A Terrible Beauty (Season of the Furies Book 1) (33 page)

Michael rushed to her, kneeling down in front of her chair and gathered her into his arms. He'd be damned if he left her alone now. Belle didn't protest though and for that he was grateful. In a sign of trust her arms encircled his neck as she laid her cheek against her shoulder. He whispered soft words as he rocked her.

“You were just a child, Belle. No one can blame you for doing what you had to do in order to survive,” he said, but he knew that he had blamed her, had ignored all the evidence that told him there had been two very different girls inside Araby Winston, one the heartless flirt and another, a compassionate young woman capable of great kindness. “My God, Sweetheart if I'd known, if any of us had known....”

She suddenly pushed away from him, a look of incredulity on her face. “You still don't understand, do you? My uncle knew and while he grudgingly offered me, his own brother's child the shelter of his home, he refused to aid my mother. I couldn't leave her.” Michael swore at the thought of that young, frightened and unprotected girl having to make the decision not to abandon her mother. “Lord Ambrose knew,” she continued. “He'd seen the baron strike me. Ambrose knew what my stepfather would do to me for losing my fiance´. He counted on it. He sent me a rather gloating letter the day after the Malberry’s Ball, you know.”

“That evil...I didn’t know.” Time slowed to a crawl for Michael and in those stretched out moments clarity shone its blinding and unforgiving light on not only Ambrose and his plots, but on Michael and Rafe as well. He longed for the comfort of disbelief, shadows where he could repeat to himself that they'd only humbled her a little, made sure that because of her crimes against Damaris and Drew she would never be a marchioness. No lasting harm done. She'd simply have to settle for a lesser match. In his arrogance he'd told her that he would have destroyed her after Drew had been injured. Little had he known that he'd already done so. Carriage accident, hell. He'd set a madman loose on a nineteen-year-old girl and blithely turned his back on her.

“What happened to you?” he asked hoarsely. “What did Seaton do to you?”

She studied him for a moment, as if deciding how best to begin. “He owed Elkhorn a great deal of money,” she said softly, “so he offered him me as recompense.” She gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Ironic, isn't it? I'd conspired to deliver Damaris into Elkhorn's hands and I ended up there myself.”

Michael cursed as he surged to his feet. He didn't want to hear any more but he had to know. “Elkhorn attacked you?”

Belle rose from her chair. “Him? That little worm? No. They'd planned to take me to a gaming hell to auction off my...innocence. The winner would claim me for a night, Elkhorn would get most of the money and me as his mistress afterward. I saw future events a little differently and I ran. The baron caught me.” She shuddered. “Some men came and chased him away before he was finished, or more correctly before he finished me. I don't really remember much about that, accept Duncan. He carried me to the hospital. The rest you know.”

“Christ, what did we do to you?” he rasped, turning away from her. He’d almost gotten her killed with his blind anger and his stupid arrogance.

He felt her come up behind him and it was his turn to flinch when she laid her hand on his arm. “You did nothing, Michael. My stepfather beat me, not you, nor, as much as it pains me to exonerate him, did Kingsford. Ambrose manipulated both of you because The Furies, the baron and Lady Bellwood dared to set ourselves against his ward – against him. He would have turned just as viciously against Damaris had she embarrassed him, or if Strathmore hadn’t married her. Don’t doubt that for a moment.” She tugged him around to face her, determination reflected in her stance, her expression and her words.

“I have hated you, Michael – hated, as in the past. I do not hate you now and I have never blamed you for my stepfather's actions. It was his fists raised above me, not yours. Had I married Leo I still would have lived in constant fear, hostage to the baron's increasing demands for money, his threats against my husband and our family and worst yet, his attempts to force me into his bed.” She stepped closer to him, her eyes terrible in both their beauty and truth. “What I truly hated you for was making me love you and then teaching me that love between a man and a woman is rare, so rare in fact that it's almost nonexistent. It's certainly never for people such as you and me. What we call love is simply a convenient lie to make our own lust acceptable to ourselves.”

He had no reason to balk at her words, to deny them. Her position on love mirrored his own. Still, he felt a strange sense of loss, as though she were more distanced from him by this one revelation than by all those proceeding it. Her body and been battered, but it had healed. She'd transformed herself from a vain, calculating girl into a compassionate woman who healed those in her care, but the cost had been the death of her romantic ideals and he had been the man who'd delivered the killing blow.

Chapter Twenty-two

Belle willed herself to continue meeting Michael's gaze. “I suppose that's something to be grateful for out of this mess,” she said. “Some women live their entire lives basing all their decisions on a delusion. You spared me that, at least.”

“Please know that I never intended you to suffer as you have, Belle.” He spoke softly and his gray eyes, usually so cold and distant held sorrow and self-recrimination. “Had you, or Drew confided the situation to me I would have called Seaton out and seen you settled with a man who would care for you.”

“Don't you dare make this my fault, Michael Lassiter,” she snapped. 
‘
If you had just trusted me I could have helped you.
’
  Sentiments like that, no matter how well-intentioned, placed all responsibility on the victim in a situation like hers. Belle would accept neither the sentiment, nor the responsibility. There was only one person accountable for the abuse she'd suffered, the baron.

“I'm not blaming you, Belle. Christ, I would never....”

“You just did. What happened to me that night was not my fault, not your fault, nor anyone's save Elkhorn’s and the baron's. It has taken me a long time to forgive myself for letting Seaton abuse my mother and for being too afraid of him to fight back, or to ask for help.” She covered her face with one hand attempting to push the images of her stepfather's violence from her mind. “I've had to admit to myself that I was powerless then and that I truly believed everyone else was powerless as well. God, Michael, even now I don't know if I would have the strength to push past my own terror and fight him if it ever came to that again.”

He took hold of her wrists and gently lowered her hands cradling them in his own as if they were made of something fragile. “I merely meant that I would have protected you, had I known. I never would have used and humiliated you that night at the ball. I've regretted my actions that night for weeks now, but tonight I despise myself for them because I endangered you then left you to face that monster alone. Despite what you say everything was my fault.” He cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes, into her soul. “I'm sorry, Belle. God knows that’s too little too late, but it's all I can say.”

“I know you’re sorry,” she whispered. Of course he was sorry. Michael was a decent man. Initially her shame had kept her silent about the baron, but now, looking at his expression, she knew that she'd also kept quiet because she would hate to see the pity in his face, the remorse. She just hadn't been able to fight his questions tonight, not after the nightmare. Belle's exhaustion overwhelmed her. She needed sleep, but she was too cowardly to attempt it. Sleep opened the door to her demons. No, there would be no sleep for her tonight.

“You're tired. I should let you sleep,” he murmured.

She sighed. She didn't want him to leave her alone again, but she also had no right to ask him to stay and keep her company, or to hold her and make the shadows go away. With everything they'd been and done to each other he still had the power to make her feel safer than anyone else. “I'm not going to sleep tonight. I'll just sit by the fire,” she replied.

He stroked her cheek. “Let me sit by the fire and you can try to sleep. I promise to wake you if your nightmare returns. I won't leave you alone.”

He'd offered to stay, but did she have the courage to ask him for what she truly wanted? She licked her lips and took a deep, steadying breath. Heaven knew it was highly improper but all he could do was say no. “Would you hold me, Michael? I mean, lie down beside me and just hold me?”

He hesitated a moment and Belle felt her courage desert her. She'd asked too much from a man as much at odds with himself tonight as he had ever been with her. She opened her mouth to apologize for her request, to give him the chance to leave gracefully when he answered.

“Yes.” He filled every letter of that simple answer with warmth and sincerity, then took the chair from her writing desk and wedged it beneath the doorknob to guard their privacy, to guard her as he hadn’t on that fateful night. His simple act made her eyes fill with tears of gratitude and she blinked them away before Michael would see them. He came back to her side and gently took her hand to lead her towards the bed. His eyes never left her face. “Come lie down with me,” he whispered, “and you'll be safe, ma Belle.”

He stopped beside the bed and then looked significantly at the belt of her robe. Belle plucked at it with nervous fingers until Michael gently brushed them away to undo the tie himself. He eased her robe from her shoulders, then lifted the bedclothes so she could slide beneath them. He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his waistcoat and boots. “Move over,” he told her and she did.

“This is probably not he most prudent thing to do, certainly it's the least conventional,” she ventured – not that she cared at this moment. All she wanted was to feel him lying beside her, his body against hers, his warmth and comfort making everything all right, even if it was just for a few hours. She'd deal with the complications caused by tonight's actions tomorrow. Right now she needed him.

Michael stripped off his shirt. “True enough, but you and I have never been very prudent with each other. Why start now?” He left his britches on for the sake of modesty though she supposed it was more for hers than his own. Foolish man. He gathered her into his arms and she curled into him, laying her head on his shoulder and sighed with contentment as if she'd returned home after an endless journey.

“Inevitable,” she whispered.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“Inevitable. Some things are simply inevitable,” she murmured drowsily. “My finding Drew was inevitable. Coming here and facing you was inevitable. We are inevitable.”

“Yes, we are,” he said, kissing the top of her head, “but not tonight ma Belle. Tonight is for comfort, yours and mine.” He stroked her back, easing more tension from her body. It felt so good to be held in his arms. “I almost came back for you that night,” he whispered against her hair. “I wish to God I had. Certainly a better man would have made sure you were safe. I should have done at least that much for you. I'm so sorry, Belle.”

Belle pulled away to lean over him, resting on one elbow as she stroked his cheek. She'd had five years of regrets and hurt, but then so had he. Tonight they would try to heal each other just a little, but she would not have a him play the penitent, at least not here, not now. “I don't want you in my bed as an act of contrition, Michael. If you're here it's because we both need and want the same things. Tonight is for our comfort, but it's also our chance to say goodbye to the past – our past. I want you in my bed, Michael. I always have. You were right about one thing that night. There has never been another man for me but you.”

His eyes widened as he grasped her meaning. “You're saying....”

“Yes, I'm saying that no other man has ever touched me but you. There have been times when I was very tempted, but you're the only one I've ever really wanted. One day soon, I will have you.” She smiled softly at him. “Let go of the past. Let me sleep in your arms tonight. Let me feel safe for the first time in more years than I can remember and tomorrow both of us will feel better.” Michael blew out the lamp and gathered her close to him.

***

“You gave us all a turn, you know,” Drew said. “Why didn’t you ask Paddy or me to sit with you last night?” He sounded faintly accusing and Belle quickly realized Drew was not only worried about her, but also irritated that she'd taken comfort from Michael last night instead of him. Though their relationship had improved, Drew still harbored resentments against his brother for Belle's sake and in light of last night's developments, she needed to help Drew put his remaining anger to rest.

“I thought I’d be all right,” Belle answered carefully. “Besides, I have to learn to handle these things on my own.”

“How’s that working?” Drew’s dry tone held more humor than criticism and Belle cuffed him playfully in the shoulder like she would a younger brother. Drew grinned back at her. Today he'd wheeled his own bath chair down the garden’s graveled paths. His strength increased daily and tomorrow they would brace his legs to help him stand. A painful process to be sure, but if Duncan’s assessment was correct, Drew would eventually be able to walk on his own using only a cane for assistance.

Paddy cleared his throat and Belle knew she was about to receive a lecture from the gentle giant. Levity was not in his nature. “Mr. Andrew’s right, Miss. Just because you didn’t take part in a cavalry charge doesn’t mean you weren’t in the battle for Sevastopol. You weathered other storms too, I’ll warrant. We can help if you’ll let us.”

“You don’t always have to be the strong one, Belle.” Drew said, reaching for her hand, his earlier humor gone. “Paddy,” he said suddenly, “would you mind bringing me another blanket for my legs. It’s a little chilly.” The other man left them quickly and Belle suspected that they'd previously decided that Drew would be the one confront her about Michael’s presence in her bedroom last night. As usual, Drew spoke bluntly. “Did my brother take advantage of you last night?”

Belle felt her skin flush. “No, Drew. I could have told him to leave and he would have followed my wishes.”

“I doubt it. I don't mean to imply that he'd ever force you,” Drew said hurriedly, “but when Michael wants something, or someone he is impossible to refuse. I just want to be certain that you want this too.”

“Yes, no, I mean...oh, Drew. I’ve made a complete cock up of everything.” She sunk down on to the stone bench near him.

“No, you haven’t,” Drew said blandly. “If anyone’s made a cock up of anything, it’s my nitwit brother.”

“Why are you still angry with him, Drew? It was five years ago. I was utterly contemptible to you and you forgave me. Why not forgive your brother? What happened to me was not his fault.” Belle glanced around to make certain they wouldn’t be overheard. Although Michael knew the truth now, she didn't want everyone in the household to know her past. “He had no idea about my true situation. I believe him when he says that no matter how furious he was me, he’d never have left me unprotected.” She reached out and clasped Drew’s hand. “The baron is the one who nearly beat me to death on the docks that night, not your brother.”

“You’re right, Belle,” he sighed, “but Michael had just as much opportunity to observe you as I did. He should have known something wasn’t right. Hell, half the ton would have, if that old goat Ambrose had opened his mouth. If I’d spoken up....”

Belle shushed him. “Drew, love, not many people are as observant as you. You notice everything – every minute detail about a person. It’s quite astounding, really. And if you’ll recall correctly, I wasn’t particularly happy with your astute observations. Even if you had spoken up, it wouldn’t have stopped Seaton. He would have made good on his threats to harm you and then simply removed me from London. One day I would have been found dead at the bottom of a flight of stairs, just like my mother.” She shuddered thinking of her poor mother, so frail, so alone at the last.

“Still....”

“No, Drew,” she said firmly. “The only people I blame is Seaton and Ambrose. One was  brutal and violent while the other was a twisted, self-important old man who knew exactly what would happen to me. He wanted all of the Furies to suffer. Unfortunately, poor Sarah had nothing to do with it, but she still loss everything.” Belle sighed and looked out across the garden as she reached out and took Drew's hand in hers. “As for your brother, let's be fair. He only saw me a handful of times and he was more interested in protecting his family than delving into my history. Perhaps, in hind sight, I should have let you go to him for help on my mother's and my behalf.”

Drew shrugged his shoulders. “I would have probably tired to handle it myself and created an even worse mess.” He shook his head. “You're right, the past is over and it's time we all moved on. I think the only reason I'm still angry with Michael is that he had your heart back then and even though the damned fool was half in love with you himself, he tossed you away.” He looked at her steadily. Her boyish friend was gone and in his place sat a man who'd seen more than his share of the ugliness in life. “You are my responsibility, Belle, just as I am yours. We made a pledge. I mean to make sure that you don't get left behind again and that this time my brother does the right thing by you.”

Belle rose from her seat and leaned against the tree. “Do right by me? What does that even mean, Drew?” She plucked a leaf and twirled it between her fingers, taking a moment to consider what she wanted his statement to mean. “I told him everything last night.”

“And?”

“And I'm hoping he doesn't become a maudlin ass.”

Drew chuckled. “Maudlin, we can probably avoid, but the ass part? Probably not.” Belle threw the leaf at him, grinning as he effortlessly batted it away. “So now you have two Lassiter men ready to sound the trumpets and ride to your defense should the need arise.”

“I suppose,” she answered tentatively.

Drew's manner grew serious again. “Sooner or later the baron will come back for you – you know that – and when he does you will need every bit of protection we can give you.”

Cold hate filled her heart pushing aside any residual terror from last night's dreams. “He will come,” she agreed, “and that's exactly what I want, because then he'll answer for his crimes. He'll return to England when he thinks he's safe from creditors, or questions about my mother's death.”