Further Than Passion (35 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Holt

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Regency

BOOK: Further Than Passion
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"How long are you intending to lie there?" sh
e
snarled.

"I'm not certain."

"Leave at once."

"I will. When
I'm ready."

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon," she complained. "I shouldn't have to suffer your attentions in the middle of the day."

"You'll
suffer
them whenever I'm in the mood
."

"You're a beast. I can't abide this torment. It's foul enough that you traipse in here every night, drunk and stumbling about."

He sighed. How could such a marvelous scheme have gone so terribly awry? All he'd wanted was some fast cash, a method of stabilizing his finances. Was that too much to ask?

Instead, he'd been saddled with an impossible, impertinent child, and without her fortune as an incentive, the notion of binding himself to her had been so repugnant that he'd actually considered absconding, running off to France or America, and if he'd had a penny to his name, he would have.

Despite his dire fiscal situation, he'd pondered the

 

Further Than Passion
              
317

prospect anyway, but with Stamford acting as Melanie's temporary guardian, Elliot was convinced that Marcus would have chased him to the ends of the earth.

She was nagging again, and his head throbbed.

"About what are you jabbering?"

"You remember the gown we discussed. When can I buy it? And I must have the matching hat."

As he'd explained to he
r

o
ver and over!—
s
he wasn't at Doncaster, and her greedy mother wasn't controlling the purse strings. He hadn't the wherewithal to spoil her as Regina had, but Melanie couldn't seem to grasp that by aligning herself with him she caused her life to take a drastic turn.

"I've previously informed you that I haven't the funds for such folderol."

"What am I to do? Tramp about London looking like a pauper?"

He rolled his eyes. When she'd moved in, his servants had carried trunk after trunk up the stairs. He'd been in her room. It was packed to the rafters.

"Money doesn't grow on trees. You can't snap your fingers and make it appear.
"

"I don't care where you find more. Just find some!"

"Why don't you visit your brother to see if he's decided on a settlement for us."

"You know he hasn't."

Elliot still wasn't positive of what had happened to the assets in her dowry, but if his luck got any worse, he'd go out in the yard and shoot himself!

"Check with him anyhow," he
c
hided. "Maybe if you pester him, he'll hurry up, merely to be shed of you."

"Why must I handle it?"

 

318
                          
Cheryl Holt

He glared at her. "Need I remind you that I thought 1 was obtaining a rich wife?"

"And is it my fault the titles were mixed up? That ownerships are in dispute? How was I to know? Are you supposing my mother confided in me about anything?"

"Don't mention Regina to me.
"
Since before the wedding, Stamford had kept her away, a boon for which Elliot would be eternally grateful.

"I'll do more than
mention
her. I'm going to ask her to come live with us. She could rectify our financial dilemma straightaway, which is more than I can say for you."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Shut up, Melanie."

"I won't. You dragged me into this mess, and you'll drag me out of it. I insist!"

He'd had enough. Of her impudence, of her attitude, of her condescension. He climbed off the bed, and she whipped around, refusing to gaze upon him when he was nude. As she'd made explicitly clear, she found the male body repulsive and grotesque.

He approached her from behind and squeezed her shoulder, forcing her to face him.

"Drop down on your knees."

"I won't."

"Now!"

Her antipathy was palpable, but he was resolved, and she grudgingly descended, which positioned her directly in front of his phallus. It began to swell, and she glanced away, unable to hide the fact that she was sickened by the sight.

 

Further Than Passion
              
319

"Somewhere in our vows, I heard the term
obey
,
"
he stated. "We'll hit it off much better if you behave as you're told."

"I've knelt as you demanded. What is it you want from me?"

She was mutinous, a vicious adversary, and if he wasn't cautious, she'd likely strangle him in his sleep when he least expected it. "You must learn to do something with that mouth besides sass."

He grinned, more aroused than he'd been in a very long while.

******************

Regina stared out the window of the modest, dreary house Christopher had purchased for her. The barren Cornwall coast stretched to infinity, the wind lashing the rocky shore, a few scraggly trees bending with the onslaught. She spun away, wearied by her view of the clouds blowing in, of the icy rain that never ceased.

The hovel in which she'd resided years earlier, as a new bride, was located just down the road. How she'd hated that spot, and she couldn't quit obsessing over how short a distance she'd traveled in her life. She'd never actually believed Doncaster was hers, had always suspected that her fortunes could be reversed. In preparation for this very day, she'd hoarded her stashes of pilfered money, but it had been for naught.

Stamford had recovered every farthing.

Oh, to be brought down! By Stamford of all people. With her treacherous, disloyal son as his accomplice. The shame! The humiliation! How it galled! How it kindled her fury!

 

3
20

There wa
s
a rapping on the parlor door, and without waiting for permission, Edith Fitzsimmons entered, strutting in as though she owned the place. Stamford had sent her to stay with Regina, and she had instructions to manage Regina's household, to act as Regina's warden and jailer, to tattle and gossip regarding Regina's every move.

When will you leave?
Regina had once inquired.

When Lord Stamford tells me I may,
the bossy woman had proclaimed.

Fitzsimmons held out a letter. "Lord Stamford has written. He's still searching for the silver candlesticks you stole from Doncaster. Are you ready to inform him as to where they are?"

"Stamford can choke on a crow."

Fitzsimmons smiled her grim smile. "It will be my pleasure to convey your response in my next report."

She was enjoying Regina's incarceration, liking to brag how she'd befriended the harlot Selena Bella. Fitzsimmons relished the punishments Stamford dished out, and she never stopped haranguing as to how she wished Regina had suffered a more dire fate.

Fitzsimmons turned to go, and Regina was tempted to let her depart without further discussion, but Regina yearned to have the final say, the last word. Fitzsimmons was entirely too insolent, too eager to help Stamford.

Regina was anxious to bring her down a peg, to box her into a corner. There had to be a way to manipulate her, to gain the upper hand, but so far, Regina hadn't detected it.

"I'm leveling another complaint," Regina said. She loathed it that others had hired her servants, that none of them were beholden to her for their wages. They
were

 

321

disrespectful, curt
,
and slow. "An hour ago, I ordered a plate of petit fours, and I haven't received them."

Edith chuckled maliciously. "We've used up ou
r
allotment of sugar. We can't afford more until the first of the month, when Stamford posts your check. There are no candies remaining, nor will any be prepared for you."

"I demand that they be provided."

"You may
demand
all you like, but they won't be supplied. We exist on a limited income. You'll have to make do without."

Make do without.
...

The comment reverberated through the room, and Regina shuddered. It was her worst nightmare coming true. She couldn't bear to be poor, couldn't tolerate scrimping and saving. She'd spent her life trying to avoid that very catastrophe.

Her stomach rumbled with hunger, but Edith walked out, shutting the door with a
f
irm click, leaving Regina to stew and plot revenge.

******************

Pamela hovered behind a hedge at the Stamford town house, watching as the Doncaster coach pulled up to the curb.

Chri
s
... I've found you at last!

Her emotions were at an all-time low. Where had he been? Why had he kept himself away from her? Didn't he know
h
ow much she loved him? Didn't he realize that their separation was killing her?

They'd both imbibed of the magic potion. Surely, it had had some effect on him! He couldn't forsake her!

She hated to be out and about, hated having people

 

322
                          
Cheryl Holt

recognize her, so she tugged on her hood, shielding her identity.

Her black eyes had healed, but the bend in her nose, where Regina had broken it, would never disappear. It
  
. was blatant, obvious, and whenever others espied it
,
   
they laughed and pointed, mortifying her by reminding her of the degrading assault.

How her situation had plummeted since that ignominious evening!

With Elliot wallowing in wedded bliss, he'd evicted her as a guest, so she'd been forced to seek asylum elsewhere. Regrettably, High Society could be brutal, and she'd quickly discovered how few friends she reallv had.

She'd been reduced to taking shelter at the Carly
l
e Hotel, but her meager allowance wasn't anywhere near sufficient to meet her obligations. The manager was posing embarrassing questions about her bills, about when they might be paid.

Stamford had offered to purchase a small house for
her, but as it had been located far outside the fashion
able neighborhoods where she expected to reside, she'd
refused to accept it.
     

Just thinking about his domineering manner had her bristling. How dare he drive her to living like a com
m
on vagrant!
           

The carriage door was opened, and she rushed from her hiding spot. "Chris ... Chris ... it's me, Pamela."

She gazed up, her love shining through; only it wasn't Chris who emerged. It was the little brunette,
 
who'd been with him at Elliot's, and on her left hand
,
she was wearing a diamond the size of Ireland. What
could it mean?
 

 

323

He wouldn't hav
e
... Gad!
Pamela couldn't finish the thought.

The girl climbed out, and Pamela was struck anew by how beautiful she was, how poised and confident for someone so young.

"Lady Pamela," she greeted, a definite Italian lilt to her speech, "how marvelous to see you. I was so hoping we'd have a chance to talk."

"You were?"

"Yes." As if they were bosom companions, she linked her fingers with Pamela's and squeezed tight. "Chris told me everything you did for us. I'm so very grateful."

Suspicious, Pamela frowned. "What did I do?"

The girl glanced to the side, at the footmen with their curious ears, and she leaned in and whispered, "Silly, you can't have forgotten. You taught him how to make love to a woman so that he could better ease my virginal fears."

Pamela blanched. "That's what he said?"

"Don't be so modest
,
" Selena gushed. "Due to your selfless assistance, our wedding night was glorious. Absolutely glorious. Thank you."

"But
I
... but
I
..."

Imperious as any princess, the impudent hussy swept away, waltzed up the steps of what had once been Pamela's home, and was welcomed inside by Pamela's old butler. The door was closed behind her, sealing her in, and the sole indicator that she'd been there was a lingering hint of her expensive perfume.

Like a beggar, a supplicant, Pamela loitered on the walk, staring up at the mansion, its polished windows gleaming in the sun. She was barred from it, from her

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