A Lady's Plight (Lords of Sussex) (10 page)

As the afternoon soon gave way to dusk, Isa opened her eyes to see grey watery light reflected on glass and silver. Rising to her elbows, she looked down at Alex stretched out beside her; his dark locks tousled his mouth slightly open. Sleep softened the angled planes and surfaces of his face, the dark eyelashes sweeping his cheek. Fondly, she smoothed a lock from his forehead, feeling the thin film of perspiration on his olive skin. He opened his eyes to her touch and smiled; lazily, he gathered her to him, kissing her cheek, then the tip of her nose. Responding, she stroked his bare chest. 'I think we should rise; they will be serving dinner soon.

A clatter of footsteps and someone groaning, cut off his words. To his dismay, he heard vomiting. Alex rose from the bed and went to the door, disgust wrenching his face. 'Oh God, someone's been sick right outside our door. Damn.'

Isa immediately felt bile rising, as she smelt the foul odour coming from beneath the door.

Striding over to the bell pull, Alex summoned the Captain's wife. It must be cleared up before they emerged from the state suite.

Isabella hurriedly left the bed to freshen her toilette, after which she pulled a dinner gown from the leather trunk. The silvery blue heavy silk suited her dark looks; a slight flush of peach relieved the paleness of her ivory skin. Stooping she lifted out her jewellery case, taking out a dark blue sapphire necklace to blend with the dress.

Alex heard the Captain's wife rap on the door. Opening it slightly, he saw her distressed face, as she said, 'My Lord, I will have this scrubbed within minutes, never fear.'

Isa's nose twitched, as the strong smell of lye seeped through the door. Within half an hour, Mistress Thompson knocked again. 'Tis clear now my Lord. We have laid down fresh sand and bran chaff so, you will not soil your shoes.'

Looking down at her satin slippers decorated with semi-precious gems, Isa wrinkled her nose. 'I am sure the smell of the vomit will taint my slippers.'

Alex smiled. 'Never fear, I shall carry you to the banqueting room my love.'

As Isa entered the room, her hand on Alex's arm, two officers magnificent in their scarlet uniforms turned bowing. Isa recognized one of them as the Colonel on deck. Alex saluted, and then bowed exchanging a few words, before bringing Isa forward. 'Sir may I introduce my wife.'

Isa gave a semi-curtsey, and the Colonel took her hand as she rose. 'Countess Sandford - honoured to meet you. So you are to reside in Brussels during our battles and skirmishes?'

'Yes Sir, but I will also stay with him in the camps if necessary.'

He raised his blond eyebrows. 'Brave indeed young lady; however, luxurious they may be; the conditions can be harsh.'

'Sir, I am aware of that. I wish to be with my husband.'

Alex glanced at her. Already she was proving to be a loyal wife.

The Colonel turned to his companion, who stood beside him. 'May I introduce my travelling companion, Mistress Lily Winthrop?' The woman curtseyed, her gorgeous lemon muslin dress sweeping gracefully to her feet; matching satin camellias with sprays of white feathers decorated her short curls a la Titus style. A single drop pearl on a filigree silver chain nestled in her ample cleavage; a Kashmir shawl draping over her sloping shoulders gave that extra touch of elegance. She was indeed a stunning creature. Glancing quickly at her left hand, Isa saw she wore a huge diamond on her middle finger.

The guests stood chatting politely in subdued tones as they waited to
be seated. An apple-cheeked man in formal evening wear, dipped his head in a salute, speaking in a high falsetto, 'Mr Alan Barnard - ships doctor and this is my lady wife, Mistress Eileen. A plump lady beamed, the grey ringlets bouncing each side of her merry face, as she gave a short bob.

Alex came up, and smiling, bowed before turning to a portly man in a scarlet uniform. '
Your Grace, good afternoon, at your service.' Proffering his hand to Isa, he said, 'May I introduce my wife, the Lady Isabella.'

Curtseying, Isa's eyes widened. It was proving to be quite distinguished company, with two earls and a duke. Another man turned to them, again in uniform, his thin back bent with age. 'Marquess of Lentworth - pleased to meet with you.
Such beauty to grace our table.' Isa curtseyed again, and beamed as she looked up into his twinkling blue eyes.

Already having eaten of the various dishes served in their stateroom, Isa found she had little appetite. Nibbling, she listened to Alex and the Colonel expounding on the threat of Napoleon's surge to Brussels. It appeared Wellington would be marching along with the Prussian Gebhard Leberecht von Blucher.

The Colonel's piercing eyes narrowed as he said,' He's on the offensive. Wanted peace and to take the throne again or leadership. Can't allow that. So we're based in Belgium. The Corsican's marching through France gathering a following.'

Alex nodded. 'He's popular with the French; they took him back in no time.'

'Yes, seems he appeared at one town, opened his jacket and said that if anyone was not for him, to shoot him there and then.'

'Brave of
the him.'

'Hmm - if it was true.'
Turning to Isa, the Colonel said, 'So my lady, you're equipped for the march?'

Isa dimpled. 'Yes Sir, I have the appropriate footwear and am used to riding; it is a love of mine.'

Alex grinned. 'Isa is an able horsewoman; she has beaten some of us men I can tell you. Shoots too. Knows how to load a carbine. And has a good eye.'

'Well young lady, you will be an asset to us.'

His mistress dabbed at her lips and smiled. She said quietly, 'I too love the horse, but alas my dear Colonel insists I ride in the carriage.'

The Colonel frowned. 'Now my dear don't let us go down that road again, to use a pun. I will not have you ride with the cavalry. I want you well away from the camp followers.
Tis not a sight for your eyes.'

Alex glanced at Isa. 'You see, tis not just I who seeks to protect you from the rigours of the journey.'

Unabashed, Isa put down her napkin. 'I insist I ride with you Alex.'

Bowing, he winked at her, knowing she had
as yet no idea of the travails entailed in the march. He frowned as he said to the Colonel. 'Marshall Ney is a formidable opponent.

'Yes, but we have the best generals. Lord Charles Ladness, the Duke of Normanton will ride with us.'

Alex stiffened. 'Normanton?'

'Yes - a very powerful man - his strategies in the field are second to none. He's bringing his son along, got him a commission as Lieutenant in the Royal Regiment of the Horse Guards.' He paused. 'Darn good fellow, but he needs to be pulled in, has a penchant for cards and the ladies.' He gazed directly at Alex, his eyes unwavering.
'I'll expect you to keep an eye on him.''

Alex realized the Colonel knew of Ladness's excesses and his latest attack on Isa. News travelled like wildfire in the
ton
.

Isa's eyes widened; as she went to speak, she felt Alex kick her foot under the table.

At that moment, the Colonel's mistress tapped him on the arm. 'Would you please pass me some iced water; I thirst so much on these voyages. They can be quite wearisome.'

Smiling, the Colonel passed the pitcher, water, pouring it into her glass for her, saying, '
We have yet to voyage from Ostend to Ghent on the Flemish borders, but it will take but a day m'dear.'

So
, that bastard, Ladness would ride with them to Brussels. Isa's heart thumped faster than any beat of a drum. She looked over to see the anger seething in Alex's eyes.

Isa flopped on the bed, glad to be off the rolling timbers of the sailing ship. They needed to rest, bathe and change before the ball that began at ten PM. The hotel in Ghent was impressive with a colonnaded portico that led into a spacious reception area with tiled black-and-white flooring. Elegant Grecian statues graced niches whilst paintings of nymphs and fauns dancing in Elysian Fields decorated the walls. Their suite consisted of a bedroom, small sitting room and a dressing area with a table on which stood a large bowl with a pitcher of water.

'I would far rather have a bath Alex. Would you pull the bell for the maid de chambre?'

The
maid appeared minutes later; her pretty face flushed, the décolletage far too low, exposing large rosy bosoms. Isa could see Alex's eyes straying to them, before roving to the tiny waist and ample hips. As she did not speak Dutch, Isa used the French tongue asking for hot water for a bath. Luckily, the maid understood. Nodding, the young woman maid curtseyed and left, but not without Alex tipping her generously.

'Honestly Alex, you just cannot resist a pretty
maid can you?'

'Dearest, I was just doing what any other guest would do. I
could hardly not tip her.'

'Tumble her would be a better word. If I was not here, I swear she would have been on that bed and unclothed within minutes.'

Alex grinned. 'You do me a dis-service my love. As if I would look at anyone but you.'

'Tush - I can see now why you were loath to bring me. La, if you are anything like the others, it would have been mistresses and chambermaids.'

'We have our needs pet. Especially in times of war, a man's blood is roused to the hilt.'

'Hilt?
An apt word.'

Their bantering was cut short, as the
maid arrived with two burly male servants carrying large bowls of water. After the woman lined the iron bath with a clean sheet, the men carefully tipped in the steaming water. Retreating, they left to bring more.

The
maid turned to Isa, asking if she would like assistance to bathe, but Isa had other ideas. After all, she could have called on Sarah, who was staying with the other servants in the small pension across the street. Alex's eyes roved already; she would steal his interest from the sexy Belgium maids, and have him partake of the bath with her.

As Isa began to disrobe, Alex came over to her. 'Let me.'

Slowly, he undid the tiny pearl buttons on the back of her dress, tenderly kissing the nape of her neck, his lips trailing down her spine. She shuddered as the sweet sensation rippled to her core. He knew this was her most sensitive spot, especially between the shoulder blades. Pulling at her sleeves, he slowly dragged the dress down, leaving her in her petticoat and chemise. His breath quickened as he cast off his jacket, flinging it over the chair. Returning to her, his movements again became slow and tantalizing. Gently, he untied the strings of her petticoat, kneeling as he pulled it off to her feet, his hands rising to massage her pert buttocks. Standing, he gazed at her, in her chemise and pantaloons, her breasts visible through the sheer cheesecloth, inviting his kisses. She lifted her arms for him to slip off the chemise, whereupon he rained kisses on her neck. Hearing her groan, flinging back her swan like neck, he rose and swiftly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the bronzed chest, the pecs strong and hard, the muscles of his diaphragm that of a Greek god. Shucking off his trousers and underdrawers, he scooped her up and carried her to the tub. His body towered over her, as he climbed in. Facing her, he handed her a tablet of soap. 'One for you and one for me.' Lovingly, he lathered her neck, and shoulders. 'Truly you are Venus in the flesh, the Goddess of love.' Laughing she lay in the water, her head on his chest.

                                                          
~

The ballroom boasted a huge banquet, from which the guests partook before the dancing began. Any number of exotic dishes aroused the taste buds, many of the guests salivating even before taking one bite. As usual, Alex joked about the
frogs legs and the snails. However, Isa would have none of it, choosing instead some smoked salmon and langoustine. She twitched her nose at Alex, as he dropped a snail in his mouth. 'Oh for goodness sake, just turn your head. It is too bad of you. I can eat nothing if you keep showing me those disgusting things.

'Isa - you have not tasted them. They are a delicacy and cooked to perfection in a piquant sauce. Look, just try one.'

'No - no - never.'

The strains of the first dance ended their bickering, as Alex spun around.
'Hah the quadrille. Now, we cannot miss that.'

As there were few women in attendance, Isa found herself besieged. Under the watchful eye of Alex, she danced tirelessly through the Scotch reels, the Mazurka and the polka, the officers almost quarrelling, as to who danced with her next. Some even broke into the dance and whipped her off even before the exchange of partners in the line.

At one point Alex rescued her, and carrying two glasses of wine stepped out onto the balcony. 'Come sit my darling. You are the belle of the ball, but you need some respite.'

Plumping herself down on one of the wrought-iron chairs, Isa giggled. 'My goodness, I have never had so much attention, not even in my first season.'

'Twas damned hard to get a dance with you then. Your card was always full even before the dancing began.' He grinned. 'I see the Colonel's in a pique; his mistress is in high demand. But, as we near Brussels you will find many young ladies out here with their paramours.'

Isa took a sip of her wine. 'Henrietta will marry in a few days now; she insists she is coming out with Lord
Bruges, and Phillipa not long after that. La, what fun we will have.'

Alex frowned, as far as he knew Bruges and Thurston were bringing their doxies with them.
Enchanting creatures. He bit his lip; his sheltered girl was in for a few shocks, as she entered the adult world of the
ton
.