Desperate Measures (Regency Undone) (6 page)

It was hardly an auspicious start to the conversation and Guy was taken aback at this highly unorthodox reference to his mistress. He could not believe she could bring that subject up in such a matter-of-fact manner.  But now that she had
…

‘
It appears we have been functioning at crossed purposes.  You should perhaps be aware that I terminated my relationship with Angelica, the very same week you accepted my proposal of marriage.  It would have seemed disrespectful to you to keep a mistress on.’

He saw surprise flicker across her features, but it was so fleeting as to
have almost been imagined as she turned her clear green gaze upon him once again.

‘
In that case I am sorry Sir.  I wish we had had this conversation prior to the ceremony when you would have realised that there was no need to dispense with your mistress.  Whilst I appreciate your sentiments, I can assure you it would not bother me one jot were you to reinstate her.  Perhaps if you were to be
particularly
generous to her she might recon —?’

‘
I have no intention of taking up with Angelica again,’ Guy said shortly, ‘or indeed with any other mistress.  It seems a perfectly ridiculous idea to me when I have a wife with whom I would be very happy to share my bed.’ 

Isabelle
’s back went ramrod straight, her eyes flashing. ‘I very much regret Sir that I may not have made myself quite plain.  For that I apologise, but let me put matters straight here and now that we will not need again to have this conversation.’

She took a deep breath. 
‘I have been married once before as you know, and I found the act of making love – a ridiculous description if ever there was one – the most abhorrent and disgusting of activities I have ever had to endure.  There is no pleasure to be had from witnessing men become like animals as they indulge their carnal appetites; neither is there pleasure in the pain their unleashed passions inflict upon their unfortunate partners.  I have no intention of sharing your bed – or anyone else’s I can assure you - and unless you can accept that condition in this marriage, then I regret the only alternative would be to seek an annulment.’

Her face was a deep flush of red by the time she had finished - in total contrast to the whiteness of Guy
’s.  For the first time in his life he truly did not know what to say.  He stared at her in absolute astonishment until, grasping her handkerchief, she rose quickly to her feet and stumbled from the room. 

Up in her magnificent bedroom, Isabelle dismissed her maid, waited until she had left the room, then sank onto her bed and promptly burst into tears. 

She would never be able to look her husband in the face again.  He must think he had married a mad woman.  She couldn't blame him if he now leapt at the suggestion she had made to get their marriage annulled, which would be entirely her fault.  And she did not
want
an annulment, she realised.  She had grown to like it here at Sheldon Hall; had become fond of Charles - was also growing accustomed to the Duke. 

She remembered how he had told her he had finished with his mistress because it had seemed disrespectful to
her. 
No-one had ever shown her such consideration before, not even her father of whom she had been so fond.  She had been the middle of three children and with her mother dying so young, Isabelle had soon had to grow up. 

She had been distraught when on her father
’s death, her older brother, recently married himself, had informed her that he could no longer afford to give her a home.  That notion she was sure had come from her new sister who had clearly resented the authority and popularity Isabelle held within the household.  A marriage to the Right Honourable Richard Rainham had therefore been arranged - a man thirty five years her senior who could not have been
less
honourable.  For an innocent nineteen year old girl launched into such a dissolute household as Rainham enjoyed, it had been traumatic.  

But now - for the first time ever, she had begun to feel she was establishing her own identity.  Guy may be of a cold nature but he accorded her the respect due to her as his wife, and likewise the servants who acknowledged her as their mistress.  Even Charles had begun to call her mama within a week of her marriage.  She had enjoyed taking over the running of such a beautiful home and Guy, true to his word, did not interfere at all in her arrangements.  Even commenting sometimes on the small improvements she had effected.  She had a place here at Sheldon Hall and she did not wish to lose it.

She sat crossed leg on the bed and contemplated her situation.  She should have known her growing contentment could not last; should have known her current situation was too good to be true. 

Yet, surely there must be some way to salvage the situation?  A compromise with her husband maybe?  If she were to explain to him for example the problems she experienced during the sexual act?  But no
… how embarrassing would that be?  She’d been mortified when her first husband had sent her to consult with a doctor and even more mortified when the doctor had examined her and told her that her problems were all anxiety related and that it was tension that was causing her muscles to spasm so that her husband could not enter her.  She had tried to relax, she really had but when he’d been so rough like that, trying to force his way into her, it was impossible
not
to become anxious.

She
’d considered herself very fortunate that her husband’s swellings had never been such that he could manage full entry – something that had fuelled his anger and his violence even more.   But she had grown wily, finding other means of satisfying his needs so that he lay spent and exhausted in his bed with no chance at all of reviving himself sufficiently to penetrate her.

She definitely could not speak of such things with Guy.  But perhaps she could be wily again? 

Though she herself took no pleasure from the act, she had been trained well by one of the whores her husband had been particularly fond of.  Her name had been Miranda and strange though their relationship had been, Isabelle had sensed a sensitivity in the other woman to her plight.  ‘Men are a fool to their tool,’ Miranda had informed her scornfully.  ‘If you manage to control that, there are many ways to deflect a man from his original intention if that is your inclination.’

And it had certainly worked with her husband.  Why should Guy be any different?  If she could satisfy him with her hands, maybe that would be enough for him also and they could reach an understanding of sorts.  

But how to broach the subject?

A knock on her door had her calling out for her maid to enter and she looked up from her bed.  But it was not her maid, but her husband who calmly walked into her room.

Immediately the atmosphere became tense.  He had never entered her room before and his large frame seemed to dominate the space as he approached and sat down on the bed next to her.  Isabelle stiffened, but even though he was barely inches away from her she did not move.  Her eyes locked on her hands in her lap.  She dared not look at him.   She could think of absolutely nothing to say to retrieve the situation, so remained silent.  She felt she had said quite enough for one evening. 

Guy had done a lot of thinking downstairs.  He had been shocked by the vehemence of her    outburst, affronted at first by her insults regarding men and their animalistic tendencies.  But then he had realised that her torrent of abuse had not been aimed at him personally but had been based on her obviously traumatic experiences with her first husband.  He could not help realising that normally he would have found such an outburst from a female extremely off-putting; confirmation of the hysterical nature of the fairer sex and a timely reminder as to why he wanted never to marry again.  But with Isabelle, it surprised him to discover that he had felt anger
that she had so obviously been ill used, and he had no doubt at all that should her first husband still be alive, he would be filled with an urge to call him out and make him pay for his atrocities.
 
Yet where to go from here?  He would not contemplate another failed marriage, yet there was only one sure way he could prevent an annulment from happening – and it appeared she had no intention of letting that happen.

He turned to look at her, his manner stiff. 
‘It wasn’t my intention to distress you Isabelle.  But surely you must have realised that the time would come when I would want to develop our relationship further?  When a man and woman marry, it is only natural that they make love.’

‘
The normal reason for making love is to have children.  I assumed when I told you I was unable to conceive and you said you had no desire for more children, that you would realise there was no need for us to be intimate.’

‘
I’m afraid, for a man at any rate, there is more to the act of making love than simply having children.  A man has
…
needs.’

‘
I have already told you that I have no objection to you having a mistress.  It is quite a common occurrence in many marriages I believe.’

‘
And I have told you that is not an option for me.  My father was never unfaithful to my mother and even when my marriage was collapsing around my ears, I did not take a mistress until our marriage was fully dissolved.  I take my marriage vows seriously.’

Her eyes filled with frustration. 
‘But that is ridiculous when your own wife is saying she has no objection.’

‘
I’m sorry if you think me ridiculous.’

‘
I did not mean - of course I do not think you ridiculous, Guy.  I only meant-’

Guy sighed. 
‘I know what you meant and I feel we are simply going around in circles.’

‘
Yes, we are.’   

They seemed to have reached an impasse and for a while there was silence, neither of them inclined to take the conversation forward.  Then Isabelle took a deep breath, fearing that at any minute he might bring up the option of annulment. 

‘Perhaps it was unrealistic of me to expect that there would be no marital relations at all between us,’ she offered hesitantly.   ‘I am not so ignorant that I do not know there are other ways of satisfying a man’s … urges.’

‘
Good God woman, now you do shock me.’

Was that a hint of humour in his grey eyes and in the twitching of his lips?  If it was, it was gone before she could clearly identify it. 

‘And how exactly would you intend satisfying my
- urges,
as you so delicately put it?’

She looked at him helplessly.  She wished she had not started this conversation.  She certainly had no wish to continue it. 
‘I think you are well aware of what I am talking about,’ she said stiffly.  ‘And I feel we have conversed quite enough on this topic for one night.  Perhaps we both need time to reflect on the situation.  I know I certainly do.’

‘
I think you might be right.’  He stood up and his gaze softened as he looked down at her.  ‘This has certainly been an enlightening evening Isabelle, but I’m sure we can work our way through this.  I don’t think either of us has an appetite for an annulment and all the fuss such an action would entail.  Sexual intercourse should not be something that is feared; and it is something that is all the better when enjoyed by both parties.’

‘
And that is something that is never going to happen.  I do not wish to mislead you on that front, Your Grace.’

He raised a cool eyebrow. 
‘We will see.  I am very well aware of the type of household your husband was used to run.  His parties were the talk of Brooke’s.  And you were present, I believe?  You are presumably no innocent in these matters?’

Isabelle
’s back went ramrod straight but she would not let him witness the acute embarrassment she felt at him knowing the sort of life she had been forced to endure.  His own house party that she had witnessed would have been very tame meat compared to those thrown by her husband, she was sure.  Her eyes flashed.   ‘I may have been required by my husband to be present at his London Soirees but that does not mean I enjoyed them.’ she said stiffly.  ‘And believing what you believe, I am surprised you wish to bed a harlot such as me.’

Guy
’s eyes snapped into a frown.  ‘Did I call you that?’

No, she thought sadly.  But it was how she felt. 

She lifted her chin.  ‘I do not wish to fight you, Guy.  As my husband you can insist on exercising your marital rights, but if it is also your desire that I enjoy the act, then I am afraid you will be sadly disappointed.  I cannot see you altering my views on that.’ 

‘
Maybe you are right Isabelle,’ he said softly, ‘but there can be no harm in me trying.’ 

Before she realised his intention, he bent down and placed his mouth lightly on hers.  There was no pressure, no seeking; his lips were cool and firm for the briefest of times, before he straightened up to take his leave. 

‘Sleep well.  We depart for my mother’s tomorrow afternoon.  And remember Sophia and Ralph will be here for luncheon before that.  I daresay they are keen to see how we fare.’

She waited until the door had closed behind him before prostrating herself flat on the bed and looking up at the ceiling.  The sensation of his lips against hers lingered disturbingly even though it had been the mildest of kisses, and she touched her mouth questioningly with her fingers.  He disconcerted her.  In every way her new husband disconcerted her.  And she didn
’t like it.