The Rake's Unveiling of Lady Belle (16 page)

‘And I spoiled it all.' Phillip sounded thoroughly disgusted with himself. ‘Well not the beholden bit. My vow to you is what is yours, stays yours.'

She ignored the latter part of his statement. After all those words were easily said and just as easily ignored. She just couldn't take that risk.

‘No, do not say that. Plus we both know it was bound to happen at some point.' Belinda gave into temptation and kissed the pulse that beat erratically in Phillip's neck.

It jumped and he groaned. ‘Belle, for the love of God…'

‘But Rotten Rosemary still hasn't remembered who I am,' Belinda went on hurriedly. Even if it did seem as if it was only a matter of time.

Phillip cleared his throat. ‘And if she does? What then? Your father can still take over your life.'

‘He can try. However, I'm of age and I'm no longer that green girl of all those years ago. And I'm well able to hold my own.'
I hope.
‘Lud, after all that I need a drink. And you?'

‘I'll get them.' Phillip stood up and deposited Belinda on the chaise. ‘Ma belle…' he sighed ‘…I vow you will always be ma belle to me. Ma belle, promise me this. That if I can help you will call me. At any time. I'm here for you.'

‘Thank you.' She daren't say yes. She couldn't involve Phillip in whatever might happen. Her father was vindictive, and Phillip was already seen as a rake. Mud would stick.

Phillip handed her a drink and sat next to her. ‘What next?'

I wait.
‘I carry on as normal. I have clients to see. A Lady Frampton I understand, for one.' It hurt that she still had another of his ladies to design for.

‘Ah yes, the lovely Louisa. Tomorrow at two, I believe. We'll be here.'

‘I'm sure you will,' Belinda muttered under her breath. She would not react and throw a tantrum however much she wanted to.

Phillip chuckled. ‘You know how to stop these visits.'

‘I can not marry you.' Oh how she wished she could.

‘Will not.'

‘And that.' Even if she did, would he give up his mistresses? Wasn't it the norm not to? It would nigh on kill her. Better to remain as she was even if every day she died a little more inside.

Oh Lud, I should join Mrs Siddons on the stage.

Phillip tossed back the remains of the whisky, stood up and bowed over her hand, without adding the usual kiss and hold gesture. ‘Then, ma belle, until the morrow. Take care.'

He left the room.

Belinda waited until she heard the street door shut behind him and burst into tears.
Bloody man.

‘Are you sure my eyes aren't puffy?' Belinda asked the following afternoon. Tippen had come across her the previous evening, commented somewhat acerbically about stubborn men and even more stubborn women, and then proceeded to mother her. Eventually, after Belinda had dissuaded Tippen from going after Phillip to ask what on earth he was thinking about, upsetting Belinda at such a time, Tippen had taken charge, hustled her to bed, made a posset and generally cossetted her.

It was, Belinda realised, an experience she hadn't had since her mother had died. Lady L helped her in every way possible but even she would admit she wasn't a motherly type. Clarissa was like a sister. Tippen, however, seemed to be able to slip into whatever role was needed.

‘You look perfect. The cucumber water worked a treat, and that gown will make you the envy of the woman.' The gown in question was an understated appliquéd heavy linen, in rainbow hues. Not at all conventional, but conventional wasn't expected in anything designed and created by Madame Belle. ‘To say nothing of threatening to break his pego in two as he perks up too fast for comfort.' There was no need to say whom Tippen spoke about.

Belinda shook her head in mock despair. ‘Tippen, how could you?'

‘Very easily.' The door knocker was addressed heavily and then the bell echoed throughout the building. Tippen stood up, and Belinda held her back.

‘We have a doorman now, remember?' Phillip had been as good as his word, and not one but three burly men had presented themselves at her door early that morning. One explained, somewhat apologetically, he'd kept guard all night, but hadn't wanted to disturb her. His lordship had told them that she and her premises were to have a round-the-clock guard and they were it. The men were cheerful, loyal to Phillip, and now they said, her shadow.

‘Who is down there? Will I ever remember who is who?' Belinda hadn't been quite herself to pay enough attention and decide who was Redding, who Fairley and who was Darke.

‘Redding. The redhead.'

Belinda blinked. ‘Oh well that's one I should remember.'

‘You'll remember them all. Fairley is fair, and Darke, dark.'

Belinda stared at her and Tippen bit her lips. ‘I swear it's true. Even I couldn't make it up, and they are adamant that they really are named such. I couldn't believe it myself, but it is so.'

‘F…oh Lud.' Belinda shook her head and smiled for the first time that day. ‘Do we get a Baldock who is bald?'

Tippen was spared answering her by a knock on the salon door.

She grinned at Belinda, and mouthed, ‘Chin up and make him squirm.' Belinda gave a quiet laugh and stood up to greet her client.

The lady entered the room with, of course, Phillip holding her arm and behaving the ever-attentive lover.

‘My lady, my lord.' Belinda was determined to acquit herself with disciplined correctness if it killed her. If it hadn't been for the lack of what Tippen called spice between the couple in front of her, she would have despaired. They were cooing like the turtle doves at Sinton. However, on close inspection, she thought Tippen's description of the way the couple behaved towards each other fit perfectly.

‘Welcome. My lady, Tippen will help you disrobe and put the toile on for me to work from.' She turned to Phillip who leaned against the wall and stared at her with an expression barely short of insolence. It didn't reach his eyes, which held a bleak expression. ‘My lord, there are refreshments in the ante room beyond, and also a selection of periodicals.' Belinda thought he'd probably read them all, but she still intended to offer him the opportunity.
Please accept. It will get you out of my sight.

Phillip smiled at her. The smile of a predator ready to pounce. ‘Ah, but then I wouldn't see you at work. How could I resist such an experience?'

‘How could you not?' Belinda retorted waspishly. ‘As it will be no different from last time. Or indeed the three times before that.'

‘Ah, but there you are wrong, Madame.'

Oh how scrupulously polite. She had to once more rein in her temper.

‘This time,' he continued, still with that unnerving and unpleasant look on his face, ‘I'm with the lovely Lady Louisa. I will stay here. Just in case my lady needs my advice, or admiration.'

Belinda wanted to scream. Instead she smiled, and bobbed her head.

‘It is of course your prerogative.'

‘Oh it is.' He paused. ‘And my money.'

As if she could forget it.

Chapter Eight

Was he cruel to tease and taunt her like that?

Perhaps, but at least seeing that she responded in the way she did, with cool and contained determination that he could tell was hard fought for, gave him hope.

There was no time to say more before his latest partner in crime, Lady Louisa, appeared dressed in something he thought resembled a hessian sack, albeit slightly shaped.

Phillip let a slow breath and he was damned sure a predatory expression crossed his face. Lady Louisa Frampton narrowed her eyes in warning. He ignored her. This was purely to rile Belinda, and he'd make sure she knew it.

‘My love, I don't think that will make you my belle of the ball.' Phillip inwardly winced as Belinda paled at his use of her sobriquet, and immediately felt ashamed of himself. There was teasing and there was cruelty. That had verged on the latter.

His companion obviously thought so as well for she put her hand up in the air, and then pointed at him. ‘Stop that now.'

He pulled himself together. ‘You are as ever correct, my dear. You would surpass every one whatever you wore. And “Dressed by Belle”, well even the veriest nobody couldn't fail to notice you.' Phillip turned his head away from Belinda and glared at Louisa so she wouldn't dare challenge him again. This was a dangerous game he was playing. Except to him it was no game, it was his future he gambled with.

Belinda cleared her throat and the two protagonists jumped and looked in her direction enquiringly. Her eyes were suspiciously bright, and her cheeks flushed. ‘If you give me one moment, my lady, my lord, I will fetch the ribbons I wish to use.' Belinda left the room at a rapid pace. The door swung shut behind her with a thump that rattled the delicate china figurines in the wall cabinet.

‘Phillip, my lord, are you sure about this?' Louisa asked in an urgent undertone. ‘She is lovely and you have upset her. Why?'

He shrugged, and strove not to appear embarrassed. ‘Louisa, she is my life, and I want her, only her. She will not accept that. Hell, she will not accept me, and I need to stay close to her.'

‘Not accept you? Why on earth not?' Louisa stared at him intently and then poked him in the chest in a most unladylike manner. ‘Phillip, you haven't offered her carte blanche have you?' She sounded aghast. ‘She's got lady stamped all over her.'

‘Ha, as if,' Phillip said morosely. ‘She offered that herself.'

Louisa gasped and giggled. ‘Oh my. I wish I had been a fly on the wall during that conversation. Hoisted with your own petard I think, Phillip. I must tell George.' She extended a foot out below the edge of the toile she still wore and wriggled her toes. ‘It would be worth at least one new pair of sandals from him.'

‘Don't you dare, he'll never let me forget it. I'll buy the bloody sandals if you don't. Dammit, Louisa, I want to marry her. It's Be…Madame Belle who balks not me. She says she will not sully my name.' He scowled. ‘As I explained, if Lady Rattenberry remembers whatever it is she thinks is going on, then life will be difficult. Lord knows I must be worried to confide in you. George will kill me if I get you mixed up in unpleasant doings.'

Louisa patted his cheek. ‘He'd more likely to call you out for not including him as well,' she said wryly. ‘We both know that. He will be annoyed if he misses all the fun and games.'

‘Hmm.' Phillip wasn't so sure. Had he really been right in involving Louisa in his plot? He had a soft heart, and refused to ask help from anyone else who might be hurt by his actions. So far the ladies escorted into Belle's salon, since the Rosemary debacle, were wives of friends, and he'd taken the gamble Belle wouldn't know all the ins and outs of how enamoured those ladies were with their husbands and not him.

‘Phillip, she looked as if you have ripped her heart out.'

Louisa's words gave him a nasty taste in his mouth, but what else could he do?

Phillip sighed and tugged at his cravat, which suddenly seemed as if it was about to throttle him. ‘I know. Dammit, Louisa, I need to know she is all right.'

‘Isn't there a less costly way of doing it?' Louisa walked to where a half-made velvet driving gown hung, and she stroked the material. ‘This is so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes. At these rates you'll be bankrupt before you win her. Madame Belle's clothes do not come cheap.'

‘Then be glad you're not paying for them out of your pin money.' Phillip bowed and winked. ‘Or George
would
call me out. Luckily I can afford it, and in some perverse way, I'm enjoying myself.'

Louisa shook her head in mock despair. ‘You deserve to be taken to the cleaners, my lord. Talk about devious.'

He flicked her nose. ‘I learned it all from your husband. Now, try and look enamoured. No, not as if you've eaten a crab apple. Enamoured.'

‘You make fun of one so beautifully.' Louisa hadn't altered her expression.

‘Good, then simper.'

Her eyes widened and Phillip glimpsed the humour he'd come to expect from his close friend's wife.

‘Oh, my lord, are you sure I'm worth it?' She leaned close to him and fluttered her eyelashes. ‘Heavens above.'

‘If you says lawks, m'lud, I'll throttle you,' Phillip muttered as the door opened and Belinda re-entered carrying a basket of ribbons. He hoped to hell she hadn't heard their exchange.

* * *

Two hours later, Belinda looked out of the window as Phillip helped his companion into an unmarked, black, smart carriage and followed her inside. As his pantaloon-clad rear disappeared out of view, she sighed. Clever as ever, for the vehicle could belong to anyone, and in theory should cause no comments as it drove from Bruton Street to wherever it had to go.

The carriage moved off and Belinda rested her heated cheek on the cool panes of glass. After Tippen's thoughts on the subject of how Phillip acted towards all the ladies he escorted to her salon, she'd watched the couple carefully. Was Tippen correct? Phillip and the Lady Louisa were at ease with each other—that was obvious—but aware in any way other than friends?
That
she was not so sure about.

‘Well?' Tippen demanded as she re-entered the room after showing the couple out. ‘Am I correct? No awareness, no spark. You'd need more than a tinderbox and some dry wood to set those two alight.'

‘Are you really saying that?' Belinda lifted her cheek from the glass, and hoped she didn't have an imprint on her skin. ‘Or just trying to make me feel better?'

Tippen stood with her hands on her hips. ‘You know me better than that,' she said in a fierce voice, so unlike her normal soft tones that Belinda's pulse jumped. ‘Lying like that takes too much effort. They are friends, it shows, but kissing friends?' Tippen shook her head. ‘Not at all. And I know something I bet he doesn't realise I know.' Tippen grinned. ‘Lady Louisa Frampton is married to Lord George Frampton.'