Desperate Measures (Regency Undone) (7 page)

‘Oh, Isi, I do not need to ask you how you are getting on, it is so obvious from the look of you.  You are looking a hundred times better than you have done in many a year.’

The men had disappeared off so that Guy could show Ralph a new horse he had acquired and the ladies sat in the large morning room supping tea while Sophia
’s little daughter played on the hearth.

‘
Why thank you, Sophia,’ Isabelle smiled wryly.  ‘Did I really look so awful before?’

‘
You looked dreadful,’ her friend declared, ‘but there was no point me telling you as I knew there was nothing to be done to change the circumstances.’

‘
I don’t think I would have survived the last few years without the support of you and Ralph and our secret meetings.’

‘
I was always so worried that your husband would find out and do something terrible to you.’

‘
So was I.  However, he didn’t and I survived.  As I am surviving again now.’

‘
But Guy is not like the Earl?’  For a moment Sophia looked horrified.

‘
No.  No, not at all.  He could not be more accommodating.’

‘
That I think is a slight
exaggeration,’ her friend smiled, relaxing again.  ‘But I am glad to hear it.  He is not the easiest of characters I know.’

‘
No.’

‘
So - you have been married a little over a month now.’  She cast around quickly to make sure no other adult was in the room.  ‘Are your other fears resolved?’ she whispered.

‘
My other fears?’

‘
Yes, your fears surrounding a
certain subject.
’

A conspiratorial note had crept into her voice and despite herself, Isabelle couldn't help smiling. 
‘You are incorrigible,’ she said.  But then her expression sobered again as she hesitated.

‘
Not exactly.’

‘
What does
that
mean?’

‘
Sophia.’

‘
Pah, do not preach to me about the impropriety of discussing such subjects.  If you cannot talk to me, who else can you talk to?  And remember I too was in a situation not dissimilar to yours.’

‘
Hardly,’ her friend returned dryly.  ‘I do not think you could ever compare Ralph to my first husband.  Or Guy.’ 

She sighed. 
‘It is very difficult.  We have not yet … become intimate.’

‘
Oh, Isi, that must change.  It is not good for either of you - and really there is nothing to fear, believe me.’  If it was possible for Sophia to blush, she did, though her eyes were saucy.  ‘Indeed, you do not know what you are missing.’

‘
Oh, Sophia, I think I do.  I am clearly not like you.  I am a cold fish, I know that.  I cannot bear the thought of being touched again - violated.’

Her friend reached out a hand to touch her arm. 
‘Isabelle, I know I am something of an innocent in the ways of the world and I cannot begin to imagine how your first husband must have hurt you.  But believe me when I say it is not always like that, and I cannot believe that Guy, difficult though he can sometimes be, would physically harm you in any way.  He is too honourable a man.  You must surely at least give him a chance?’

‘
Coming on the back of the conversation she had had with Guy last night, Isabelle shook her head dispiritedly.  ‘I’m not sure I can-’

She broke off as the door opened, heralding the return of the two men from their trip to the stables.

‘Ye Gods, it is cold out there,’ Ralph said, rubbing his hands and moving to stand by the fire.  ‘But it is a fine horse my cousin has acquired.   We are thinking of siring him with the mare I purchased this year - any foal born from that reunion would be a stunner.  What do you think Sophia?  You were only saying the other day what a pretty thing she was?’ 

‘
A good idea, my love,’ Sophia responded. 

He looked at her suspiciously, seeming to observe the way the two women were sitting closely together, as if in conspiracy. 

‘So what mischief have you ladies been up to in our absence?’

‘
Us?  Mischief?  What can you mean?’

‘
Now I know you have been making mischief.  You always get that certain look in your eye.’

‘
Interesting,’ Guy commented mildly, turning his gaze onto Isabelle.  ‘How long will we have been married do you think Isabelle, before I too can read your expressions so easily?  I never know what is going on in that mind of yours.’

‘
Well that makes two of us,’ she returned lightly, ‘for I don’t think there ever was a man who concealed his emotions as well as you.’

They were words that were to come back to her later that day as they were welcomed by his mother, for his return greeting was almost jovial as he embraced her warmly. 

‘We are well, thank you mother and yes, we are enjoying married life.  Charles, come say hello to your Grand Mama.’

Charles positively skipped up to his grandmother, in great spirits ever since Isabelle had suggested he ride with them in the carriage. 

‘He usually travels behind, with Nanny Peters,’ Guy had said tersely.

‘
Well, I think as this is our first outing as a family it would be nice for him to travel with us and give poor Nanny Peters a break.  Do you not agree?’

‘
As you wish.’

Now as the old woman finished embracing her grandson she turned to her daughter in law.

‘And you, Isabelle.  Are you also enjoying married life?’

‘
Very much, thank you.  I think Guy and I are getting used to each other’s foibles.’

She could not look at Guy as she spoke, instead taking Charles by the hand and following the Dowager into the house.

‘Take the luggage up to the Blue Room,’ the old lady instructed the footmen, and for the first time it occurred to Isabelle to wonder about sleeping arrangements.  She felt a flurry of nerves in her stomach.

‘
I have put you and Guy together as you are so recently married,’ the older woman said with a twinkle in her eye.  ‘Although that can easily be remedied if you so wish?’

‘
That will be quite acceptable, mother.  Thank you,’ Guy said coolly.  His swift look to Isabelle held a hint of warning.  His mother was the sole reason for their wedding.  Clearly he did not wish her to know their marriage was anything other than perfectly normal.

‘
Good.  Now come through for some tea…’

That night it was just the three of them. 

‘
Claudia and Lionel will be joining us tomorrow,’ the Dowager informed Isabelle over dinner.  ‘That will make Charles happy as he enjoys playing with his cousins.  Claudia was the one who insisted on celebrating my birthday, even though if it were left to me I would far rather forget them now.  But she has a point I suppose - who knows how many more I shall see in.’

‘
Mother, I’m sure you will see a great many more now that you have recovered so well from your initial attack.  But admit the reason you invited us was to keep you sane whilst my sister and her family are here.’

His mother smiled. 
‘I cannot tell a lie.  I do find them all rather exhausting.  And talking of which, I think I will retire now if you have no objection?  I go to bed earlier and earlier these days.’

After she had departed, Guy and Isabelle looked at each other.  Then Isabelle made to rise from her chair. 
’Well, I think I also may retire early,’ she began.

‘
No.  Stay and talk with me for a while if you will?’

She stared at him uncertainly, not wishing a repeat of the previous evening, then sank back down on her chair. 
‘As you wish,’ she murmured.

‘
We have not talked in any great detail since our wedding.  Are you quite settled in at Sheldon Hall now?  Is your room to your liking, for example?’

‘
I am quite settled Sir, thank you.  And my room could not be more comfortable although it still feels a little strange to be living somewhere new.’

In truth she could not believe her good fortune.  Sheldon Hall was a magnificent old residence set in beautiful grounds that she could not wait to explore more thoroughly, and she was enjoying being mistress of such a house.  Her belongings had all been transferred from her previous home and from Sophia and Ralph
’s house, without her even being aware that it had happened, and for the first time in many years she had felt pleasure as she’d walked into her bedroom and seen all her familiar things surrounding her.

She felt a deep sense of gratitude at how her life had changed overnight yet she could not thank the one man who had made it all possible.  The balance of power was a strange thing and at the moment she felt they both held their own cards.  She was fearful of relinquishing any of it by highlighting her indebtedness to him.

‘Good,’ was all her husband said?  He moved over to the fireplace and drew one of the large chairs closer to the fire.

‘
Come sit with me for a while and tell me a little about yourself, Isabelle.  Your family for example.’  His look was shrewd
.
‘I noticed you did not invite your brother and his wife to remain with us for dinner the night of our wedding.  Am I right in suspecting there is something of a rift between you and your family?’

Isabelle shrugged. 
‘I was never particularly close to my brother and though it pains me to say it, I feel I can never forgive him for being overly influenced by his wife in arranging what turned out to be a disastrous marriage.’

‘
I can understand why you would feel that.  And your parents?  Do you remember much of them?’

‘
Very little of my mother sadly.  She died shortly after my sister was born due to complications that were not recognised at the time.’ 

Images of blond hair and a soft smile floated fleetingly through her mind, and as always when that happened she clung to them, trying to draw them more fully into her conscious mind.  But as always, they were far too nebulous to form into a perfect picture.  She had been four years old when her mother had died and it grieved her immensely that she simply had no memories of her at all, apart from a few trinkets of jewellery and a bottle of scent that had surely lost its original fragrance over the twenty two years that Isabelle had possessed it. 

‘My father was a good man though and I remember him well.  He sadly died in a riding accident when I was seventeen years old.’

‘
So you have been something of an orphan these last few years?’

‘
It certainly feels that way, although I look forward to re-acquainting myself with my sister, Louisa soon.  She is expecting her first baby next March as you know and …’ she broke off, wondering if he would think she had overstepped her mark.  ‘I trust you will not object, but I have offered to let her come to us for her confinement so that I may help her when the time comes?’

Guy lifted an amused eyebrow. 
‘As long as you are not expecting me to participate in any shape or form, you are of course free to do as you wish.’

Silence fell in the room before Isabelle found herself asking,
‘And you?  What of your life and family?’

‘
My mother you have seen enough of to form your own opinion.  But suffice to say she has been a staunch ally for as long as I can remember.  My father too was a good man, who lived for my mother.   My sister, Claudia, you met on our marriage day.  She is six years younger than I - twenty six this year.  We do not have that much in common but we get along well enough.’

Isabelle stifled a yawn. 

‘Either you are tired or I am boring you,’ Guy said with a smile.  ‘Do not let me keep you up if it is the former.’

‘
It is definitely the former, and you are right.  I do find myself quite fatigued.’

She rose from the table.  She didn
’t like to think of what might be coming next.  Of what he might be expecting.  All she could think was that if she retired sooner than he, she could pretend to be asleep when he came in and he would not disturb her.

He too rose and said in a low voice. 
’Thank you for not insisting on separate rooms for our stay.  It would have raised my mother’s eyebrows without a doubt and we would not then have escaped her ceaseless questions.  I will leave you ample time to prepare yourself.’

For what? she wondered agitatedly, as she left the room.

As she got to the top of the stairs she was overtaken by an attack of nerves so violent that it threatened to get the better of her.  The sexual act was something she had been able to dismiss from her mind for nearly a year now.  Her husband had been unwell for several months before his death and she had thanked God that he had been disinclined to perform in that way - apart from that last time.

She tried to shut her mind to that memory, aware of the sense of shame that always accompanied it, but this time it would not be suppressed.  She remembered how she had walked into his room to retrieve his lunch plates, to find himself lying in his bed stroking himself with rapid motions.  His eyes were glazed and unfocused as they turned to where she stood in the doorway.

‘
Take me in your hand and pump me, Isabelle,’ he had grated, his voice thick with his aroused emotions.

‘
It is not good for you, in your condition,’ she had replied, walking into the room. 

‘
I do not believe in doing what is
good
for me.  It is not good for me to have no satisfaction, wife.  Do as I say or I will get your chambermaid to do it.’

This was always his threat and Rosie was only a young girl still.  Isabelle could not condemn her to such an act of depravity.

Her expression grim, she moved over to her husband’s bedside and took hold of his shaft.  She’d had many years of practice at this and her fingers worked swiftly and competently.  She closed her mind to his grunts as he thrust himself pathetically into her hand.  ‘Look at me,’ he rasped.  ‘Watch me.’

She did so, but the disgust in her eyes turned to alarm as she took in the puce colour of his face, the bulging eyes. 

Her fingers slowed. 

’
Don’t stop,’ he panted.  ‘Faster.’

She feared that this was not good for him, that she should stop, but some demon within her shut her mind to that knowledge as she followed his bidding.  She continued to slide her fingers along his puny length and he bucked all the harder.  She could not remove her eyes from his face, and when his upper body suddenly heaved from the pillow, a great grunt of pleasure escaping him, she watched disconcerted as with one final gasp he collapsed back onto the bed, his body suddenly still.

She stared at him shocked.  She could perceive no breathing, no movement.  His spill, little as it was, lay wetly in her hands, the only evidence that up until a minute ago he had been a living, breathing mortal.

It took no doctor to tell her he was dead.  Had she killed him with her manipulations, she thought in horror?  Did that make her a
murderess?  She had not intended to kill him.  Though she had suspected it was not good for him, she had not expected him to
die. 

But she could feel no sorrow, no remorse as she stood there looking down at him.  He had died as he had lived, and she would not mourn his passing.

She had carefully cleaned him up, removed all evidence of his final moments and then exited the room to calmly inform the household of his demise.

But it was as if something within her had died that day.   A little like being on a strong sedating drug.  She had felt no emotion at the time and no true emotions since.  She felt numbed inside and out - as if life happened around her and she was no part of it, merely an observer.

Up in hers and Guy
’s room, she crushed the memory.  If ever she got to the time with her new husband where she took him in her hands, at least she could be confident that
he
would not die on her.  He was undoubtedly made of sterner stuff. 

Which was a concern in itself.

She allowed her maid to help her undress and prepare for bed - finding the soothing action of the brush passing through her hair, a balm to her tattered nerves. ‘Is there anything else, your Grace requires?’

‘
No Lucy, thank you.   I can see to myself now.  That will be all.’

When Guy knocked on Isabelle
’s door some thirty minutes later, she heard him, but kept her eyes tightly closed and made no response.  He walked into the room and she could sense him standing by the bed looking down at her.  She had made sure to tuck the bedclothes tight around her body so that all that was showing was her head and she prayed to God that in the dim light he would not notice the pink flush of colour she could feel stealing into her cheeks.

She was aware of every sound
he made as he moved quietly around the adjoining dressing room.  She heard him dispense with his valet’s service and then felt the dip in the other side of the bed as he sank in next to her.  What had seemed a comfortably large bed when first she had viewed it critically, now seemed more the space of a child’s cot as she felt his large and solid length settling in beside her.  Her body was taut as a wire as she lay there and waited.

Nothing happened.  He turned on his side away
from her and all was still.  A few minutes later, the quiet steady rhythm of his breathing told her that he was asleep.

She did not know what time it was when she awoke - only that the dim light of dawn filtered through the curtains into her room, and that although her face felt cold with the crisp December air whipping around her head, her body felt gloriously warm as it had never done in a bed before.  The reason for that soon became clear as slowly she registered the fact that she was lying on her side with Guy
’s warm body curved to her own behind her; one of his arms draped loosely across her waist.  He was clearly in a deep state of sleep and she lay there for a moment uncertain of what to do. 

Her first thought was to register the unusual fact that she was not instinctively scrambling away from him with the need to be free, but this was followed very quickly by the next,
which was that she undoubtedly should be if she wished to avoid any intimacy between them.  But if she did try to draw away, not only did she run the risk of waking him, but she would also have to forego this wonderful cosy warmth, so different to the usual chill she struggled with at night. 

Slowly the tension eased from her body.  It was so comfortable.  She could not bring herself to do anything that would change that.

When Guy awoke the next morning, it was to the familiar though rather distant memory of his arms wrapped around a deliciously female form, his body tucked into hers in a way that instantly made him harden.  Of its own volition, his hand slid up to cup the warm breast beneath the cotton gown.  It was unexpectedly full and soft and he squeezed it sleepily, nuzzling the soft neck so exquisitely exposed to him at the same time.

‘Oh.’

He felt the form in his arms stiffen in outrage and immediately he became alert, recognising the hair on the pillow, remembering where he was and the circumstances.

His hand stilled, but it did not withdraw.

‘
I’m sorry, Isabelle,’ he murmured in her ear.  ‘For a moment I forgot …’ he almost said, ‘who you were,’ but fortunately recollected himself just in time.  ‘Myself,’ he said instead.

‘
That’s as may be, Sir.’  Isabell
e’
s voice was frosty. ‘But if you would care to remove your hand?’

He found himself surprisingly reluctant to do so.  Her breast was perfectly formed he felt - not too large and not too small, and it seemed to fit the palm of his hand perfectly.  And as for the rest of her body.  He was shocked to discover that her slender form tucked so intimately into his had given him the most rampant of erections.  He frowned, struggling to control his bodily cravings.  This was
Isabelle,
not Angelica he reminded himself.  His cold and distant wife - not his languid and seductive mistress.

‘
Of course,’ he muttered abruptly, dragging himself away from her.  And within seconds he had removed both his hand and his offending body from the bed, seeking the privacy of the bathroom that he might deal with his needs in private.

Isabelle released her breath slowly, acknowledging his withdrawal with a mixture of relief and surprise.  She had felt his manhood, so hard and erect, pressing into her and could scarcely believe that instead of taking her he had left the bed. 

There was no denying she was glad of it, but there was another emotion she could not so easily identify.  It surely could not be
a sense of
deprivation
?  Yet that was how it felt. 

She frowned, trying to comprehend it.  And then the reason hit her.  Of course, it was because now the comfort and warmth of his body had gone, there was no ignoring the chill that so swiftly penetrated her bones.  She sighed her satisfaction at this reasoning.  That was
it of course.   It had nothing to do with the strange ache that seemed to have settled in her bosom where his hand had so intimately caressed her.

Throwing back the bedclothes she rose quickly from the bed and rang for her maid.