A Terrible Beauty (Season of the Furies Book 1) (40 page)

“You’re not leaving!” Michael shouted at her retreating back.

“Oh, yes I am!” she called over her shoulder as she continued on her way.

“Perhaps I should get a set of irons,” Rafe remarked as they stood watching the retreating women.

“It wouldn’t do any good,” Michael growled. “She’d just pick the lock...with her teeth if necessary.” Rafe roared with laughter and a feeling of pride swelled through Michael. She was stubborn, dogmatic and a thousand other descriptive phrases that could be used for a determined and courageous woman. He hoped one day to be worthy of her. “There’s a reason they call her ‘Hell’s Belle,’ you know,” he said softly.

Chapter Twenty-six

“Where is Gussie with my laundry?” Belle asked for the third time that afternoon. She’d returned from the stillroom having packed her tinctures and medicinal herbs only to learn that Gussie, under Mrs. Babcock’s direction, had gathered up all of Belle’s linens for washing.

“Good starching takes time,” Mari said lightly from her seat by Belle’s window. “You wouldn’t want them rushing and putting scorch marks on your drawers.”

“I don’t need starch in my drawers,” Belle ground out.

Mari trilled out a laugh, “No, you certainly don’t.”

Belle narrowed her eyes at her friend. “I suspect the earl’s fine hand in this, but it won’t do him any good. If I have to leave my petticoats behind I’ll do it. I am not staying here and endangering this household.” She snatched open the door to the wardrobe. “Where the hell is my valise?”

Mari ignored her cursing and stood up watching Belle soberly. “I understand how you feel, but surely you realize that if you leave Michael and Rafe will go with you. Neither one of them would ever let you face Seaton alone, especially not after....” Mari looked at the floor.

“He almost killed me,” Belle finished for her. She sat on the bed, the chilling reality of her situation draining the fight from her. “I’m frightened, Mari,” she whispered. “I couldn’t protect my mother from him. What if he hurts someone else I care about? I couldn’t bear it. When you’re a child you believe there are monsters hiding under your bed, then the adults tell you that there are no monsters. No one teaches you what to do when the monster is real – when he never goes away, not even in the daylight. For all my brave talk about justice for my mother, I don’t know if I have the courage to face Seaton again.”

Mari sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “He’s already hurt people you care about, Belle. Dr. Gillian’s injuries were unfortunate, but you being in London wouldn’t have prevented them, nor would it have prevented the attack on Michael. In all likelihood more people would have suffered.” Belle considered Mari’s words. They had merit. Nettie, Mrs. Tav, or Molly. Any one of them could have been hurt, or killed by Seaton. She would stay away from London, but she couldn’t remain at the Abbey. Mari sighed. “I can see the wheels turning in your head and let me remind you that Michael will never let you go haring off just to protect us all. Neither will Rafe. My brother wishes to make amends to you. Let him help you. When Sarah’s scandal broke I’d feared Rafe was behind it and when the names in the betting books came to light I had my answer. I didn’t speak to him for more than a year. Now to learn of what he did to you.” Mari shook her head as she dropped her arm from Belle’s shoulders.

“It’s not my forgiveness he needs,” Belle said, “it’s Sarah’s. In either case, you shouldn’t feel responsible for his actions. Rafe is a grown man – in theory.”

Mari looked as if she’d like to say more on the subject of Sarah, but she didn’t. Instead, she took hold of Belle’s hand. “You’ve forgiven Michael, haven’t you?” Belle nodded not trusting herself to speak dispassionately about the man. Mari looked at her shrewdly and Belle knew with a sinking sensation that she wasn’t fooling the woman. “Ah, so that’s the way it is between the two of you,” she said with a smile. “He loves you and you love him.” Belle felt her cheeks turn to flame as Mari chuckled. “This is good news, you dunce. Now there’s no earthly reason for you to take on Seaton alone.

Belle sprang up from the bed and began pacing around the narrow confines of her room. “There’s every reason. I’ve caused this family enough pain. I’ll not add to it by bringing my troubles to their door.” She stopped walking and turned to face her friend, her expression both desperate and pleading. “Mari, I don’t even know what love means. I doubt I ever really did. As a debutante it meant finding a young man of character and breeding, one who doted on me. I saw love through the eyes of a romantic schoolgirl. I waited like a naive child to be rescued, prayed to be rescued and the entire time I never understood that in the end the only person we can depend upon to rescue us is ourselves.”

“And admitting you love Michael will somehow make you weaker? That’s not how it works, Belle. When the right two people fall in love they join as one. Their union makes them strong enough to weather the coldest storms life can throw at them.” Mari rose from her seat and took hold of Belle by her shoulders. “You reminded me of that when you spoke to me about Rose. I was not stronger for shutting Jules and the boys out of my life. I’d forgotten that I didn’t have to face my pain and my fears alone until you showed me the way back to my family.”

Someone knocked on Belle’s door – someone timid and unsure of their welcome. Belle opened the door to find one of the parlor maids nervously twisting her hands in her apron. She bobbed a curtesy at Mari and then one at Belle. “If you please, Your Grace, his lordship requests that you and Miss Winslow join him and His Grace, along with Mr. Kingsford and Mr. Andrew in the Rose Salon.”

“Tell his lordship we’ll be along presently,” Mari answered. The maid bobbed again and hurried away. “Come, Belle. I’m certain they’ve spent the all day hatching a plot, bless their hearts. The least we can do is hear them out.”

Belle noted the tension in the air soon as soon as she entered the room. The men rose to greet them, Drew struggling to his feet proudly as he used the canes for support and with minimal assistance from Paddy. Belle beamed with pride and he gave her a sheepish grin in return. Mari glared at her brother as she sailed by him, pointedly ignoring his chuckle as she chose a seat on the settee where her husband stood patiently waiting for her. She sniffed her displeasure at him as well as she sat down. Rafe tipped his fingers in Belle’s direction in a mock salute while Michael regarded her with immovable stubbornness. She ignored both men and claimed a chair by the window at a slight distance from them all. Michael muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘Damed stubborn female.’

“We’ve taken measures to secure the house and grounds both here and at Strathmore,” Michael stated firmly.

“Then it is vital that I leave,” Belle said firmly. “I won’t bring harm to your doorstep, my lord.”

Michael shook his head. “You haven’t brought harm here. He’d still come whether you are here or not. He wants revenge on Rafe and me, as well as on Drew. Apparently, someone broke into Branfel’s house in London. Luckily, the family had left town for their estate in Scotland.”

“They fished Elkhorn out of the Thames last week,” Rafe added. “Beaten, throat slit, ears cut off.” The duchess gasped earning Rafe a glare from her husband. The other man ignored it. “I’m not going to dress this up prettily,” he said. “Belle wouldn’t believe it for one, and for another, no one should mistake how dangerous his man is. I received information from abroad just before leaving London. Seaton, or rather his alias, Geoffrey Kenton, has left a string of victims from Italy to France. Mostly women.”

“Italy.” One word, with a wealth of meaning. Belle stared at him, stricken, a question she dare not ask in front of everyone frozen behind her lips.

Rafe noted it. “She’s safe,” he said quietly, but his eyes held hers long enough to convey a silent message
,
Yes, I kno
w
. Belle’s heart hammered in her chest. How much did he know and what would he do with his knowledge?

“I’ve put Mr. Ferris on alert at the inn,” Michael said to Belle. “He’ll watch for strangers in the village and notify us at once. I’ve also dispatched two men to watch the train station in Fairly as well. Until Seaton is apprehended, no one from this estate goes anywhere alone.”

Belle looked around the salon at the people who trained their determined gazes on her. She sighed.”You must surely understand why I can’t remain here. I won’t go to London, but I can go to Scotland to a place remote enough that Seaton will be hard pressed to find me.”

“No,” Michael said, all cold authority. Belle glared at him.

“Scotland could work,” Rafe mused, completely ignoring Michael’s furious look. “I have a cottage in the Hebrides. It’s always damp and cold and stormy more often than not, but it should work. It will be cramped for space with two of us, but...we should be able to manage,” he finished suggestively. Belle jumped up from her seat as Mari sputtered with indignation on her friend’s behalf. Jules stayed his wife’s protests by a gentle touch on her arm. Belle glanced at Drew. He and Paddy both tried to hide smiles. Only Michael stood there glaring at Rafe. Belle made a sound of disgust.

“Nicely done,” she said. “All of you know I wouldn’t accompany this man willingly to the nearest hog pen, let alone the Hebrides.”

“I’m wounded,” Rafe said drily.

“Don’t tempt me,” Belle shot back.

Rafe laughed and stood up. “Now this rebellion has been laid to rest, I’m off to consult with my men. Ladies.” He bowed slightly, winked at Belle and left the room.

“You were right,” Drew said, handing Paddy something that looked suspiciously like a folded five-pound-note. “I was sure she’d grab the poker and cosh him on the head.” The Irishman silently pocketed the money.

Belle studied the people around her and allowed herself a few brief moments to bask in the glorious feeling of belonging. Months ago she’d arrived at a hostile household and squared off against Michael, Jules and Mari, three people who had every reason to despise her. Belle folded her arms across her chest, her favored protective stance. Her hands hugged onto her upper arms for all they were worth lest she burst into tears of gratitude for the concern and affection she saw in the faces around her. She had her friends, true, but for the most part, hers was a solitary existence. It was better that way, because sooner or later something happened to drive home the point that she was no longer fish, nor fowl and that outside of a sick room, there was no place she truly belonged.

Michael crossed to her side, his manner still guarded as though he anticipated more trouble. Good. She liked intelligent men. “You think you’re terribly clever, don’t you?” she demanded.

“In what way?” he asked smoothly.

Belle leaned closer and dropped her voice to avoid being overheard. “By stealing my undergarments, you cad.”

“Actually, that was Mrs. Babcock’s idea. I merely approved it. Mari had the dangerous task of keeping you occupied until they’d gotten everything out of your room.”

She felt tears start at the back of her eyes and blinked rapidly to clear them away. “I don’t stand a chance against all of you, so I’ll stay, but I hate the thought of endangering any of you.” 

Michael shook his head and clenched his fist in an attempt to hide the fact he’d been about to reach out and stroke her cheek.  Although no one could overhear their conversation, they were certainly visible to everyone. Belle risked a furtive glance at Mari and Jules and to her chagrin they both smiled at her in a knowing fashion.

“You heard Rafe,” Michael said. “Seaton wants revenge on all of us. We’re safer the closer we remain to one another. Besides, I’ll not risk him getting his hands on you again. I have my heirs to consider.” His tender words filled her heart and for a moment she almost relented and  spoke the words he wanted to hear. As if he sensed a softness in her he whispered, “What day is it?”

Belle took a steadying breath and replied saucily, “Still Tuesday, my lord. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d best go find my knickers. I doubt you’d want me catching cold.”

“No chance of that
,
ma Bell
e
,” he murmured. “If I have my way tonight you’ll be anything but cold.” Belle felt heat rush into her face as well as into more southern areas of her anatomy. She bobbed a quick curtsey towards Mari and Jules and hurried from the room, Michael’s chuckle following her.

Belle crossed the entry hall heading towards the still room to begin unpacking her medicinal chest when she heard Rafe Kingsford call her name. She steeled herself for the confrontation knowing it was both necessary and inevitable. She must learn how much he knew of Sarah’s true situation. The man could still cause her friend no end of trouble.

Rafe stepped out of the shadows to join her. “Is she happy?” he asked. No contrivance, no mincing of words for this man. “Does he...care for her?”

After a brief hesitation Belle answered him. “She is happy, or as happy as anyone forced into exile can be, and yes, I believe they both love each other very much.”

Rafe nodded, every nuance of emotion purged from his face. Only an isolated shard of pain hovering in the back of his eyes betrayed his mask and only someone with Belle’s skill at reading a person’s subtle tells would be able to see it. He cleared his throat and his voice came out with a slightly raspy edge to it. “And the boy, does he treat him well?”

Belle kept eye contact with him, refusing to flinch. “Of course,” she said calmly, “the conte loves his son very much. Their’s is an old and revered line. Plus, the Conte di Fattore holds considerable political power in Sardinia.” As warnings went, it was understated, but Rafe took her meaning clearly enough.

“For the time being,” he allowed, “but the Italian principalities exist on an ever-shifting landscape. A powerful statesmen today can easily fall out of favor tomorrow and find himself swinging from a flagpole. If Sarah, or the boy should ever need....” His voice trailed off. He didn’t need to finish the sentence. They’d come to a tacit understanding.

“I will contact you immediately should the need arise.” With a brief nod of his head he walked away. Belle watched him go and for the first time since meeting the man she felt a stir of sympathy for him. Sarah hadn’t been the only one to suffer after all.