry the viscount. I’d also have you trust me, because I believe in the end you’ll be very happy with the man your father chose for you. But knowing you as I do, I know you will not, and I only want you to be happy. Take the opportunity to find your happiness, Izzy.”

The weight of the world seemed lifted from Izzy’s shoulders with Belinda’s support. She threw her arms around her surprised cousin and hugged her tight, giggling with her when they fell back onto the grass together.

“Does that mean you will help me?” Izzy asked, breathless, when they stopped laughing and rose to their feet.

“I will aid you.”

“You’ll never truly know how much I appreciate you, Bel.”

Chapter 9

Two weeks until the wedding…

It was going to be a miserable couple of weeks. Surely Ram wouldn’t be sane by the time his wedding day came round.

He’d only managed to stay away from Cornwall for a se’nnight. Only seven days. One agonizing week during which thoughts of Izzy had haunted him, making him long to be back here in the country, in that cottage, trapped with her for hours on that small pallet, laughing and talking and making love to her. He felt a need to brand himself upon her, make such an impression upon each of her senses she’d have no notion of hunting up another rogue willing to defile her before their wedding day.