Tempting Bella (Entangled Scandalous) (29 page)

The chamber fell silent and it took him a moment to realize the gasping sounds had ceased. Pushing to his feet, he watched the doctor lean over the frail form on the bed, before straightening and bowing to Augustus, murmuring words of sympathy.

Augustus instinctively drew back his shoulders, his chest expanding to fill the role to which he’d been born. Turning, he strode from the chamber, his step lighter than it had been for many years. He passed his brother, who dragged two heavy hands down his ashen face, and his father’s faithful valet, who bowed with deference to the new Earl of Bellingham.

The staff who watched him run to the stables and rear off on his thoroughbred, likely thought pain and anguish drove the dead man’s eldest son. But in truth, sheer exhilaration–bright and joyous–broke free inside of him. Finally, after four insufferable years of waiting, he could have it all: the money, the title, and the lady who inhabited his dreams. The new Earl of Bellingham finally meant to claim what was his.

And nothing and no one was going to stop him.

…

“That’s Viscount Mowbry. He’s just come into the title!” Lady Wilhelmina Stanhope overheard someone in the crowd giggle as the gentleman in elegant evening finery slid his aloof blue eyes over her with obvious appreciation.

Turning to survey the crush of people in the great assembly room, she pretended not to notice his polite inspection, comprehending full well it wouldn’t come to anything. It never did. At three-and-twenty, she’d never had a proper marriage offer. Except for that one time four years ago. If one could count that debacle.

Her gaze slid past the dancing couples to the groups of people sitting or standing at the edges of the hall, against crimson wallpaper and carved flattened columns which glimmered under immense two-tiered chandeliers. The chattering crowd grew louder, the air more still, with each new arrival. Her sister’s come-out ball was proving to be a great success.

“Willa,” squealed her new friend Lady Florinda Bromley, making her way through the throng to Willa’s side. “The viscount is looking at you!”

“Nonsense, Flor, he could be looking at anyone.”

“No, I overheard him discussing you with that fop standing next to him.” Flor, a slight girl with red, curly hair, pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose with her pointer finger. “He said you are a diamond of the first whose loveliness easily outshines everyone else here this evening.”

“Really, Flor, you cannot be certain he was referring to me.” Willa’s ears heated. “He could just as easily be discussing your appeal.”

Flor answered with a wry look. “You’re the one with chocolate-colored curls of silk and skin like a fine cream.”

“He said that?”

Flor nodded, her green eyes sparkling. “And I heard him say the most scandalous thing. It’s delicious really,”

Her stomach lurched. “Scandalous?”

“Let me see. He said something about large, velvet-brown eyes and a sumptuous form that made a man think of things he shouldn’t when looking at a lady.” Flor scrunched up her nose. “I must confess I don’t quite take his meaning. Although, it does sound positively wicked.”

“Florinda!” Willa couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s audacity. They’d become fast friends this season—her new cohort’s blunt nature being one of the qualities Willa admired most. It helped that the earl’s daughter knew everything there was to know about Town, unlike Willa whose parents had always preferred country living.

“Look, he’s coming toward us.” Flor’s gaze followed the viscount. “ I’d wager he’ll ask someone for an introduction.”

Apprehension rolled in her stomach. She darted a look at the gentleman, who did indeed appear to be heading in their direction. He was waylaid by his companion, a well-known dandy and gossip, who put a staying hand on his lordship’s arm and murmured something into his ear. The viscount’s eyebrows inched up a little at a time as he listened, then his gaze darted back to Willa. Only this time the appraisal lacked any pretense of courtesy, wandering over her curves with insolent scrutiny, as though he could see straight through her gown.

“Oh, how rude!” Flor’s eyes widened. “Did you see how he looked at you?”

Willa’s gut twisted. The way he’d looked at her made her feel like a strumpet. It intensified the uneasy feeling that had lingered all evening. The curious glances from some guests, the whispers when she passed one group of matrons. Clearly, rumors of her ruination still circulated. One would think there’d be a new scandal for the
ton
to focus on by now.

Ignoring her discomfort, she slipped her arm through Flor’s. “Come now. I, for one, intend to enjoy this evening. It is my first Season in years.”

It had been an age since she’d circulated among these people. At first, the threat of scandal had kept them away after her first and only season. Then her father had fallen ill, lingering for a year before succumbing, leading to another year of seclusion in the country.

“Willa,” Flor said as they made their way to the refreshment table. “Perhaps I shouldn’t mention this but—”

“Come now, you’ve never held your tongue before.” She squeezed her friend’s arm. “Surely you don’t mean to start now. I would be sorely disappointed if you did.”

Flor gave a grim smile of acknowledgement. “I don’t want to upset you but you shouldn’t be taken by surprise.”

“Out with it then.”

“Augustus Manning is here.”

“Augustus?” A sharp pain knifed through Willa. She’d confided a bit about Augustus to her new friend. Not all of it, of course. She’d never tell anyone the entire truth. “How do you know?”

“I saw him with my own eyes just a few minutes ago. He was heading to the cards room.”

She darted a look toward the chamber in question, scanning the crowd for the man she had expected to spend a lifetime with, who instead became the source of her greatest humiliation. “Are you certain it was he?”

Flor nodded, sighing with obvious appreciation. “It is difficult to mistake a gentleman with looks as fine as that.”

Her throat felt as though someone had lodged their fist in it. “I suppose it had to happen at some point.”

Sympathy lit Flor’s eyes. “Come now, forget about that fribble. Let us walk and dazzle everyone with our superior beauty and charm.”

“I seem to have torn my gown during the last set,” she lied, eager for escape. “I must have it attended to.”

A few minutes later, in the ladies’ refreshing room, Willa surveyed her reflection in the mirror, observing how much she’d changed these last four years. She looked older of course. Her eyes were still too big, her lips so large they were almost vulgar. Her figure was more womanly than the preferred current style, but it didn’t matter. She’d never be a great beauty.

What had really changed most about Willa was what people couldn’t see. She viewed life through different eyes now, knowing it could change it an instant. She’d learned that firsthand, after the disaster with Augustus and then her father’s death. The young girl who challenged Augustus to race their horses against the countryside, her untamed hair flying—jesting with him on the rare occasion that she actually beat him—had vanished. Those summers, and the world of innocent possibility that came with them, seemed like a lifetime ago. Life had not been carefree since then. Nor did she expect it to be so again.

Not ready to face returning to the main assembly room and the possibility of running into Augustus, she headed to the terrace instead. To her relief, the long, narrow structure appeared mostly empty. She took a moment to enjoy her reprieve in the quiet coolness of the darkened veranda. Breathing in the clear night air, she tilted her face upward to feel the soft spring breeze brush across her skin.

Augustus. She understood now that it hadn’t been a love match between them, but they had been friends once. Or so she’d thought. The memories flooded back. The two of them, along with his brother and her sister, had spent countless easy summer days as children exploring the grounds surrounding their adjoining estates. And then the inn happened.

“I see the years have only added to the lady’s beauty.”

A chill shot up her back as the smooth timbre of Augustus’s voice washed over her. Forcing her leaden legs to move, she turned to face him, the dark specter from her past silhouetted by the brilliance of the ballroom behind him.

He’d always been handsome, and the passage of years had ripened that boyish promise into true masculine beauty. Augustus carried his impressive height and long limbs with a lanky, almost careless, elegance that spoke of prominent birth and a sense of entitlement. Perfectly ruffled golden hair highlighted a strong jaw that belied the weak man Willa now knew him to be.

“Augustus.”

“My dearest Willa remains the loveliest rose in all England. I heard of your father’s passing. My sincerest condolences, of course.”

He used her nickname casually, as though they still belonged to each other. “Thank you.” Shock and confusion seemed to have robbed her of any words.

He frowned over the bridge of a nose so straight and symmetrical even Michelangelo would have marveled over it. “Come, Willa, ’tis me, Augustus. What is with such coldness for an admirer who desires nothing more than the precious gift of a lady’s smile?”

A kernel of anger stirred inside her. “There was a time you took far more than that.”

“Let’s not dwell on the past. Not when we have the brightest of futures to look forward to.”

“A future?”

“Of course, with the depth of feeling that you and I can only find in each other.”

Her throat constricted. “The time for any sort of romantic foolishness has passed.” Willa turned away and rested her gloved hands on the cold stone balustrade, the chill stealing up her arms and rippling through her insides. “Surely, you recognize the realities of the world. You certainly assured that I did.”

“Balderdash.” He moved beside her, close enough for his perfume to fill her nostrils with the smell of rosemary, almonds, and old memories that were best forgotten. “I have come to take you for my wife. Nothing stands between us now.”

Her heart took a slight leap. Perhaps she’d been wrong about Augustus. Maybe his regard for her would prove strong enough after all. “The earl has agreed to this?” she ventured, feeling the tiniest sprig of hope. “Or have you decided to proceed without your father’s consent?”

He laughed, but it was a mirthless sound. “It is what the Earl of Bellingham desires above all else.”

“I don’t understand,” Willa stammered. The old earl had always been firmly opposed to any match between them; he’d been in search of a larger dowry, but Augustus had convinced her they could overcome his objections. Foolishly—disastrously—she’d believed him. “How could this be?”

“My father is dead. Not three days in the ground and I have come for you because I couldn’t bear to wait one moment longer for us to be together.” He resumed his smiling demeanor, yet no warmth emanated from him. “Once an appropriate mourning period is past, we shall become betrothed just as we should have in earnest four years ago.”

It took her a moment to comprehend his words. His father dead. After all these years, nothing stood between them. She paused, waiting for a warm surge of joy now that they could finally be together. But there was…nothing. The only warmth she felt came from the anger kindling in her chest.

“I see.” Comprehension sank in. “Do you dare delude yourself into thinking I would accept you now, after the humiliation you inflicted upon me, sir?”

She stilled at the sound of laughter from a couple approaching from the far side of the terrace. She stepped back into the shadows, away from Augustus. She had no desire to be seen alone with him, which would resurrect the old rumors. “Please, take your leave of me. I am not so foolish as to repeat the follies of my past.”

He stepped closer but then seemed to reconsider. “You are even lovelier in your anger, my dear.” A satisfied smile crossed his face. “It appears you have grown up, my wild Willa.”

“Indeed I am great deal wiser than the foolish girl you knew.”

“And a great deal more beautiful.” He looked at her through heavy eyelids. “I dare say the secret pleasures of marriage will be even more enjoyable than I’ve anticipated all these years.”

“I shall
never
look favorably upon your renewed offer of matrimony.” Willa’s stomach revolted at the thought of resuming any kind of intimacy with this man. “I would prefer to lead the apes into Hades rather than become your wife.”

“You, an ape leader? Such loveliness would be wasted on the shelf.” Cool eyes slid over the curves of her body. “I would enjoy pressing the issue, but it won’t do for my future countess to be tainted by further scandal.”

“I will never marry. Not you or anyone else.”

“Nonsense.” He drew back and executed a quick bow. “We are meant to be together. No one else shall ever have you.” Spinning around on his heels, he marched back into the ballroom.

She squelched the urge to fling something hard and heavy at the earl’s retreating back. Furious thoughts crowded her head. How had she ever borne such an insufferable man? To have contemplated a life with him!

Only a foolish young girl would have considered marriage to such a disagreeable man. Her own come-out Season years ago had met with great success, but she’d only had eyes for Augustus, who’d already begun to press his suit despite his father’s vehement disapproval. It shamed her now to admit that Augustus’s undeniable good looks might have swayed her judgment of his character.