Julia Justiss (30 page)

“Consider that a mild sample of what you’re owed, you miserable excuse for a gentleman. You should know that, after Waterloo, I’m not squeamish about seeing men die, nor do I possess as fine a sense of honor as Belle. If I ever see you again, I won’t wait to offer you a sword.”

Jack hauled the baron up and held him at arm’s length, pleased to note that his split lip and the bruise forming on his jaw had removed the arrogance from Rupert’s face. “If, before you take ship for the Caribbean, you have an urge
to reveal to anyone what occurred here, resist it. For if I hear a whisper of anything that transpired, there will be no hellhole on earth deep or dark enough to hide you from my wrath. Have I made myself clear?”

Though Rupert conceded nothing, after a moment he looked away from Jack’s unflinching gaze.

Jem entered with two stout footmen. “The coachman be harnessing the horses. We’ll see he gets in the buggy. You best go check on our lady.”

As they pulled him toward the door, Rupert jerked free of his captors to look back at Jack. “She’ll never have you now.” His lips stretching into a smile that died when it encountered the cut on his lip, the baron limped out.

Praying he could find some way to repair the damage Rupert’s visit had wrought, Jack took the stairs two at a time to Belle’s chamber.

H
ER OWN ROOM
was deserted. Jack continued down the hall, throwing open each door until he found her in the last bedroom. Seated at a dressing table, she was inspecting herself in the mirror—Jem’s bloody knife held in one bloodied hand.

His heart dropped to his boot tops and he knocked over a side table unlucky enough to be in his path as he rushed to her. “Belle, what have you done?”

The eyes that looked up at him, full of rage and pain when she fought Rupert, were now expressionless. Blood dripped steadily down her neck from three cuts she’d scored across the burned place beneath her ear.

He wanted to wrap her in his arms, but she thrust out a hand, warning him to approach no closer. “He knocked me
out, tied me down, violated me. Then he…he b-burned the mark of his signet ring into my neck. I could see the ‘R’ reflected in the mirror. I couldn’t b-bear it.”

Jack felt sickened to the depths of his soul. And if he, who was only hearing the story secondhand, felt repulsed, what must Belle be feeling?

“I can still kill him.”

She shook her head. “Were I not so weak, I should have done so. But killing him cannot undo what he’s done.”

He wanted to wail with anguish for her. But most of all, he wanted to cradle her to him, treasure the life that others had treated with such callous disregard.

“I’m sorry,” he began, pushing the words with difficulty out of his constricted throat, “that I wasn’t here when you needed me.”

For the first time since she saw him in the attic, her expression softened. Her eyes full of grief and regret, she said, “You could not have known.”

He stepped closer and again, she warned him away. “Don’t. I…I don’t think I can bear being touched.”

“Please, Belle, I
need
to hold you,” he said, the words ripped from the agony in his chest.

She must have seen the truth of it in his eyes, for with a tiny sigh, she made room for him on the bench. He threw himself down and gathered her in his arms, crushing her to him as tightly as he dared, his tears beading like diamonds in the gold of her hair.

At first stiff in his embrace, after a moment she relaxed, then clung to him, weeping silently while he held her, wanting never to let her go.

Afraid of what would happen when he had to let her go.

All too soon, she straightened and pushed him away. “Thank you. I guess I needed comfort more than I knew.”

“Give me the right to comfort you always. Marry me.”

She smiled sadly. “Once there might have been a chance for us. But this—” she pointed to her neck “—this changes everything.”

“Why should it? I told my mother I intend to marry you, and she will support us. My sister will be wed at the Season’s end. Why can we not marry immediately after?”

“The ton might—
might
—forgive Bellingham’s mistress, were she well born enough and supported by sufficiently influential friends. But to excuse my having been Bellingham’s whore and
Rupert’s?
” She shook her head. “I would not have you dragged down by my degradation.”

“No one need learn of what happened here.”

She sniffed scornfully. “As no one learned about Vauxhall? Oh, I do not doubt you threatened Rupert, but he brought a dozen servants. You cannot silence them all. Besides, this mark will shout out the news, were you to cut out the tongue of everyone who was present.”

“I cannot perceive the outline of a letter now. As the burn heals, the skin will wrinkle. No one will know.”

“
I
will know,” she said simply.

He knew his arguments were failing, could almost feel her slipping away. While he cudgeled his brain to find some new line of appeal, she said softly, “Could you really stand to live with me, knowing your wife had been taken by that…degenerate?”

He could scarcely bear the thought of it—because of her
anguish, not his. “’Twas an abomination you resisted with everything at your command. I can move past it.”

“I’m not sure
I
can. When you were here, you taught me to see loving in a new way, as something pure, giving, tender.” She paused, wrapping her arms around herself as her gaze trailed off to the far distance. “Now all I remember is the ropes burning my wrists and the—the stink of Rupert on my body. I don’t know if I will be able to allow anyone to touch me intimately ever again—even you.”

“Then I won’t touch you. My pledge, my first pledge to you, still holds. I will never take anything that you do not gladly give.”

She shook her head impatiently. “Leaving aside that you deserve a wife you can be proud of, you owe your family an heir. I couldn’t promise to let you provide one.”

“I have cousins in whom I have full confidence.”

She rose and walked away, one hand rubbing absently at the raw marks the ropes had cut into her wrists. “You are a stubborn man, Jack Carrington.”

“Do you still love me, Belle?”

She halted, looked back at him. For a long moment she said nothing, and his spirits sank. If Rupert had managed to crush every tender feeling in her, Jack might have to kill the bastard after all.

“How could I help loving you?” she said a moment later. “You who are everything that is good and honorable and noble in this world.”

“Then for the love of God, Belle, marry me!”

“How can I claim to love you and allow you to marry a woman who would force you into a lifetime of exile
from decent society, one whose name is a byword for carnality?”

“Is society’s respect so important to you?”

“You are frustrated now—and you desire me. But later, when lust fades, you will thank me for saving you from throwing away your honor and the position of esteem you now occupy. Here in our own private heaven, Jack, we shared a beautiful dream. Don’t ruin it by trying to make it into something it can never be. Leave me at least that.”

“We can make that dream a reality if you’ll just marry me,” he insisted.

Suddenly the strength seemed to leave her and she swayed on her feet. He ran to catch her, but she pushed him away and staggered to the bed. “Please, I cannot bear any more. If you love me, grant me one request.”

Tight-jawed, fearing what she would ask, he replied, “What?”

“Go. Leave me now and don’t come back.”

For a long moment he stood irresolute, but he had barraged her with every argument he could muster and still she resisted. More than that, he could see she was exhausted, physically and mentally driven to her limits.

“Very well, I’ll go. I cannot promise not to return.”

She nodded, as if that were concession enough for now.

On the threshold, he hesitated. “Shall I send Mae and Watson back to you?”

Her lips trembled and she blinked back tears. “I would appreciate that,” she said, her voice a whisper.

Jack swept her a bow. “Then goodbye, my love.” Grimly he strode from the room.

T
OO DRAINED TO MOVE
, Belle lay back, watching dust motes dance in the sunlight now pouring through the chamber windows. ’Twas only midmorning of a very fair day.

The day her hopes died.

’Twas partly her own fault, she supposed. She had underestimated Rupert’s cunning and his malice. She would pay for that lapse the rest of her life.

Thank heaven Jack had granted her request. She wasn’t sure she could have resisted much longer, as vehemently as she believed everything she’d told him. All she need do now was remain steadfast. In a month or a year, he would weary of her continued refusals. Some pretty, charming, well-bred girl would catch his fancy, one whose impeccable lineage would make her a suitable bride.

Then he would bless her for saving him from taking a wife who brought him nothing, not even the promise of performing on him the arts she was reputed to possess.

While she…She had a sudden vision of life stretching before her, an endless void of loneliness and regret. She wouldn’t think about that yet.

Kitty would be safe. Jack would find happiness elsewhere. That would have to be enough.

She let herself sink toward the blessed oblivion of sleep. Later, when she woke, she’d order that her own bedchamber be stripped and everything in it, furniture and all, be burned. She’d dress her wounds and soak in a bath, the water as hot as she could stand it.

But she didn’t think she would ever feel clean again.

A
FTER LEAVING
B
ELLEHAVEN
, Jack stopped at the first decent posting inn, engaging a chamber and sleeping through the rest of that day and the following night. Since he’d told his mother before leaving Dorrie’s party that he wasn’t sure when he’d be back, there was no need to hurry. Feeling better after his slumbers, he set out again.

During his long hours on horseback, he pondered ways to solve the dilemma with Belle. While he ached for her pain and understood her reasoning, he wasn’t about to simply let her go. So after arriving the following morning, he went straightaway to ask his mother’s advice.

“Jack!” she cried as he entered her study. “What a pleasant surprise! I hope this means all went well at Bellehaven…” Her words trailed off as she studied his face. “It did not, did it?”

For a moment the images ran through his mind: Belle’s cold, expressionless eyes; the bleeding burn beneath her ear; Rupert’s triumphant face as he was led away. “No, Mama. It did not go well.” In a few concise sentences, he told her what had transpired.

Though she gasped when he relayed what Rupert had done, she did not interrupt. After he finished, she remained
silent, obviously pondering what he’d told her. “Do you still want her?” she asked at last.

“Still want her?” he echoed angrily, stung by the repetition of Belle’s question to him. “How can you, another woman, ask me that? None of it was her fault!”

“Calm yourself,” she soothed. “Of course
I
don’t blame her. But many men would—’tis the way of the world. Although I reluctantly agree ’twould be best not to urge Belle to press charges, every feeling revolts against letting Rupert escape the consequences of his acts.”

Jack smiled bitterly. “Oh, I believe the consequences will be severe enough. Rupert, a creature of London, forever banned from returning to England? Forced to live the rest of his days among ill-bred colonials and a handful of natives? Did I not feel that retribution worse than death, I would kill him myself. I will be tempted to do it yet…if he has crippled Belle’s spirit so severely that she will never consider my suit.”

“She feels strongly about the damage wedding her might do to your position, does she not?”

“Yes, much as I’ve tried to convince her that does not matter to me. I want to spend my life with her, if we have to flee to the Outer Hebrides to do it.”

“I don’t believe anything that drastic will be required. I can’t help you with the…other thing—” his mother’s face hardened and Jack knew she was recalling what Rupert had done “—but there is a good deal I can do about
Belle’s
standing in society.”

For the first time since leaving her, Jack’s spirits brightened. “Tell me how!”

“After checking several sources, I discovered that the Germaynes possess some very influential relations.”

“Indeed! And you would nose that about town?”

His mother gave him a reproving look. “As if I were some jumped-up Cit trying to pander influence? Certainly not! No, I shall call upon the lady of the family, apprise her in confidence of the facts, and what she chooses to do then is up to her. However, gossip mill that the ton is, society will probably winkle out the relationship eventually. If after a suitable interval the family makes no move to embrace Belle, I might have to let slip what a shame I think it that Lady Belle endured what she did, given that her mother is cousin to Lord Cowper’s aunt.”

“Cousin to the aunt of Lady Cowper?” Jack burst out laughing. “Are you sure?”

“My dear, ’tis too important a matter for jesting.”

“Should Lady Cowper choose to support Belle, acceptance would be nearly assured. You think she might?”

His mother shrugged. “Emily Lamb was ever a dear, clever girl, and is now thought to be quite the nicest of Almack’s Patronesses. I believe she might take up Belle’s cause. Even if she does not, few among the ton would want to risk slighting a relation of the Cowpers.”

“Brilliant, Mama.”

His mother gave him a regal nod. “Thank you, my dear. I like to think not all of strategy for which you were mentioned in the dispatches came from your dear papa.”

Jack’s excitement faded a bit. “If this gambit doesn’t succeed, your open support of Belle could still tarnish your reputation—and Dorrie’s.”

“’Tis possible. Dorrie and James must decide for themselves what they wish to do. As for me, if one cannot employ the assets one has to the benefit of one’s children, what good are they?”

Jack kissed her hand. “Mama, you are a marvel.”

She grinned at him. “I did produce two rather excellent offspring, did I not?”

A knock sounded at the door and Dorrie peeped in. “Jack, I thought ’twas your voice I heard!” Entering the room, she continued, “Mama explained why you left the party so abruptly. I do hope your errand prospered!”

“Not yet, poppet. But Mama and I are working on it.”

“I wish to offer my support, as well.”

“That’s generous of you, little sister, but you needn’t risk your reputation. Nothing shall be done until you are wed. I don’t want my choices to taint your life—or to cause problems between you and your betrothed.”

“It will not. As soon as Mama apprised me of what had transpired, I informed James. I told him I wouldn’t marry him unless he could willingly support my family in this.”

“And he agreed?” Jack asked, impressed, amused and touched by his sister’s staunch support.

“Naturally.”

“He must love you very much—little tyrant!”

Dorrie smiled. “He does. I had only to bid him imagine what it would be like, were we to be parted with no chance of marriage, for him to understand how you feel about your Belle. I convinced him to confide in his papa, and though he vowed to wed me regardless of whether his sire approved what you plan, after hearing Lady Belle’s
story, the earl announced that they would stand with us. The Winstons, you may recall, are cousins to the Ancasters and the Howards. Given our own connection to the Wentworths, the Sudleys and the Beauvales, we’re already a fair way to conquering the ton, don’t you think?”

Jack gave his sister a hug. “Thank you, poppet! I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

She hugged him back. “As if I would
ever
give up my big brother! Family is everything, Jack.”

“Grateful and humbled as I am by your support, ladies, I must warn you that, even if you succeed in establishing Belle, she…she still may refuse to marry me. From the first she’s emphasized how much she prizes the independence she has won. And after this last episode, she has reason enough to be wary of men.”

His mother gave him a thoughtful look. “You do want to do this, regardless of whether or not she accepts you?”

“Of course!”

His mother patted his hand. “Then let us begin. You can worry about persuading her later.”

O
N A LATE-SPRING
morning a month later, Belle rode out to inspect the fields at Bellehaven. Grain waved its emerging tassels in the freshening breeze, while vegetables in the kitchen gardens grew in a collage of green and blossom hues. Belle found a small measure of peace in the eternal rhythm of germination, growth and harvest.

The supportive presence of Watson and Mae—Jack must have dispatched them the instant he arrived in London—and the passage of time were helping to heal her
wounded spirit as it had the scrapes and bruises on her body. Only the still-tender flesh beneath her ear had not yet completely recovered. But although even her critical eye could not now discern within the puckered scar the outline of an “R,” she thought she must feel it carved on her soul forever.

She’d pulled up her mount to speak with one of the farmers, when a pony cart careened toward her. A moment later, Jem brought the vehicle to a skidding halt.

Impressed as she was by his skill at the ribbons, she was about to reprove his recklessness, when he cried, “You needs come back. A powerful lot of visitors done arrived!”

Though her pulse leapt at the news, she immediately steadied it. If Jack were calling, the boy would have said so. “Who is it, Jem? I’m not expecting company.”

“Don’t rightly know, my lady, but one of ’em be that silver-haired gent who visited you in Lunnon.”

“Lord Egremont?”

“I expect so. You best go entertain ’em.”

Not Jack. But then, she didn’t expect Jack. They had nothing to say that hadn’t already been said. Egremont, however, would provide a pleasant and much safer diversion.

“I’ll go make myself presentable. Please tell Lord Egremont and his party that I will join them shortly.” As she rode back, she wondered who Egremont had brought with him. Agents from the Jarvis case, perhaps?

A half hour later, her riding habit exchanged for a morning gown, she walked into the parlor—and stopped short. By the hearth, conversing with Egremont, stood Jack.

Shock and a painful mix of emotions—gladness, sorrow, regret, resignation—held her immobile. While she hesitated, Egremont came to her. “Belle! I’m relieved to see you looking so well. You had a…difficult time of it. I’m so sorry I failed to send Carrington soon enough.”

Though Jack had yet to approach or speak to her, simply having him in the same room made it difficult for her to concentrate. “It—it wasn’t in any way your fault.”

“You are too gracious. Nothing can make amends for your suffering, but we have news that, I hope, will please you. The captain has discovered new information that leads us both to believe it is time for you to return to London—and resume your proper place in the world.”

“My proper place?” Belle repeated. “But how—”

“No questions yet! We’ve brought someone who will explain it all. Carrington, if you’ll do the honors?”

A tall lady, who in her agitation Belle hadn’t noticed, rose from the sofa. A lady whose dark hair and familiar eyes immediately identified her as Jack’s mother.

Jack’s mother.
Here at Bellehaven. For an instant, Belle thought she must be hallucinating.

“L-Lady Anne,” Belle stammered, pulling herself together. “What a wholly unexpected honor!”

“A pleasure to meet you, too, Miss Germayne. Jack, Lord Egremont, since we’ve made our own introductions, perhaps you could amuse yourself with a game of billiards or a stroll about the lawn while we chat?”

“I believe we’ve been dismissed,” Egremont said dryly.

“As you wish, Mama,” Jack said. His gaze moved to Belle and lingered, triggering the automatic, immediate
connection that always crackled between them and squeezing her chest with an anguished yearning. “Belle,” he said softly, making of her name a caress. “Until later.”

After the men exited, Lady Anne turned to Belle. “It must be very disconcerting, having your home invaded in such a manner! But I hope to shortly explain everything.”

Lady Anne gestured to the sofa. Still numb with shock and confusion, Belle obediently took a seat.

“When Jack confided to me what had befallen you after your mother’s death,” Lady Anne began, “I was as outraged as he, and pledged to help him right the wrong that had been done you. I commenced trying to determine whom we might call upon to support us—and discovered your mother to be a distant cousin to Earl Cowper, whose wife, Emily, you may know, is both Lord Melbourne’s daughter and a Patroness.”

“Indeed! I had no idea of the connection. Though quite honestly, I cannot see what difference that makes, as I am a stranger to them and likely to remain so.”

“Come now, child, you are a relation, however remote! Forgive me, but I took the liberty of confiding your story to Lady Cowper—a discerning and compassionate woman. She is anxious to meet you and offer her assistance. I believe she means to sponsor your introduction into society.”

Belle stared at Lady Anne, not daring to believe such a reversal of fortune might be possible. “But how could she hope to win me acceptance, when all the ton knows I was Lord Bellingham’s mistress?”

“Miss Germayne, be her birth high or low, no woman
can fail to recognize the absolute control men exercise over her life in matters of law, marriage and finance. In one area only do we ladies rule—determining who will be admitted into society. If Lady Cowper supports you, the other Almack Patronesses will, as well. Add to them Lord Egremont and his connections, plus those of our own family, and you have already won over nearly half the ton.”

“But what of Lord Rupert?” Belle asked, her hand unconsciously rising to the scar at her throat.

Lady Anne sniffed. “You needn’t worry. Apparently he was heavily involved in a scandalous scheme to traffic in young girls, and escaped arrest when he returned to London only by bribing a jarvey to drive him to the docks, where he bought passage on the first ship leaving port. As for the scar, I brought you this.” Lady Anne reached into her reticule and pulled out a pearl-beaded choker. “I wasn’t sure of the size, but your maid can adjust it. Try it on, my dear. Ah, only wait until you see yourself in your glass! I predict you will start a new fashion.”

Belle fingered the necklace Lady Anne had hooked around her neck, knowing by touch that it completely covered the scar. “I hardly know what to say.”