Duke of a Gilded Age (42 page)

Belle’s elation at being reunited with Wesley quickly turned to trepidation as he led her out to the garden. “My grandfather?” She clutched at his arm. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to meet him, Wesley.”

He reached out his fingertips and caressed her cheek. “Mr. Heathcliff is really very amiable, Belle, and I’ll be by your side all the while.”

“Y-You read my letter?”

“I did. I was too pigheaded to notice it at first, but Cavendish brought the letter to my attention yesterday. Oh, Belle, it made me the happiest man in the world and yet cast me into the pit of despair. I knew I’d do anything to save you from that monster.”

“Monster?” Belle was taken aback. “Errol is bad, but I hadn’t thought of him as a monster.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Belle. He’s your grandfather’s stepson.”

At that, Belle’s head swam and she became dizzy. “What?”

Wesley’s strong arms steadied her. “He was after your inheritance, Belle. You’re Mr. Heathcliff’s sole heir.”

Too shocked to respond, she allowed Wesley to escort her toward a tall middle-aged stranger waiting underneath a honeysuckle vine-covered arbor. The man’s eyes widened as she approached, and Belle thought she heard him murmur, “Great Scott,” under his breath.

“Miss Annabelle Oakhurst, allow me to introduce Mr. Hamish Heathcliff. Mr. Heathcliff, this is your granddaughter,” Wesley said.

Belle curtsied. “It’s an honor to meet you at last.”

Mr. Heathcliff put his hands on her shoulders and gazed at Belle in amazement. “You look just like your beautiful grandmother.”

His eyes moist, Mr. Heathcliff drew Belle into a heartfelt, tender embrace. After a few moments, Belle’s arms tightened around him as well. Cavendish came to stand next to Wesley.

“I think it may be a good time for a nice cup of tea, Your Grace.”

Wesley laughed. “How very British.”

“Precisely.”

“In your opinion, Cavendish, is there anything not improved by a cup of tea?”

“Only that which is best addressed by a tot of gin, brandy, or rum.”

Cavendish excused himself to go unpack Wesley’s bags while Lady Frederic ordered tea served on the patio. Belle and her grandfather sat together and soon were immersed in conversation. Although Wesley chatted with Mr. Oakhurst and his mother, inwardly he began to brood about Errol. He couldn’t help but dwell on how the man had insinuated himself into Belle’s affections and then blackmailed her into setting a wedding date.
He’s an utter cad who deserves to be whipped!

“I must say, Wesley, you’re wearing the fiercest scowl,” Lady Frederic said.

“Sorry, I was just wondering how best to go about apprehending Errol.”

At the mention of Errol’s name, both Belle and Mr. Heathcliff looked over.

“Nothing would give me more satisfaction than seeing the scoundrel arrested and charged,” Wesley continued. “And if he resists arrest, all the better.”

“The whole operation must be handled with delicacy,” Mr. Heathcliff interjected. “If Dickie realizes the jig is up, as they say, he’ll flee.”

“Well, if I invent some excuse to invite Errol to Caisteal Park, the constable could arrest him here,” Wesley said.

“Your Grace, if you invite
me
to Caisteal Park for dinner tomorrow night, Errol would eagerly consent to be my escort,” Belle said.

“You mustn’t have any further contact with the man,” Wesley said.

“I quite agree,” Mr. Oakhurst and Mr. Heathcliff said at the same time.

“Be reasonable, gentlemen!” Belle exclaimed. “We must do this quickly, before one of the servants accidentally mentions that Grandpapa is here. The only way to do it is by appealing to Errol’s jealous nature.”

“No. I don’t like it,” Wesley said.

“Send Cavendish in a carriage to pick the three of us up,” Mr. Oakhurst said. “My arm isn’t yet up to full strength, but he could lend me his assistance in guarding Annabelle.”

“From what you’ve told me, Wesley, Cavendish
has
proven himself adept at hand-to-hand combat,” Lady Frederic said.

“It’s the perfect plan,” Belle said. “When we arrive at Caisteal Park, Grandpapa will stay out of sight, Constable Dremond shall appear to be an invited guest, and when Errol is lulled into complacency, he’ll be subdued and arrested without any fuss.”

“I still don’t like it,” Wesley said. “But if Cavendish is agreeable, I suppose it’s our best course of action.”

“Grandpapa, since Errol will expect to see your ring on my finger, may I borrow it one last time for tomorrow night?” Belle asked.

“Child, your grandmother would have wanted you to have the ring,” Mr. Heathcliff said. “Consider it yours.”

“
Thank you
, Grandpapa. Although I dislike Errol, I’ve always thought the ring quite wonderful indeed. I’ll treasure it, knowing it comes from you,” Belle said.

The following evening, Belle hummed as she dressed for dinner. She wore the new off the shoulder dinner gown she’d purchased in London, at her aunt’s insistence. Although her recent weight loss had decimated her curves, the use of bust improvers filled out the peacock-blue taffeta bodice nicely. Mrs. Beveridge helped her dress, and had suggested the improvers for maximum—and somewhat indecent—effect.

“What the gents don’t know won’t hurt ’em,” she said with a wink. “Besides which, once you’ve got your appetite back, you can dispense with the improvers and use what God gave you.”

Belle knew she was blushing, but she was grateful for Mrs. Beveridge’s suggestion. It was paramount that Errol be distracted this evening, by any means necessary.
But if Wesley should enjoy the view, so much the better
. The chime at the front door rang.

“That’s the carriage,” Belle said. “Tell Cavendish I’ll be down in a moment.”

As the housekeeper went to answer the door, Belle pinched her cheeks to bring out the color. The lovely diamond flower ring sparkled on her finger, and she took a moment to admire it before heading for the stairs.

She sailed into the drawing room, expecting Cavendish. Her smile froze at the sight of Errol, who’d donned a formal cutaway suit for the evening.

“Errol! Y-You look very handsome,” she said.

“And you are simply ravishing.”

Errol closed the distance between them in two steps and pulled her into a kiss. After a few moments, Belle leaned back.

“Papa will be down any moment,” she murmured.

“But he’s not here now.”

His kisses trailed down her neck and toward her décolleté. Belle flinched.

“We aren’t married,” she said. “Please don’t take liberties you are not yet entitled to.”

A flash of anger crossed Errol’s handsome face. “That ring on your finger entitles me to anything I please. And if you didn’t want me to sample your wares, why do you display them so freely?” He paused. “Unless they aren’t displayed for
my
benefit, after all.”

He released her and reached for his hat.

“I’m inclined to beg off dinner this evening,” he said, suddenly cold. “Give my respects to the duke and his mother.”

“Oh, Errol, please forgive me.” She took him by the hand and slid a seductive look between her lashes. “I’m glad you find me attractive and that
is
the whole point of my toilette. I’m wearing a new fragrance…can you guess what it is?”

He smirked, put his hat down, and resumed his fondling. Belle gritted her teeth, even as she feigned sighs of pleasure. Finally, he stepped back, straightened his clothes, and picked up his hat.

“Let’s ride on ahead, my pet. My landau is outside.”

Belle forced her voice to remain steady. “But the Duke of Mansbury is sending a carriage for us, Errol.”

“Let your father ride in it then. Do you find the prospect of being alone with your fiancé for a few minutes so distasteful?”

“Why, no, of course not.”

As he took her by the hand and guided her toward the front door, Mrs. Beveridge appeared in the hallway.

“Tell Mr. Oakhurst we’ve gone on to Caisteal Park,” Errol said. “We’ll meet him there later.”

The darkness outside was relieved only by the oil lamps on Errol’s carriage. Belle gulped when she realized the convertible top had been raised, and the passenger compartment was almost completely concealed from view. Errol’s uniformed driver sat on the high bench in front, keeping his face discretely forward.

“It’s such a fine night, Errol, wouldn’t you like to put the top down?” she asked.

“What is the point in that, since we desire privacy?”

Errol gave her a smile as he handed her into the carriage. Although she realized it was a futile gesture, she slid all the way over, to put as much space as possible between herself and her escort. She heard Errol murmur something to his driver, and then moments later he climbed in beside her. The team of horses set off, and Belle cast about for some topic of conversation that would keep Errol preoccupied.

“This is a lovely carriage, dearest,” she said. “I understand a patent was granted to a German working on a horseless carriage. Can you—?”

But Errol silenced her with a passionate kiss.

“I told Johnson to detour to my cottage so we may have a drink before dinner,” he murmured finally. “Perhaps an appetizer as well.”

Belle tried to direct Errol’s hands to more respectable places on her body without revealing her repugnance to his touch.

“Errol, be reasonable. If we don’t arrive at Caisteal Park before Papa, he’ll worry.”

“Not if he knows you’re with me. I have in my pocket a special license to be married, Annabelle. I’ll send for the pastor and we can be married tonight.”

“Are you mad?”

“Mad with desire, my love. Married or no, I will have you tonight.”

The carriage picked up speed. As its wheels hit a small bump in the road, Belle and Errol were jostled apart. They were both obliged to grab onto the hand straps or risk being thrown to the floor.

Errol pounded on the front of the carriage with an angry fist. “Johnson, rein in the horses for pity’s sake!”

Apparently Johnson couldn’t hear Errol’s voice over the clatter of horse hooves on the pavement, because the carriage didn’t slow.