The House of Happiness (20 page)

“W-who is there?” she called fearfully.

The Marquis stepped into the room from the corridor. Eugenia rose with a cry.

The Marquis apologised. “I am sorry to have startled you,” he said. “I knocked but you did not hear.  As the bolt was not drawn I made so bold as to enter.”

His tone was considerably less severe than when they had last met and Eugenia felt bewildered.

“You said – you had no wish to communicate with me.” The Marquis nodded gravely. “Indeed I did. But – I received a visitor this afternoon who made me realise that you and I had – unfinished business.” Eugenia could not read his expression.

“You mean Bridget?”

The Marquis inclined his head again.

“Yes.  I have agreed not to press charges.”

“I am glad of that.”

The Marquis regarded her, his head a little to one side.

“I truly believe you are. Yes.  You have a – generous if too impulsive heart.”

“You have not come here to offer me guarded compliments, surely?”

“No. I – have items of yours that I thought I should return.” Eugenia began to feel alarmed. “What are they?”

“This is the first. This and its contents.”  

The Marquis withdrew an object from his waistcoat and threw it on the table. Eugenia froze. It was her reticule, in which lay the three letters that she had received from Gregor.  She raised anguished eyes to the Marquis.

“You – you know what is inside?”

“I regret to say I do.”

Trembling, Eugenia opened the reticule and withdrew the letters. She held them out in her fist to the Marquis.“You have – read them?”

“Madam, I – know what they – “

“That was – ungallant of you,” she cried, taking him to mean he had indeed read them. “And it is ungallant, sir, to throw them at me now, when you have already pronounced sentence upon me. What further punishment do you wish to inflict?”

“I have not yet considered the matter of – punishment,” murmured the Marquis.

Eugenia, breast heaving with anguish, lifted her chin. “You said that item was the first.  What is the second?”

The Marquis hesitated. “I have it – in the corridor.  I will bring it in.”

Eugenia watched him as he left the room. Wracked with remorse and shame, she tightened her fist on the letters. The Marquis returned and as her eyes settled on the object he carried under his arm, the blood drained from her cheeks.

Although it was wrapped in a white cloth, she was sure that this was the portrait that Gregor had painted of her.

“I thought you would want it,” said the Marquis simply.

She could bear his taunts no more. Rushing forward, she seized the canvas from him and, spinning on her heel, hurled it into what remained of the fire.

“You do not want to even look at it?” cried the Marquis.

“No. No. I do not. And I do not want to look at these either.”  Angrily she tossed the letters as well into the flickering tongues of flame. “I want nothing of that man, nothing. I do not want to remember him or what a fool I have made of myself. “

Taking up a poker, she stabbed at the portrait, trying to push it further down into the fire. Nothing would do but that it should be consumed to ashes. Once she was certain that it would indeed burn, she flung the poker aside and turned defiantly to the Marquis, who had stood silent all the while.

“So. Punish me then as you wish. I no longer care.”

“No?” The Marquis strode forward and seized her roughly in his arms. “You do not care if I punish you –
thus
?”

She gasped as he plunged his fingers into her hair and, drawing back her head so that her face was tilted up to his, pressed furious kisses onto her lips.

“And thus – and thus – and thus – ” he repeated.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“I am taking what is mine!” the Marquis replied. “I have been half mad with jealousy since the moment I realised you were falling under the spell of another man. I thought patience and kindness would win you.

“I thought all would be well once we were married but your tears on our wedding night showed me otherwise. Then you ran away.  

“My agony was intense. It was even more intense when I understood the character of the man for whom you had left me. The kind of man who I was sure would force you to his will as I should have forced you to mine.

“As I
will
force you, my darling.”

With a groan he lowered his head once again to hers, taking her lip between his teeth until it bled.

A thrill swept through Eugenia's veins such as she had never experienced. As hard as the Marquis's heart pounded beneath his shirt, her heart pounded harder.  

“M-my lord,” she panted, falling against his breast.

“Yes, your Lord, Eugenia, as you are my Lady.” She looked up at him with troubled eyes.

“But – surely you are mocking me? How can you want me when you believe that – that I was – that man's creature?”

Struggling to restrain his passion, the Marquis held her face in his hands.

“I wronged you, my sweetheart. Bridget has told me all.”

Eugenia began to tremble with relief. “All?”

“Yes.  I longed to fly to you there and then. Only one fear held me back.”

“What fear was that?” whispered Eugenia.

“That you were still in love with a dead man. I did not actually read his letters, my darling, but Bridget outlined their contents to me and I understood the force of his charm. It was all too likely that you still harboured a passion for him. Your reaction just now to those very letters – and to the portrait – convinced me otherwise. Your heart may not be mine – yet – but it is at least free.”

“No.” Eugenia shook her head. “It is not free, my Lord, for it is all yours. I believe it has been yours all along, but I was too foolish to understand the signs.”

The Marquis held her at arm's length.  “The signs?”

“My jealousy, for one thing – when you seemed to favour Lady Walling.”

The Marquis began to laugh. “But I never favoured Lady Walling.  It was just that she knew my father and uncle. She is a tiresome woman to whom I feel I owe a certain level of courtesy.”

“But – but Bridget said that you and she were – lovers.”

“Oh, my sweet foolish girl!” The Marquis exclaimed. “Have you not guessed that she lied in order to more successfully press Gregor Brodosky's suit?”

Of course. Eugenia could not believe she had been so blind. With a cry she fell again into the Marquis's open arms. Now for the first time she was truly his. For the first time she felt the passion that once she had only imagined pulse through her blood.

Her whole body shuddered at his touch. Her very soul seemed to throb with a delicious fever. Here, here in the arms of her husband was the all the romance she had ever craved.

“So you have loved me all the while?” the Marquis murmured.

“Yes, my Lord. I have always loved you.”

“And I have loved you with all my heart and will love you for all eternity.”

With a groan, he swept her up from the floor.  

“We have a great deal of lost time to make up, my angel. What a good thing it is that I am mad with desire for you. I am going to spend this night making love to you again – and again – and again!”

Eugenia swooned as her husband carried her to the sofa.

What better place in the world was there for her to yield herself up to joy, what better place to be truly made a woman and a wife, what better place to be loved and give love in return and be certain of endless happiness than here at her beloved ‘
Paragon
'!