Lady Henrietta's Dilemma: Regency Suspense Romance Book 2 (Lords of Sussex) (8 page)

‘Yes but I hear of Cyprians, who have children.’

‘The lucky ones yes. And they are often more important to the man than his own legitimate children, but do you really believe Vaughan would refuse the child?’

‘I am not sure, but I already anticipate his reaction.’

‘Have you told the viscount?’

‘No, no – I feel he has borne enough.  He helped nurse me day and night, and it is so unfair to heap anymore upon his shoulders.’

‘La – he is such a dashing figure and to think he wants to care for you – a true protector who is not lusting after your body.’

‘I rather think he does Marissa,’ Esther said with a wry smile. ‘He just hides it very well.’

Rising, with the dog in her arms Marissa strolled over to the window. The street was quiet now, but soon it would be bustling with people and carriages; the slap and stamp of the torchbearers’ feet as they ran lighting the way; the shouts and laughter of the merrymakers making their way to the theatre or a ball.  Tentatively, she said. ‘I do know of a woman who is skilled in such things.  She is purported to be really successful, and has only lost two or three women.

‘Oh no, I could not.’ Esther felt the bile rising in her throat, as her hand went protectively to her stomach.

Marissa put down the little dog, and ran to her friend. ‘I’m sorry
forgive me. I only want to help you.  Sitting beside Esther, she took her in her arms.  ‘Try Lord Vaughan first?  If he does not want you or the baby, then you must hasten to the viscount. Just think, he may be bereft if anything was to happen to you.  Try dearest – just try.’

Esther sighed, her head against her friend’s shoulder. ‘I am just so frightened Marissa. What if Lord Vaughan says no? What if he insists, I go to this abortionist.
And then, what of the viscount?  Will he turn me away?  Oh dear lord, this is hard to bear.’

‘I’m with you Esther; I won’t let anything happen to you. La, Maurice gives me such a healthy allowance, tis enough to keep us both.’ Hugging Esther, she said, ‘Just think, I could rent you somewhere very near and decent. Moreover, when we return to England, I will see to your care. It’s not the end Esther.’

‘You’re so good Marissa.’ Esther sobbed, ‘Thank you. Maybe that is the way through. However, first I have to tell Lord Vaughan, and then I will see.’

Taking a lace handkerchief from her inner pocket, Marissa wiped her friend’s eyes. ‘Come, little Lily here is so sad.  Let us have wine to fortify us. 
Or, maybe a cognac? Why not?’

Esther shook her head, ‘La no, t’would harm the child.’

Hugging her, Marissa smiled. ‘See, already you care for the little one. However, I thirst for a cup of tea, after this.’

Ringing the small silver bell for tea, Marissa sat on the floor beside Esther. ‘Now the first thing is
, do you love Vaughan?’

‘No, I care for him, and will ever be grateful, but no.’

‘Then what of the viscount?’ She looked up to see Esther hesitate, her eyes holding a certain look. ‘Methinks you love him Esther.’

Smoothing down her skirts, Esther shook her head.
‘Tis too soon. He told me he loved me, and talking about it like this; I think I feel the same for him. I just could not tell him; I did not want to see the disappointment in his eyes.  Gad, even if he holds my hand, he stirs me. I have strange feelings running through my body. I have never felt such before with any other man.’

‘La you’ve only known two men Esther.’

‘Yes I know, but even so, there is something in his touch. Even if he is near me, tingles run from my neck to my stomach.  And I won’t say where else.’ Esther smiled. 

‘Esther, I really do think you should take up his offer; you are most certainly in love with him.’

‘I feel so disloyal to Lord Vaughan, how can I cast him aside?’

‘Speak with the viscount, Esther. Tell him of your love, of your
anxiety.’

‘No, not yet – not until I inform Vaughan. After all, it is his child.’

‘What if he does not accept it?’

‘Then I will speak with him. I have no other choice. However, I face penury.’

‘Not whilst I have the protection of Lord Denton.  Moreover, he has signed a contract with me for five years and a yearly stipend when he tires of me. He drew up the papers the very day he asked me to be his mistress. La, I will have enough to retire to a decent sized cottage in a country village.’

‘You are a cake Marissa; you will meet some other beau.’ Esther said, her eyes now dry, a tremulous smile on her lips.

‘No, I will swear off all men. I already have a pedigree ready for the villagers; I shall be a benevolent spinster, an indulgent aunt to my brother’s children.’

Now Esther did laugh, despite the horror of her situation. ‘Marissa – you will never be such. Why the men fly after you, swarming like bees to the honey pot.’

With a soft knock on the door, Lottie entered. ‘You rang mistress?’

Marissa answered for Esther. ‘Yes, please bring some tea and cakes
.’

When the maid left, Marissa said. ‘I know you may not feel like it at the moment dearest, but the Cyprian ball will be upon us soon.’

Esther rose from the chaise longue, and went to the drinks’ cabinet, her limp almost imperceptible,   she said, ‘I could not Marissa. La, I would be ungainly with this hobbling.’  Pouring a small cognac for her friend she said, ‘I don’t want to appear a wallflower. But, come enjoy this.’

‘Thank you. ‘Taking a sip, Marissa sat back, ‘You exaggerate dearest; you could never be a wallflower. You know you have followers. There could be someone there who will relieve you of your sorrows. You never know; he will take you and the baby. Some men would welcome it, especially when they are in
a frenzy for the woman.’

‘You know Marissa; I think you are right. I would start with a clean slate – he would be aware from the beginning. At least, that way I could save my baby. But then, I would tell him first and discover his reaction.’ Esther smiled, although her jade eyes darkened to deep emerald, the sorrow evident.   

***

Three streets away on the Rue Royale, the viscount sat mulling over some brandy, his thoughts on Esther.  He would take her in this very night if she agreed. He sighed; Constantia could be difficult; a well-meaning friend delighted in reporting the woman was having an affair with a certain Captain.  He did not, in essence, blame her; he had neglected her for some months now. It was nigh on time he ended the relationship. Some precious jewels and a parting gift of a few thousand pounds would be more than enough to keep her happy.  He had to be free for Esther. One way or another, he was determined to have her.  He was certain Esther would feel obliged to attend the Cyprian Ball, and he could hardly be seen there with a mistress on his arm. 

Even if that fellow Vaughan escorted her, he would make sure he had some dances with her.   The ball was a famous venue for the discarding and gaining of lovers.

Knowing
Bruges, would be at the gaming tables anyway, he had to admit the fellow was an astute player, gambling and often winning thousands in an evening.  He was recently married t’was true, but Bruges would hardly stay away from the infamous and enticing gambling rooms of Brussels. 

He heard the butler knock lightly and open the study door ‘The Lady Constantia
, my lord.’

Constantia’s shrill voice preceded her, as she entered, whining as usual about the sorry state of her clothes. Standing there, in a magnificent gown with jewels at her throat ears and adorning her hair, she wailed. ‘Frightful – frightful news David, I near fainted away. I heard this afternoon that Margarita, the Marquess
of  Westhaven’s mistress is to appear at the Cyprian Ball in the latest
a la mode
. Her gown cost over a thousand guineas and the marquess gifted her the most magnificent parure of amethysts and diamonds. I shall look like a wall flower beside her.’

‘Never my love.’
The viscount grimaced, ‘You are perhaps the most beautiful woman in Brussels,’ he said, whilst thinking she was also one of the most irritating and unfaithful.  He continued, ‘My love, I think you and I should have a talk.  I fear the time has come when we should have another look at our contract.’

Constantia’s cheeks paled, even though reddened with beetroot. Her full lips fell open. ‘Contract?’ she stuttered, ‘but why?’

‘Well, on termination of our agreement, it says that I would offer you four thousand pounds besides a conge of some precious gems.’

‘Yes, and I find that very generous.’ Already her tone switched to a sexy whisper, her eyes sultry as she swayed over, and lifting her skirts, straddled him, her hand moving to his thigh. Catching her around her small waist, he lifted her, and set her back on her feet. Her seductive behaviour came too late after weeks of bemoaning the sorry state of what must be one of the grandest wardrobes in Europe.

‘There is never a good time to say this, nor can words suffice, but my dear, sadly, I realize from your constant complaining that you are indeed dissatisfied with me. I cannot dress you in the mode of the Lady Margarita.  The marquess has bottomless pockets, even though he has a wife, three daughters and another mistress to boot.  So I must leave you free to find someone who can keep you in the luxury you deserve.’

David … you cannot … I will not … I refuse to leave you.’

‘Come my dear, Captain Wetherstone has made his case known.  Gad, the man had the cheek to approach me to let you go. It seems you two have had some tete a tetes.’

‘It was
talk my lord, just talk. I would never be disloyal to you.’

‘Come now, I was informed the man enjoyed you on several occasions.’

‘Never my lord, never. I have not bedded anyone else since having the honour to be your mistress.’

‘Bedded huh? I seem to remember being assured it was the floor, on an Aubusson carpet no less.’

Hanging her head, the lady burst into tears, and fell to her knees. ‘Please David, don’t do this. I will be true to you, why I love you – love you to distraction. I dream of you, I—’

‘Wetherstone instructs me to say he offers you one thousand guineas a year no less, a five year contract and a yearly stipend at the end of it. M’dear, come dry those pretty eyes.  Captain Wetherstone can keep you in gowns, jewels, carriages, all that you desire. He is a handsome virile young man, and I am a sour old puss – hate the heady life of the
ton
.  Now’s your chance m’dear. Take it before he meets someone else at the Cyprian ball.’

Constantia’s eyes narrowed. Yes, the viscount was distant, even a cold man with no liking for circling in the festivities of high society
; why she had to plead with him to attend the dinners, sumptuous banquets and balls.  All he wanted was his country estate and his damned horses. ‘So be it David. But pray tell me you will keep to the sum you agreed to pay when we part?’

‘Of course m’dear.
Done.’ The viscount rose from his seat.  ‘I shall contact Captain Wetherstone forthwith; and now I shall ring for your carriage.  I am sure the captain eagerly awaits you there, and your reply. Now come kiss me.’ 

As he lightly touched the pouting lips, he sighed inwardly with utter relief. At last, now he was free to pursue Esther in earnest.

Even though suffused with anger, an undercurrent of excitement surged through Henrietta’s body.   Glaring at the prince, her captor, she spat out the words, ‘How dare you – you—’ Catching her breath, she rose from the seat. No, those devilish dark eyes would not seduce her. 

Gently, he laid his hands on her shoulders, and pushed her back.  ‘Now sit my lamb. You must be thirsty,’ he said, his smile mischievous.

‘I am not your lamb – you oaf; I am no bleating sheep – for goodness sake, let me go now.’

‘Champagne for my future princess.’
  Ignoring her protests, he turned to an approaching waiter carrying a tray of fluted crystal glasses, and a silver bucket holding a bottle of champagne.  Yet another waiter followed, with a tray of food.

‘How dare you – who d’you think you are, you—’

She ducked, as the cork popped.  Raising her head trying to look dignified but failed, seething she said,   ‘I am not your princess – I am a married woman. What’s the matter with you? Are you a bedlamite – escaped from your cell?’

‘Oh yes, you say the right words, I am escaped from a prison of despair, a desert of loneliness, now the sun shines upon me, as you appear on that harsh horizon.’

‘A bad poet to boot. Why t’would make Byron shudder. Now let me go.’ Despite her frustration, she bit back a smile

‘Come my pet, let us eat and talk.’

She frowned, ‘My pet?’  The words sounded familiar.   A feeling of déjà vu swept over her. Had she met him before? Surely not, it was not often one met a prince of a European court. Her voice tensed, ‘What is there to talk about?’ She watched the waiter pouring the champagne, hunger pangs gnawing her  stomach, as the second  waiter placed a spread of the most exotic, and appetising goods in front of them. She loved larded oysters, lobster tails and prawns in piquant sauces. Her mouth watered at the Ducks Alamonde. However, she cared not for lamb’s ears and pork griskins.’

Raising his glass, he said, ‘A toast to our new found love. Here’s to the rest of our lives together.’

‘Apart Your Highness. Apart.’

Picking up his knife and fork, he laughed, ‘Gad, how you scold me.  However, see, I even provide a fork for you. Few ladies are presented with such. Leaning forward he held out a succulent prawn ‘Come taste.’

‘I will not touch a thing. Let me go immediately.’

His eyes shone. ‘I have searched for your lord and master, but he seems to have disappeared.’ Even as he lied, he held her gaze. ‘I will search again with you at my side, but first, have a little to eat. You must be starving.’

‘Do you promise?’

‘Yes, of course, my lady. Now come on, taste this.’

He held out a delicious prawn on a fork. Rolling her eyes, she opened her mouth, and indeed, it was quite delicious.  Chewing daintily, she swallowed, her eyes going back to the plate.

‘Admit it, you can’t resist me. I see it in your eyes.’ he said, beaming. ‘Ha
Ha, see you flush so prettily. And now your heavenly bosom heaves.’

Unable to stifle her laughter, she giggled, ‘Really; I cannot believe this is happening. However, I must admit the food is delicious.’ She sipped at the champagne, the bubbles tickling her nose.

Before she could reach for a handkerchief from her reticule, he leant over and dabbed at it, again, his devilish smile appeared. ‘And later I will taste you’

His words triggered a tingle from her stomach to her intimate regions. Again, this man moved her to sensations hitherto unknown. She squeezed her thighs together, abashed at the flush and tingling. ‘Now stop it, or I will leave you.’ 

As if sensing her reaction, he said, ‘Try the oysters, a superb aphrodisiac.’

‘Your Highness, you must not speak so to me, tis defiling.’

‘The words of love can never defile my lamb.  You are the Goddess Aphrodite personified. Now pray, call me Ambrosius, or rather Ambros for short, tis how my close friends address me.’

‘Not Prinny then.
Tis how we call our Prince Regent. Yet, Ambros, is far better, the shortened version does not make one think of nectar each time.’

‘Hmm,’ he grinned, ‘so later you can drink of that nectar through the goblet of my skin. We have all night my pet.’

Her heart jolted, at the words, ‘My pet?’ Again, they echoed through her mind, as did his voice.  She shook her head, no it was impossible; she'd never met him before. ’

‘You are quite mad you know,’ she said, nibbling on a codsound.  ‘La how did you know codsounds were a favourite of mine. Slowly, she felt herself relaxing. As he was determined they eat, she decided to enjoy it. After all, it was far better than walking
lost, and alone through the corridors of a strange hotel.  After two glasses of the delectable champagne, and a plate of delicious foods, she leant back, her face bemused. She was actually enjoying herself, perhaps, for the first time since her wedding feast. 

‘Your thoughts my love?’

Musing, she gazed into those alluring eyes. ‘I am wondering where my husband can be. My dance card was full; each line had a different name, so I realized he may dance with some of the wallflowers, but instead he has disappeared. And, here I am, without any dance partners, seated with a strange prince from a distant land.’ 

Ambros bit his lip; he could not divulge Vaughan was now ensconced in the card room fleecing his fellow players.  The man was a master of the sleight of hand, with various cunning tricks to divest his fellow players of their money. She little knew it was he
, who would take her back to the hotel.  Even though he set out to seduce her this night, he now knew he would not despoil her. After all, he was only after the jewels. She was an innocent, a young lovely bride deserted by her rotter of a husband.  The man should be here right now, shielding her from the likes of himself, a renowned rake. However, he was far more sinister than that; he wanted the sapphires and diamonds.

His words of love and marriage were a shallow lure.  As for being HRH Ambrosius of Salmis el Wrangel, it was a half-truth, a ploy to overwhelm an inexperienced, but beautiful young woman. Yet, he’d hardly stopped thinking of her ever since a few nights before, she stood beside the carriage with two pistols in her hands; one pointed at his fellow robber, and one at him and his two henchmen. What spirit, what courage even though her poor hands trembled so.

Looking at those huge cornflower blue eyes, the pale ivory skin and rounded bosom, he felt guilt sweep over him.  He had not anticipated falling in love with this young beauty. Inwardly, he sighed, whereas he formerly determined to bed her, and take the jewels, now he knew it to be impossible.  Yes, he would have the jewels, but reluctantly leave her unscathed. He just hoped he could control his wanton desire.

‘Come my pet, I am full after such a repast, let us take a stroll. The lanterns among the trees will light our way.’

Again, Henrietta’s mind whirled; he evinced such feelings in her. Why did he sound so familiar?  However, she could not deny the attraction.  Minute by minute, she became more enchanted with this tall handsome God.  She looked up at a face of sculpted angles, the fine aquiline nose, flaring nostrils and fine lips – lips she wanted to kiss.

As she rose, he produced her large Norwich shawl from his chair. How had he managed that?  Seeing her surprise he said, ‘You left it on your chair, I had one of the waiters bring it for me. I knew it would be chilly.’ Wrapping it around her shoulders, he gently kissed the nape of her neck, upon which she felt a spear of exquisite fire shoot down her back. Good lord, what was that?  She could not conceal the shudder of sexual excitement.

Laughing, he said, ‘Hah, so I have found your weakness already, or should I say your love spot?’

Shrugging her shoulders to rid herself of the sensation, she could not help but grin back.  ‘I have not felt that ever before – t’was quite pleasant.' Shocked at her words, her hand went to her mouth. La, she was encouraging him, what next?  Her words belied her true feelings; it was actually devastatingly exquisite, but she was a little dismayed at his power over her reactions to his touch. Guilt surged through her, as she never experienced any of these feelings with Vaughan; in fact, she often cringed if he went to stroke her. She hoped in time; the feeling of revulsion would fade and develop into love. The time was n
igh when she had to succumb, to do her duty, and fill his nursery, but not yet.

The path meandered into a cloistered copse, the moonlight picking out a stone bench beside a trickling waterfall. ‘La tis quite lovely.  They take such care of their gardens.’

‘Indeed, let us sit for a while.’ Ambros said, ‘Tis very private, a lover’s bower, don’t you think?’

‘Behave yourself Ambros, tis only to sit. You promise?’

‘Such cruelty, how can any man resist such beauty, the moon kissing the curls on your head to silver, the charcoal clouds painting those divine lips navy, and your skin, alabaster. Tis cruelty I say, cruelty.’

‘La the poet has returned.’ Henrietta murmured wryly.  Pulling the shawl tightly around her, she sat down on the stone bench, ‘Ooh, I can feel the cold stone through my dress.’

‘We can soon remedy that.’ Giving a soft growl, Ambros hefted her up in his arms, and sat down with her on his lap.  Kissing her cheek, he said, ‘Comfy?’

‘La, you are so bold.  However, I must admit tis a lot warmer. But that is as far as it goes Ambros – promise?’

‘I’ll promise you after I—’ In a swift move, he cupped her face, his lips pushing down on hers.  Her stomach trembled, as he pressed further. Sighing she opened to him, feeling his tongue probe her mouth, flicking into her cheek before rolling around her tongue.  So this was making love. Groaning, she sank into his arms, her fingers entwined in the dark mane of hair. All thought fled, as she felt his fingers slipping down inside the low décolletage. She felt lost, loved, utterly in his power.