Lady Henrietta's Dilemma: Regency Suspense Romance Book 2 (Lords of Sussex) (10 page)

The picture of a young man, with dark hair and a white face cowed in fear flashed through his mind. ‘For God’s sake Wiltshire, I didn’t mean to – I didn’t know who he was – he gave a false name.’

‘What d’you expect him to do? He was not about to drag the family name into disrepute. He survived, and that’s the only reason you’re not tasting the grave. As for the jewels, have you checked your trunk yet?’

‘You didn’t? Those jewels were won by me; you have stolen my property.’ Bruges snarled.  ‘I demand you return them, or … or—’      

‘Or, what?  Mark my words scullion, your time is near. Now get out of my sight.’

‘But, what about the ten thousand?’
Bruges spluttered, spittle flying.

‘My man will deliver
five thousand. Your wife is then mine. She may remain with you until such time as I acquaint her with your skulduggery.  I wish not to break her heart.’ Grabbing Bruges’ lapels, his eyes enraged, he practically lifted him off the floor. ‘So heed me now.’ He hissed. ‘I will be with her when I please. Moreover, I also intend saving her from a life of hell with you. You understand?’

‘You can have her; she’s frigid, colder than a witches’ tit.’

Smacking him across the mouth Ambros said, ‘Watch your tongue, lest I cut it out. Heed me well, I don’t want to hear you’ve touched or harmed her in any way. Your life depends on it.’

He clenched his fists, as he watched Bruges walk away. He wished he could take Henrietta right now, save her from any further misery, but he knew she would not leave Bruges; would not sully her marriage vows.  He must find a way to show her what kind of man she married.

Rising from her chair, Esther went to the window, the limp almost gone; she could walk with some elegance once more. Her heart felt heavy, even though the sun sparkled through the windows, casting rainbow hues on crystal ornaments, and gilt chairs. She peered through the glass searching for the viscount, even though she had forbidden him to visit her.  However, that did not stop him showering her every day with bouquets of roses, carnations and lilies in dazzling arrangements. Delightful scents pervaded the apartment, much to Lottie’s dismay who suffered from a rare condition, which the medical fraternity recently announced as hay fever.  Her moaning and griping extended to changing the water and lopping off wilting flower heads. Yet, Esther could not bear to part with a flower until it discoloured, and even then, she sought to save them. She would admonish her maid, saying flowers are alive, have feelings; they reach for the sun, drawing up life through their stalks, so how could one discard them? Really, they should not be cut at all, but allowed to bloom, and then wilt in their own cycle, not cut off in their beauty.

She ensured the viscount still knew nought of her
predicament, for surely he would reject her immediately. He was a man of honour, a man who still mourned his beloved wife, a woman who strongly resembled herself. Was he looking for a copy of his wife, or did he genuinely want her, Esther Taunton?  If she did go to him, would he be listening for his wife’s ways of talking, her smile, and her laugh?

Still, her erring heart yearned for him, for his tenderness, his kiss, the way her body responded to his touch. She could not forget the exquisite sensation racing down her spine.  Even now, she felt it, as she thought about him. Yet it was impossible; her hands went protectively to her flat stomach. First, she had to tell Vaughan she was increasing. It was her duty to give him the chance to acknowledge or renounce his child. She bit her lip, what would she do if he rejected her?  How would Vaughan react to the child? Some men sought a mistress from pure lust or status, casting her off the moment he discovered she was breeding. It was often written into the contract.

Many men fled from the hypocrisy of an arranged marriage, repelled by frigid arms and a cold bed. Rather, they desired the warmth of a mistress, of love; joy in the sexual act, laughter, flattery, flirting, all that gave depth and enriched life, the offspring of such, being treasured as facsimiles of the beloved.  The man could hardly divorce his wife who provided the heirs to the estate, but he could remain faithful to the woman he chose for love, his mistress. That way there was no scandalous divorce, for although the
ton
delighted in tittle-tattle, they punished blatant wrongdoers with exile.

She sighed, retreating to her couch, picking up little Lily.  How could it be so, the coldness of maintaining the bloodlines, the titles? Where was love in the inked letters of a title? How could women endure living their whole life without passion, for the sake of being addressed as a lady, countess or duchess? Did stone walls and landscaped gardens fill the empty heart? Her mind hearkened back to the flowers, surely some of these titled women were like flowers, admired and then cut off in the first bloom to be imprisoned in a crystal vase; a stone palace.

The urgent ring of the bell interrupted her thoughts.  Rising, she waited for Lottie to announce the unexpected visitor. Her mood lightened as Marissa tripped in, richly dressed a la modality, her lovely face aglow, ‘Tis a beautiful day for riding Esther, come let us make haste to the park. La, I think the whole of la plus haute beau monde is out today.’

‘I cannot rise to the occasion dearest; Vaughan will be here any day now, and I just feel so desperate. I am not good company. You go, maybe Felicity Methers and others will be out riding with their beaux.’

‘I am not leaving here without you.’ Marissa said firmly and ringing the bell, waited with pursed lips until Lottie entered.

‘Please get your mistress’s riding habit ready, and her new boots. Then inform the groom to prepare Apollo.’

Esther went to interrupt, but Marissa put her fingers to her lips. ‘Enough, my dearest girl, you are very pale; you need the fresh air and the sun, so enough.’

With further protestations, from Esther, she ensured she dressed ready for the park.

‘I must say that bonnet really becomes you Esther, and it blends in with the pale blue of your habit. It is much better than the other one. I like the tiny ruched band and rosettes around the brim.’

Esther smiled, being a bright spirit; Marissa always managed to arouse her from her despondency.

***

‘
Look who’s coming towards us, tis Lord Bertie Templeton, friend to the viscount and Vaughan. He should have news of both your beaux Esther.’

‘Really Marissa, the viscount is not my beau, as well you know.’

‘Well he could be if you gave him the chance. Did you know Bertie rescued a child? A young girl of thirteen?’ 

‘Good lord, where from?’

‘He found her in a brothel for the younger ladies – you know.’

‘Really, I thought it was boys he would be interested in. So what was he doing there?’

‘Well he and a few other officers discovered they were harbouring children there, so they took it upon themselves to take the brothel keeper to task, and then destroyed the building; it was only a shack really.’

‘Really?
Would they not be in trouble with the authorities?’

‘Nay, it was destroyed with their blessing, one less place of ill repute to level to the ground. The children were taken to the Foundlings Foundation.’  Marissa leant forward patting her horse, as it pawed the ground.’

‘So, how come Bertie rescued her?’

‘She had a genteel air about her. He feared she was nearing the age where they cast out the orphans to find employment. But Bertie said most of them returned to the streets, she would have ended up in another brothel.’ Marissa said, her eyes crinkling in concern. ‘You would not believe it, not only has he put her back in short skirts and pantaloons; he has employed a tutor and a dancing master for her too. So
, she will be trained in all the social graces. He’s already boasting she’s his step-daughter.’

‘So he is not ….?’

‘No – really he’s become very fatherly about the whole thing.’

‘He is so kind you know to do that. Plus, he does not play the fop too much.’

‘No, he still minces about waving the lace handkerchief aloft, but it is not so blatant now.’

‘So what does she look like?’

‘Russet curls tumbling down her back. I have only seen her from afar, but she is quite beautiful, still has the childish chubby cheeks. Quite adorable. But hush, here he comes, don’t say anything about it – promise?’

‘Of course I won’t you silly.’

Esther took a deep breath, secretly, she did also want to hear of the viscount; he never really left her thoughts. 

‘Good afternoon ladies, I am honoured with your company, such a beautiful day. Mistress Esther, how is your foot? It was such a nasty cut; I hear you were taken with the fever?’

‘I am recovering thank you Bertie. However, tell me; have you news of my Lord Vaughan?’

Bertie frowned, pulling a lace handkerchief from his pocket and mopping his brow. ‘I hear there is some rumour that all is not well with him and his new wife.
Something about a Duke sniffing around her.’ 

‘What on earth do you mean Sir?’ Esther asked, her eyes widening.

Bertie raked his fingers through the fair hair. ‘Let me invite you to tea, and this time I shall take great care of you. I shall seat you right by the canvas wall, then no one can skirt around you. Stupid waitress.’

‘Bertie that is unfair, it was an accident; the girl was bitterly upset. She lost her position through it, but his lordship very kindly looked into the matter. He found her for me, and she is now in my employ; her name is Blanche.'

‘Well that was really sweet of you Esther. I hope she is behaving herself?’ Bertie said, tossing his head in a girlish way.

‘Of course she is Bertie, honestly; you are cruel. Lottie is training her to be second parlour maid, and I am well satisfied with her efforts.’

‘But, what will you do when you return to England?’

‘Well, I shall take her with me of course. I would not leave her to starve on the streets of Brussels.’

Having reached the tea tent, Bertie dismounted and came over to Marissa, reaching up for her.  Once she was safely on terra firma, he came for Esther.  His large hands slipped around her slim waist as he lifted her effortlessly, and placed her beside Marissa.  Although a fop, he was very powerful.  ‘Now ladies, let us find a table. Mincing in front of them into the tent, he waved them to a table, with the chair tucked up against the canvas. ‘Here my ladies, this will suit us. Now let me get you both a Ratafia?’

‘Oh no thank you Bertie; I will have an iced lemon water.’ Esher said, adjusting her skirts.’

’I’ll have Ratafia please Bertie,’ Marissa said smiling, looking at Esther, realizing her friend now breeding, was careful of her drink intake. It was rumoured alcohol was detrimental to the unborn child. Load of poppycock, just embittered old spinsters casting fibs around.

After the waitress delivered the drinks, Esther leaned forward, ‘So Bertie you were going to tell us of Henrietta and
the duke?’

He leant forward, his lovely amber eyes narrowing. ‘It seems he bought access to her at his pleasure. And hear this, it appears, he spent the night in her hotel room.’

‘How do you know of this?’

‘Hmm news travels fast m’dear, especially scandal. It’s the talk of the officers’ mess.’

‘But how could you possibly know here in Brussels?’

‘They don’t just write despatches, there’s news of all kinds. Nothing misses the eagle eye of the Army.’

‘But it’s just gossip, that couldn’t be of any importance.’

‘Who are we to know, the duke could well be a spy. Don’t forget Vaughan is aide –de campe to General Althorpe. He is also an addicted gambler, so he might well need more funds – funds the duke could well supply. Any indiscreet behaviour is duly noted.’

‘Who is this duke?’  Do we know him?’

‘Of course, the Duke of Wiltshire, that doesn’t make him an innocent, does it? For that matter, the same could well be said of Henrietta.’

‘Never.’ Esther exclaimed. ‘I know her; she is just a young girl, too naïve – too innocent for intrigue on that scale.’

‘I tell you now; there are a few female spies. Egad, look at the Lady Serena Marshall, nineteen years old, a right little vixen. It’s only because of her sex; she did not suffer a firing squad. Young ladies can go astray my pet.’  He shook his head, ‘When I think of my little angel, my Esmeralda, I fairly shudder. However, I shall steer her in the ways of virtue.  Lord it does not bear thinking of.’

‘Who is Esmeralda?’ Esther asked, knowing full well it was the little girl he saved from the brothel.

‘Hmm, my stepdaughter.’
He pronounced, in arch tones. ‘Such an angel, one could not wish for a better behaved child.’

Esther nodded, ‘How long have you….’

‘Been her father? Some weeks now, my dear.  And I must say she is a joy, brightens my life.’

‘She is indeed lovely Bertie. It was so kind of you to rescue her.’

He preened, dabbing his nose with his handkerchief.  ‘So – another drink ladies?’

‘Not before you tell me more about the Duke of Wiltshire. How came he to escort Henrietta?’ Esther asked.

‘Well that’s a rum do.’ He replied, pursing his lips into a pout.  ‘It is the talk of the
ton.
It seems he, and Bruges have an arrangement.’

Esther’s face paled. ‘Good lord, I wonder how that came about?’

Bertie shrugged, ‘Not for me to say ladies. I am not inclined to tittle tattle.’

Both Esther and Marissa laughed; he was the worst gossip out.  However, smothering their laughter, they nodded, upon which he rose to get them another drink.

As they watched him mince across to the counter, Esther said, ‘So what is going on Marissa?  Vaughan and Henrietta are just married. Is the marriage to be annulled?’ Or has Vaughan cast her off?’

‘Esther you do realize he may be coming to claim you, seeing as he appears dissatisfied with his wife. But, what of the viscount, you know he yearns for you? ’

Esther said nothing, her thoughts reeling. Did she really want Vaughan to continue their relationship? Would he accept the child? Yet, her heart yearned for David; she felt more and more inclined to accept his offer of protection. But then, if he knew of her condition, he may well turn away as well. 

As Bertie came across to them, she saw him smile, and nod his head towards the table. Turning to see whom he acknowledged, Esther’s heart tripped in her chest. T’was David; her eyes roved over the tall figure, his broad
chest filling out the scarlet jacket, his dark hair glinting bluish in the light. He caught her eye, then grinning broadly walked over and pulled up a chair beside her. ‘My dearest girl, how wonderful to see you. How I’ve missed you.’

‘It has only been a few days, my lord.’ Esther stiffened a little, but could not conceal the pleasure evident in her eyes.  ‘Thank you for the flowers, they are a delight, but you don’t have to send them every day; it must cost you a fortune.’

‘Every bouquet reminds me of you; I personally visit the florist and choose them. When I see those delicate petals, I think of your translucent skin, when I smell their scent, I feel you near.’

Pressing his hand, Esther experienced a feeling akin to love flood her body so strongly she trembled. 
‘I too have missed you; every flower makes me think of you. When I touch them, I feel I am touching you.’ She stopped the words tumbling from her lips.  A flush burned through her body, it was too late to take them back. 

‘Come Esther, let us take a walk. He looked around to the astonished Bertie and Marissa, sitting open mouthed. Bertie firmly closed his lips; this was one gossip that would not reach the ears of the
ton
. The viscount was his dearest friend, who had shielded him from many an assault.  Few officers accepted his femininity and foppish ways, many bridled, ready to give him a facer. Rising to his feet he bowed, ‘David it would be my pleasure to get you a drink, but I think you have other things in mind.’

David acknowledged the veiled message with his eyes.  He did indeed have other aims in mind; one of them being to show Esther his love, not just talk about it. Promising to protect her were fine words, but he realized she needed to see and feel his love for her. Only the language of passion would win her, only his body could show her his love.  Smiling, the viscount rose, lifting Esther’s hand. ‘Come dear, we shall enjoy this glorious sun.  The clouds of war gather, so let us partake of this interlude, whilst we can.’

Once outside the tent, he steered her towards the path leading into the forest. ‘Are you alright to walk a distance Esther?’

‘Yes, I have only the merest limp now, and I need exercise
.’ She lowered her eyes, knowing what form of exercise he intended.

‘There are some shady groves there Esther dear, so we can relax and talk.’

Esther remained quiet by his side, enthralled with his hand in hers, those dark chocolate eyes embracing her. Her body yearned for him, for his hands on her skin, his tongue on hers.  Despite her increasing, the last few nights she had dreamt of his kisses, his arms holding her close. Soon maybe she would lose him forever, so why should they not share their love, if only for a day?

Other walkers disappeared, as they went deeper into the forest.  She gasped, as he suddenly stopped
, and swept her up into his arms, wading through waist high ferns to a bower girded by oak trees, their huge trunks giving them privacy to love.

Putting her down, he waved around him, the forest quiet, as if waiting. ‘Is this alright for you Esther?’

As she nodded, lowering her eyes, he took off his jacket and laid it on the peaty floor of the forest.  Sitting on it, he pulled her hand to him, ‘Come my dear, it’s quite soft here.’

Esther took a deep breath and sat down beside him. He knew from the yearning in her eyes, her quietness, and the biting lip that she accepted him. He spoke no words, as his arms encircled her, his lips seeking her neck. She shivered at his kiss, exquisite sensations racing down her spine.

He said softly, ‘Hah, a desire spot no doubt; I shall work on it.’

She laughed slightly, easing the tension between them. She longed for him to touch her again, to feel his lips on her skin. She turned
, putting her hand to his face, stroking the rough skin of his strong jaw.   Although he appeared clean-shaven, she felt the growing stubble creating ripples in her stomach.

Taking her hand, he turned it over, kissing her palm first gently, then the sensitive skin between her fingers. As she leaned into him, he lay her gently down on the silk lining of his jacket.  His lips found her forehead, her cheeks,
and the lobes of her ears. Stopping, he smiled and then leant to her lips gently pressing them open.  His tongue skimmed over hers, rolling over and under, flicking the tender inside of her cheek.  She felt a tingling ripple through her body, as his hand swiftly undid her jacket. He was pleased to discover she wore only a light chemise, her young upright breasts needing no uplift from a corset.  As he put her jacket to one side, his nimble fingers undid the straps of the chemise. He concealed his concern, as he gazed at the swollen breasts, the veins vivid under the pale white skin. ‘My darling.’ He murmured his voice husky and lower. She gasped feeling the depth of his need; she pulled away.  ‘No David – no. We can’t – it isn’t….’

‘I love you Esther – love you so much.’ Easing himself down, he gathered her close. ‘My love, I wish I could hold you thus every night. You only have to say the word.’

‘I need time David.’ She felt the tears so near. She had to tell Vaughan first of the child; how would he react? How strong was David’s love? Would he still want her if he knew the truth?