At intermission, Bell led the way downstairs. Behind him, he heard Colin and Harry arguing.
“Harry, do try not to fall in love with the actresses,” Colin said.
“I can’t help it,” Harry said. “I’m a target for Cupid.”
Bell looked over his shoulder. “Trust me, it’s lust.”
“Try harder, Harry,” Colin said. “You’re dashed embarrassing when you get that mooncalf look in your eyes.”
“Best watch out lest some pretty lass snares you in the parson’s mousetrap,” Bell said.
Harry shuddered. “I don’t want a wife—just a temporary bit of muslin.”
“Right, a quarter of an hour’s worth,” Bell drawled.
Colin snorted.
“Ha ha,” Harry said.
Bell hailed some acquaintances as he descended the lower stairs and headed toward the women’s dressing room. The crowd of waiting men parted as he strode forward and rapped on the door. Harry and Colin stopped quarreling and caught up with him.
The door cracked open to reveal Rosalynn, scantily clad in a silk robe. “Bellingham, you devil,” she said, pulling him forward by his lapels.
“Will you let my friends inside?” he asked, grinning at her.
“I might,” Rosalynn said, cupping his face. “You could melt a woman’s petticoats with those blue eyes.”
Bell motioned Harry and Colin to come in. Rosalynn shut the door on the men outside pleading to enter. Inside, the actresses were changing their costumes and weren’t particularly modest. For a moment, Bell found himself mesmerized by the sight of their bosoms and thighs. Then Rosalynn tapped his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to introduce your friends?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Bell said gathering up his scattered wits. “This is Harry and Colin. I dragged them out of the Thames.”
Rosalynn laughed. “Well, your friends are rather attractive, despite their damp origins.”
An actress with a large bosom approached Harry. “Oh, you’re a looker. I’m Ellie.” She kissed Harry on the cheek. He promptly placed his hand over his heart and pretended to swoon on the threadbare divan.
A redheaded actress wrapped her arms around Colin’s neck, and moments later he was devouring her lips. Ellie and another actress sat on either side of Harry and proceeded to run their hands over his waistcoat. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he said.
“Or hell,” Bell said.
“If this is hell, I will gladly burn for an eternity,” Harry said.
“Your friends are amusing,” Rosalynn said, perching on Bell’s lap. “Give me a kiss, before I go back onstage.”
He held the back of her nape and swept his tongue inside her mouth.
A few minutes later, she lifted her lips, sounding a bit breathless. “Ah, you’re happy to see me, aren’t you, big fellow?”
He gave her a wicked grin as he lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Can I interest you in an arrangement? There’s a house and jewels.”
For a moment, her eyes lit up with excitement, but she banked it quickly. “You tempt me, Bell, but I’m an independent girl.”
He outlined her lips with a feathery touch. “I’m a generous man,” he said. “You would have access to the premier dressmakers. I will buy you emeralds and treat you like a queen.”
“You tease,” she said.
He cupped her powdered and rouged cheek. “No paint, no rehearsals, no memorizing lines. You could be a lady of leisure.”
“I’m not a lady,” she said, her smile fading.
He squeezed her hand. “You know what I mean. I can give you comfort and pleasure.”
“Say no more, because I fear I’ll say yes.”
“Then say yes,” he said, smiling.
She put her finger over his mouth. “I’ve no doubt it would be wonderful for as long as it lasted,” she murmured. “But you’re a fickle man, and despite the outward trappings, I have a tender heart.”
Her words surprised him, because of her cynical veneer. Ordinarily he wouldn’t take her words at face value, but something in her expression made him suspect she’d told the truth.
Rosalynn brushed a lock of his hair off his brow. “Someday, a woman will come along, and you will lose your heart to her.”
“I don’t have one to lose,” he quipped.
“Rosalynn,” the redhead called, “it’s almost time for the next act.”
She slid off his lap. “Perhaps one evening, I’ll see her in your box.”
“I wouldn’t wager on it if I were you.”
She kissed two fingers and pressed them on his mouth. He stood and watched as she hurried away. Rosalynn was a talented actress, but he knew very little about her. Like him, she was adept at dodging personal questions. Doubtless, she’d been in more than a few rough spots over the years. Despite his disappointment with her refusal, he admired her for maintaining her independence.
After meeting the actresses, the three men returned to White’s and ordered brandies all around. Bell took out a gold case with cheroots and offered it to his friends. They sat silent, smoking for a while, and then Harry spoke up. “We never did find Bell a new mistress.”
“Hmmm,” Bell said, flicking his cheroot in the ashtray.
“Lady Atherton is holding a ball tomorrow evening,” Colin said.
Bell shook his head. “There’s nothing for me at a ball.”
“You might find a new mistress,” Colin said.
Bell scoffed. “I meet only other gentlemen’s wives or daughters at balls, and I don’t hunt in other men’s territory.”
“What you need is a widow,” Harry said. “Someone clever and beautiful, of course.”
“But widows have expectations,” Colin argued. “Always looking for a new husband.”
“There is a new widow in town,” Harry said. “I heard she’s not in the market for a husband.”
Bell smoothed over his expression, but the news piqued his interest. He would not admit it, however. “That’s what they all say.”
Harry drained his glass and signaled the waiter. “According to my female cousins, she’s a friend of Lady Atherton’s.”
“Oh? Who is she?” Bell asked in a nonchalant manner.
Harry frowned. “I forgot. Lady Dun-something or other.”
Colin smirked. “You’re helpful.”
Harry’s face reddened. “Well, it’s hard to remember the details when all five of my cousins chatter at once.”
Bell nodded. “I’ve never understood how females manage to communicate when they all talk at the same time.”
“Don’t look at me,” Colin said. “I’ve only got two sisters. They’re twins and mostly just talk to each other. When they were very young, they made up their own language. No one could understand their gibberish, except the two of them.”
“Forgive me, but that’s a bit odd,” Bell said. “How old are they?”
“Fifteen. My parents worry they’ll never marry because they prefer each other to all other society,” he said.
“What you need are twin brothers for them.” Harry blew out a smoke ring.
Colin pulled a face. “What? Are you the designated matchmaker now?”
“It was only a suggestion,” Harry grumbled.
“Actually, it’s not a bad solution.” Bell stubbed out his cheroot.
“Thank you.” Harry traced his finger round the rim of his glass. “I heard about your family. You don’t have any relatives at all?”
“Harry, for God’s sake,” Colin said. “Don’t pry.”
Out of habit, Bell fixed a blank expression on his face. He ought to have expected the question, given the topic of families.
Harry winced. “My apologies.”
A hollow feeling descended in Bell’s chest. “There’s no one. I’m the last of my line.”
“I’m sorry to hear of it,” Colin said.
Bell shrugged. “It’s been five years. Life goes on.”
An uncomfortable silence ensued. He hated that part the most. No one ever knew what to say afterward, least of all him. He’d trained himself not to think about the sudden deaths of his mother, father, and brother. It had been the only way he’d known to deal with the overwhelming grief. Lately, it seemed that the memories kept invading, despite his efforts to shut them off.
Harry looked down at the table. “My father died when I was ten. After I went back to school the next year, the other boys avoided me. It was as if they thought it was a contagion. I was awfully glad Colin stood by me.”
Bell looked at Harry, realizing that he understood. “After the funeral, I went off to the Continent with friends for four years.”
Harry looked up and smiled as if relieved. “That must have been an adventure.”
After the worst of the shock passed, he’d been numb, but bit by bit he’d grown increasingly interested in the people and towns they visited. “It was a grand experience,” Bell said. “We traveled to France and Italy and lived like nomads.” He huffed. “We rode donkeys one time. Never again,” he said, shaking his head.
Colin laughed. “Lucky you. I always wanted to go.”
Harry stubbed out his cheroot and looked at Bell. “Are you setting up Rosalynn as your new mistress?”
“No, she’s dedicated to treading the boards,” Bell said.
“A pity,” Colin said. “Harry, tell us more about the widow.”
Harry finished off his brandy. “My female cousins said she’s purported to be very proper. They heard no man can tempt her.”
Bell’s blood surged as the word
challenge
echoed in his mind.
“He’s probably not interested in a tepid ball,” Harry said.
“But there’s the midnight supper,” Colin said, “and punch.”
Bell made his decision. “If it’s too tame, we can always leave.”
“Right,” Harry said. “So you’re in?”
“Why not?” He intended to secure an introduction to the very proper lady, whom he just might lead astray.
Two hours later, Bell waved Harry and Colin off in a hackney and stood watching as his carriage rumbled toward him. Masculine laughter alerted him. He looked out of the corners of his eyes and frowned at the trio of young men. The boy he’d seen last evening with the wheat-colored hair was staggering a bit. For a moment, he thought of saying something to them, because it was clear they were foxed and sitting ducks for London’s criminal element. But he didn’t know them.
They were someone else’s responsibility.
Yet, as he climbed in the carriage, he found himself wishing he’d given them a stern warning. If their parents didn’t take them in hand soon, the young men might find themselves in debt or worse. But their welfare wasn’t any of his affair. He knew better than to stick his nose in the business of others.
Bell rapped the roof of the carriage. Minutes later, the vehicle jerked into motion. As the carriage rocked along, he tried to push the image of the young men out of his mind, as he’d always done when he didn’t want to think about something. But for reasons he didn’t understand, he found it difficult to forget them.
Perhaps they reminded him too much of his own short-lived misadventures the year when he and his friends graduated from Cambridge. They’d managed to escape some tedious entertainment and found their way into a bawdy house. He’d been titillated and scared witless at the same time. If not for his friend Will’s older brother Hawk, who found them, the three of them might have ended up with the French pox. Bell remembered worrying that Hawk would spill everything to his parents. Instead, the earl had purchased some French letters and told them to use them if they valued their sorry hides.
All of that had happened several years ago—a lifetime ago, when his world had seemed secure and full of possibilities. He’d soon learned how quickly and easily cruel fate could snatch away everyone he held dear.