A Terrible Beauty (Season of the Furies Book 1) (23 page)

There was a soft gasp and both men turned quickly to discover Damaris Wentworth, Duchess of Strathmore standing in doorway, her face pale. Jules swore and crossed to his wife.

“Arabella Winston is living at Stowebridge Abbey? I...I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she stammered. “I heard you were here, Michael, and I wanted to know how Drew is.” Her husband wrapped an arm across her shoulders and escorted her to a chair.

“Don’t upset yourself, my love,” he said soothingly. “You will never have occasion to see her, much less speak to her.” He sent his friend a speaking look. “I dare say Michael will cast her out as soon as he can.” Michael opened his mouth to answer, but Damaris forestalled him.

“Gracious, Jules, I am not a china doll. I’ve born three children and I’ve buried one of them,” she said tartly. Michael noted the sorrow that came into Jules’s eyes as he watched his wife’s mouth tighten at the thought of their infant daughter, who’d died so suddenly. Jules carried another sorrow as well. Since her baby’s death, Damaris had virtually cut herself off from their other two children, as though punishing herself for somehow failing their infant daughter. “I have nothing to fear from Arabella Winston,” Damaris continued briskly. “I was simply surprised to hear her name and shocked to learn that she is living at Stowebridge Abbey, that's all. How did this happen?”

Michael explained the events to Damaris, sparing her the worst of Drew’s situation. “I can hardly credit it,” Damaris said, shaking her head slowly in wonder. “Imagine, her a nurse. Part of me wondered what became of her, though I must confess I haven’t thought that much about her during the years.” She touched her husband hand as it lay on her shoulder. “Too happy to think of unpleasant things, I expect.”

“She probably found herself destitute and forced to earn a living,” Michael said. “It’s not the worst thing a woman in her position has done. In fact, she’s lucky she found an alternative to....” He stopped at Jules’s look.

“Prostitution,” Damaris finished for him. “With her looks – she still has her looks?” At Michael’s nod, she looked disappointed. “With her looks she could have made a great deal of money at it and still eventually married.” Both men stared at her. “For heaven’s sake,” she said, “it’s not as if I’m completely ignorant of the world.” She rose from the chair. “I want to see her,” Damaris stated.

“I don’t think....” Jules began.

“Nonsense,” she declared. “I’ve nothing to fear from her. She tried her best to see me ruined, but in the end, even though she got away with everything she did, I’m the one who ended up happily married to a wonderful man.” She smiled at her husband.

Michael and Jules’s eyes met. They both knew the other woman hadn’t gotten away with anything, but had never shared that information with Damaris. Jules hadn’t wanted his wife or himself involved in Lord Ambrose’s scheme of retribution against The Furies. Michael understood why. Damaris had a soft heart and she might have tried to stop them and brought Ambrose's wrath upon herself. Michael always believed the man's need for vengeance had less to do with Damaris and more to do with the insult to his own pride. Still, no real harm had been done to the Incomparable Araby, other than the loss of her fiance and a well-needed humbling – at least Michael had never thought so. Now he wasn't so certain.

He willed it away the flash of guilt. It was her stepfather who was responsible for her penniless state, he reminded himself. None of them had ever thought she’d leave London for good. To this day the incident in the Malberry’s parlor remained a secret. She still could have made a good enough match. Her own pride had been her undoing, he told himself. Besides, both Jules and Michael knew men who would have done much worse to her for aiding in the kidnapping and ruination of an innocent girl, let alone destroying Drew's future.

“I can never forgive her,” Damaris continued, “but years ago I made myself a promise and I intend to see it through.” She crossed the room to the door.

“What’s that, my love?” Jules asked gently.

Damaris turned back to them. “I promised myself that the next time I saw that spiteful bitch, I’d strike her across the face and tell her exactly what I thought of her.” With that, the Duchess of Strathmore swept out of the room leaving the two men staring after her, dumbfounded.

Chapter Seventeen

What a quandary. Michael continued wrestling with his thoughts as he had done since speaking with Jules and Damaris a week ago. He could understand Damaris wanting some retribution of her own, but Belle Winslow, as he’d come to think of her now, was a female working in his household and as such, under his protection. He would not allow anyone to abuse her, no matter how justified they believed themselves to be. He left his own apartments and headed towards Drew’s rooms still pondering how to best handle a volatile situation. The Wentworths were his best friends as well as his neighbors and he knew from personal experience Damaris Wentworth was nothing, if not stubborn. He had no doubt she would strike Belle, given the opportunity. For the past three days Michael had feared she’d show up on his doorstep before he’d had a chance to decide on the best course of action.

Also, the fact remained Belle could personally answer questions about medical care for the soldiers during the Crimean campaign, as well as the current care available to the general public. Both Michael and Jules agreed that her knowledge still held value for them. As he neared Drew’s door, he passed the little tweenie he’d assigned for Belle’s use. She was running down the hall as if the devil himself was on her skirts. He heard shouting coming from Drew’s room and quickened his pace. As he reached Drew’s door he heard the sound of china shattering and Belle’s voice raised in anger.

“You miserable, wretched, little weasel!”

“Get out of here and leave me alone. Haven’t you done enough? Why did you come here, anyway? You just want to mock me, to make me suffer, don’t you? Don’t you
,
Arabell
a
? Scutari wasn’t enough for you, was it? I’m in this bed because of you and we both know it! You won’t be satisfied until I’m in my grave. Well, at least I’d be away from you!” His statement was punctuated by the sound of more china breaking. He heard Belle utter an oath he never imagined to hear from a woman outside of Seven Dials. Michael opened the door in time to see his brother’s nurse pour a bowl of porridge over her patient’s head.

“Stop your whining this instant,” she snapped at Drew. “If you think you’re suffering now, you haven’t seen suffering.” Drew flung the porridge out of his face, landing some of it on Belle. She took no notice and just stood next to his bed, glaring at him with her hands on her hips. The giant Irishman, Paddy, had retreated to a corner out of harms way.

Michael rushed forward. “What the hell is going on here?” He rounded on Belle. “What do you mean by this? Out...get out!” he shouted. She stood her ground and Michael grabbed her arm to pull her from the room.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she said to Drew as Michael hauled her away. “Paddy, clean him up.”

Michael slammed the door once they were in the hall. “How dare you abuse my brother like that? If you were a man I’d....”

“Not be having this discussion with me,” Belle replied tartly, wrenching her arm from his grasp. “I will not tolerate tantrums, my lord, not your brother’s and certainly not yours. Don’t interfere. Drew’s behavior is completely unacceptable.”

Michael blinked at her. “Drew’s behavior? Madam, it’s your behavior that’s in question here, not my brother’s. Your language is foul and your demeanor, unseemly,” he thundered. “You cannot convince me that Miss Nightingale condones her nurses bullying patients or using language that would shock a dockside whore. My brother has been through enough. You will never speak to him like that again and you will apologize to him this instant.”

Belle moved in close to him, her eyes snapping sparks of anger. “Your brother is a spoiled brat and does not deserve an apology. I will bully him when he needs it. Granted, my language was particularly salty, but....”

“But nothing,” Michael growled taking a half-step towards her until they were nose to nose. The baggage stood her ground. “You will go back in there with me and apologize to Drew. Do you understand me? Now.”

Belle put her hands on her hips again, a favored position apparently, and matched him glare for glare. “No, I will not. You’re to blame for his outburst – you and your mother both! You’ve treated him like an invalid for years and now he’s not fit to be anything else.”

“He is an invalid, thanks to you,” Michael bellowed. “Drew is absolutely right. You put him in that bed. You took his life away from him!” She looked as though he’d struck her. Michael was glad. He wanted someone else to feel the sting of remorse. Drew never would have enlisted if she hadn’t led him a merry dance and broken his heart.

“He is not an invalid,” she asserted, ignoring his accusation. “He’s lazy and manipulative. He thinks that it’s the only control he has over his own life. He learned that from your mother and now you’re playing right into his hands. He’s angry at me for pushing him. If you think I was hard on him today, you’d best not come to see him tomorrow, my lord.”

“You will not be here tomorrow, Madam,” Michael shouted. “You will collect your things and leave this house immediately! I will pay you out and have you delivered to the inn. You may take the coach, or the train to London from there – I don’t care which.”

Belle’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious. You don’t even know what...”

Michael leaned towards her again and this time she had the good sense to pull back from him. “Shut up. Count yourself lucky I’m letting you go free
,
Arab
y
,” he ground out, infusing the name with every bit of cold rage that he could. “You will leave this house within the hour and God help you if either Drew or myself ever lays eyes on you again.” She shrank back from him, no doubt seeing a longing to do her bodily harm marked clearly in his eyes. His voice dropped to little more than a whisper, but it was filled with dead certainty. “If you try to so much as speak to Drew, I’ll have you arrested for trespass or for worse. The Duke of Strathmore acts as magistrate when he’s at home and I’m certain you know how much he’d enjoy having you led away in irons. Almost as much as his wife would enjoy watching it. A prison sentence for theft or for whoring can be a very ugly thing and it would follow you forever. Your word will mean less than nothing against the word of two peers. I can also make certain you’re transported and that you never set foot on English soil again.”

Michael saw the color drain from her face as she lifted a trembling hand to cover her mouth.

He told himself he didn’t care that he’d frightened her, that it was no more than she deserved. “Good,” he said, putting silk over the quiet steel in his tone, “you’ve got enough sense to be afraid. You know better than most that I keep my promises, don’t you?” He turned and left her standing in the hall.

***

Hodges opened the front door with a sorrowful expression. “Perhaps if I spoke with the master, when he’s a little calmer, Miss Winslow, explain about the girl.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hodges, but I doubt he’d listen to you. We both know he's glad to see the last of me. It's best for all to leave things as they are.” She spoke the last in a wry tone, her mouth curved up in a half smile.

“Forgive me Miss, but I'm not certain it's best for Mr. Andrew.”

“Dr. Gillian will send a qualified replacement. Be assured of that,” Belle responded with more calm than she felt. She felt as if someone had succeed in tying her internal organs into knots, then attached them to her feet. Her vitals pulled with every step she took towards the door. She was leaving her friend behind, but what choice did she have? Her knees felt weak from fear as she remembered Michael Lassiter’s threats. The man was behaving like a fool, but he was dangerous nonetheless.

“We’re sorry to see you leave, Miss Winslow,” Hodges said. “You’ve done your best for Mr. Andrew. I wish....” His voice trailed off. He was as helpless as Belle to prevent Michael’s idiocy.

“Please thank the staff for me and give my apologies to young Gussie. I’m so sorry about this morning.”

“I shall speak to them for you. And don’t you worry, Miss. Gussie knows it wasn’t your fault.” He looked out the door at the weather. “I still think you should collect your pay and wait for the carriage.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hodges, but I don’t think another confrontation with his lordship will do any of us good. Besides, I’ll take nothing from hi...from this house. Please look after Mr. Andrew and Paddy for me.” She pressed a note into his hand. “This is my direction in London. Please write me if Mr. Andrew....” Her voice threatened to break with emotion. Belle cleared her throat, “That is, if he needs anything.”

The older man smiled kindly at her. She supposed it was pointless to leave him her address – not to mention dangerous – but these days her life seemed rife with pointless gestures. What was one more? There would be nothing further she could do for Drew, even at his own request. His brother would make certain of that. Belle knew the earl would make good on his threat to have her jailed if she tried to remain here, or if she tried to contact Drew again. She shuddered imagining the horrors of imprisonment and transportation to Australia. No, it was no longer safe for her here. It never would be again, because she’d seen the full measure of Michael's hatred unmasked.

“I’ll see to it, Miss,” Hodges promised. Belle gathered her bags and started down the front steps. She sighed. Really, these sorts of departures were becoming a habit she could learn to do without.

It took forever for Belle to pass the abbey gates and reach the road beyond them, but as luck would have it, a farmer, passing by on his way to the village, offered her a ride in the back of his trap. Belle accepted gratefully, not objecting to sharing the space with several sacks of last seasons turnips and potatoes. The quicker she got away from the Earl of Stowebridge and his brother the better off she would be. Still, no matter how much she told herself that this was all for the best, deep down, she didn’t believe it. Belle’s eyes burned and her throat ached from unshed tears as she took one final look at Stowebridge Abbey. Now Drew was alone again and it had been by his own choice.

***

The clock in Michael’s study struck eleven. He’d been waiting for Belle for more than two hours. He looked at the five pound note he’d set aside for her. It was generous, more generous than she deserved, certainly. At least she’d have ample funds to return to London and to Dr. Gillian. He wondered, and not for the first time, if the doctor was her lover. Certainly, the man had been duped into thinking that she’d no ulterior motive in coming to care for Drew. The best of men could easily be misled by a pretty face. Although Gillian knew her history, the man clearly believed Belle bore neither Drew nor Michael any ill will. The doctor was a blind fool. Michael continued contemplating Dr. Gillian’s relationship with her. If he let himself, he could imagine the doctor kissing her, pressing her back against the pillows of his bed. He let out a sound of self-disgust. What the hell was wrong with him? It shouldn’t make any difference to him who, or how many took her to their beds – certainly not after this morning.

Michael crossed to the bell pull and yanked it. Clearly, she refused to make a graceful exit and even though he had no intention of having her arrested, he would see her gone today, even if he had to remove her himself.

Hodges quietly opened the door. “Yes, my lord?”

“Please tell Miss Winslow to come here immediately. If she hesitates, tell her I will fetch her myself and that she won’t enjoy the experience,” Michael said curtly. Damn the woman. She thought she could defy him but, she’d learn soon enough who was the master here.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” the butler answered stiffly. “I’m afraid Miss Winslow left the house more than an hour ago.”

“Blast it, Hodges, why didn’t you tell me. I had her wages.” Michael felt irritated and oddly disappointed. He’d actually been looking forward to another confrontation with her, something where she cried and pleaded with him to let her stay, where she showed genuine contrition and Michael could.... He shook his head to clear it. What the hell was he thinking? Araby Winston and contrition went together about as well as broken glass and pudding.

“Yes, my lord. Miss Winslow knew that, but insisted that she didn’t want them...or use of the carriage either,” Hodges added pointedly.

“Do you mean to tell me that Miss Winslow walked to the village? Good God man, that’s more than five miles.”

“Miss Winslow refused to stay, sir. She was in a hurry to depart and didn’t wish to disturb you. Once she’d been assured that Gussie was all right after this morning’s incident, she left.”

Michael frowned. Had Belle hurt the girl? It seemed unlikely, but he had seen the little tweenie running from Drew’s room. “What happened to Gussie?” he demanded. “Did Miss Winslow strike her?”

Hodges looked genuinely shocked. “Miss Winslow? Why, no, sir. I beg pardon, my lord, but it was Mr. Drew. He threw a pitcher of cream at the child and screamed something fierce at her.”

Michael had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Are you certain of this?” he asked quietly. He already knew the answer.

“Yes, my lord. Gussie told me herself when she came running back to the kitchen. Paddy and Miss Winslow confirmed it. If I may be so bold, sir, it’s not the first time Mr. Drew has done something like this, though never in front of Miss Winslow.” The butler cleared his throat. “I should also point out that Mr. Drew threw his cup of tea at Miss Winslow as well. That’s why she upended his breakfast on him.”