Tempting Bella (Entangled Scandalous) (3 page)

“I cannot leave my children a debt-laden inheritance.”

“Ah yes,
les enfants,
who will also be the fruit of Sebastian’s loins.”

“I have no choice in that regard.” Although she preferred to avoid thinking about the intimacy required to breed, she was fully prepared to do her duty when the time came. It would be worth the sacrifice. Her chest constricted at the thought of having a baby to love. The lively laughter of children would be most welcome after the solemn quietude of her childhood.

“Saving Traherne from Sebastian is a laudable goal. However, once the duke passes, your husband will control everything, even more so than he does at present.”

“Stop calling him that.”

“What do you plan to call him?” he said. “He
is
the man you married. It’s only a matter of time now before you submit to him.”

“I submit to no one.” But Orford was right, of course. She
would
see Sebastian soon. Not that she’d recognize the man she’d been forced to marry. All she recalled from that long-ago afternoon was a dark, masculine presence with a grim countenance. Yet his eyes had been kind. She remembered that much about him.

Clearly, she’d been wrong. The scapegrace abandoned her the minute he got his hands on her fortune. He’d had even less use for her than her father. The sharp edge of sorrow comingled with fury razored through her. It was a familiar sensation, one thoughts of
him
always evoked. So she stored it away and harnessed it for the day they would meet again. Only this time she wouldn’t be a helpless child. Sebastian Stanhope would learn how unwise he’d been to treat his wife with complete disregard.

The future Duchess of Traherne had plans for her husband.

…

“Oh, look! There is Baron Beresford’s daughter. They say she is this season’s incomparable,” exclaimed Adelaide Penrose, looking around from her excellent vantage point in the Duke of Traherne’s box.

Sebastian gave her a slight smile. “I myself think you are the season’s incomparable, Lady Adelaide. What do you think, Pen?”

Pen took his seat, already looking bored. “Hmm? Yes, of course Adelaide is the loveliest girl in the room.”

Adelaide’s bright blue eyes sparkled. “Thank you for bringing us, Sebastian.”

He took his seat, hardly in the mood for the opera, but he resigned himself to it this evening due to his fondness for Adelaide. He’d known her since girlhood from the many times he’d visited on school breaks with her older brother. Anything to avoid going home to his own family. Now eighteen, Adelaide relished all of the firsts that came with her come-out Season. She had taken well so far, thanks to her sweet, sunny nature and petite, blond good looks.

He looked around absentmindedly while Adelaide continued chattering with her brother. His eyes moved over the tiered boxes. People in evening dress milled about waiting for the performance to begin. A movement in one of the boxes across the way caught his attention.

A woman in white muslin stood with her back to him, her gown cascaded down over soft curves in expensive simplicity, its short sleeves trimmed in lace. She wore long, white evening gloves and a snowy fur tippet sloped neatly over her shoulders. The woman’s auburn curls were pulled up, but ringlets cascaded down the back of her smooth, pale bare neck. The hair on the back of his neck tingled. Intrigued in a distant way, he kept his gaze on the woman, waiting for her to turn around for a glimpse of her face.

When the woman turned to take her seat, his heart spasmed as though it parsed something of critical importance. She had a wide, elegant face punctuated by prominent, but gently sloping, cheek bones, and a straight aristocratic nose. He brought his opera glasses to his eyes for a clearer view. At the same time, her large, almond-shaped eyes turned in his direction and locked with his. Darkness swallowed her. Startled by a profound feeling of loss, he pulled the opera glasses away from his face only to realize the lights had dimmed because the performance was beginning.

“It’s starting.” Adelaide scooted up to the edge of her seat angling for a better view of the stage. Sebastian turned toward the stage but in his mind’s eye could still only see the marvel in the box across the way. Who was she? He had never seen her at any other functions even though the season was well under way. Chagrined, he suddenly remembered something he never forgot. His wife.

He struggled to bring his thoughts under control. It did not matter who the beauty was, he harshly reminded himself, because she could never be anything to him. Still, as the sounds of the opera crashed around him, his wayward thoughts drifted back to that astounding face. The image of those large, dark eyes widening in surprise floated in his mind.

At intermission, Adelaide turned to him with glistening eyes. “This is marvelous.” Wonder filled her voice. “I cannot wait to see the rest of it.”

He smiled, but barely saw or heard her. Pushing to his feet, he excused himself, only vaguely aware of Pen’s faint look of surprise when he left the box. Forcing himself to breathe evenly, he walked at a swift gait, acknowledging the people who greeted him without stopping. Rounding a corner, he collided with a wall of soft curves and the subtle scent of jasmine. His hand shot out in a reflexive gesture to right the woman.

It was her.

Recognition flickered in her eyes, the color of toasted almonds, an intriguing soft brown dappled with flecks of gold. Up close, the unique details of her face, including the imperfections, made her even more mesmerizing. She had the faintest white line of a small scar high on her left cheek that he longed to softly trace with his finger.

“I do beg your pardon,” he finally said, belatedly remembering to remove the hand he’d instinctively put on her shoulder to keep her from falling. She no longer wore the fur tippet and part of his gloved hand touched the bare skin where her neck and shoulder met. The feel of her supple warmth sizzled through the thin cloth of his glove.

“Do you?” she asked, drawing his attention to an impossibly sumptuous mouth, with a top lip as full and plump as her lower one.

“Yes. Well. Quite.” He winced at the inane words. What the devil had come over him? He couldn’t begin to remember the last time he’d lost his tongue over a woman.

Blinking, she smiled, and it completely transformed her, throwing him off balance again. That unapproachably beautiful face appeared open, expressive, and even more devastating in its loveliness.

Clearing his throat, he tried again. “I should have watched where I was going. Please excuse my clumsiness.”

“Not at all.” Those watchful almond eyes fixed on his. “I, too, was distracted.”

He dared not ask what distracted her. Becoming aware that they were in the middle of the walkway, he moved aside and felt grateful when she mirrored the movement. A glance down at her hand provoked an irrational inward throb of jealousy. An apparent wedding ring encircled her gloved finger.

“Is your husband accompanying you?”

“No, I am alone…with friends of course.” Her voice took on a hard edge. “But no, my husband is not with me.”

Could she possibly have a neglectful husband? What a clod pole. If this extraordinary creature were his, he’d never let her out of his sight.

“My lady?” someone called out, causing her to turn around. “The performance is about to resume.”

“Oh, Orford,” she said easily to a man who stepped out from behind the curtain of a nearby box. Handsome, with a bored glint in his striking blue eyes, he stood tall, several inches above Sebastian, and moved with the lanky elegance bred among the highborn set. His inquiring look cooled when it found and clashed with Sebastian’s, a sliver of something rivalrous touching his gaze.

The man offered a tight, dismissive smile before taking hold of the woman’s arm in a familiar manner, which filled Sebastian with a senseless urge to pummel him.

“Yes, of course, I am coming.” Flashing a quick glance at him, she disappeared back into her box with the man.

…

She invaded his dreams that evening.

He awoke with a start, sweating and disconcerted, his body on edge. Sitting up, he pressed his palms against his eyes, frustrated by his lack of control over his dreams. These were the times when the unbidden reminder of how long he’d been without a woman intruded upon the careful order of his life. He stilled for a moment, allowing the feeling to wash over him, to accept how much he missed the touch of a woman.

Forcing the thoughts aside, he glanced toward the window where darkness still clawed the sky. He rose and sluiced cold water on his face from a basin his valet set out each evening without fail. Toweling off, he contemplated waking a groom to saddle his mount. He rode almost every day, long and arduous outings during which he exerted himself to extreme endurance. Perhaps he’d let the groom sleep and just slip out for a brisk walk.

He dressed swiftly, pulling on the shoes he’d had specially made for mornings like this. Slipping out of his spartanly decorated bachelor’s apartments, he headed for the street at a brisk pace, his steps accelerating into a slow jog.

At least it was before dawn, when few were awake to witness what would be perceived as foolishness. But it calmed Sebastian, helping him keep tight control over certain elemental urges he wished to ignore. He relished the strong, steady movements of his powerful legs and the rhythmic sounds of his breathing, all the while looking forward to the rush of exhilaration he would soon feel from his exertions.

Thoughts churned in his mind, images of the beauty at the opera, remembrances of his long-ago nuptials, his father’s austere gaze, Traherne chuckling. Blowing out a heavy, loud breath, he quickened his pace.

The time had come to reunite with his wife and finally reconcile himself to a union neither of them had wanted. They’d been apart for too long. It was the only explanation for his incomprehensible reaction to the woman from the opera. It shamed him to realize he wouldn’t even recognize his own wife when he saw her. It was long past time to summon her home. Straining his memory, he tried to recall Mirabella’s whereabouts. Last he’d heard she was in Spain. He would send a note through their mutual solicitor. The man who took care of his wife’s financial needs would certainly know her whereabouts.

His mind made up, his breathing fell into a heavy pattern as he ran faster and faster, until he raced through streets of Belgrave Square in an all-out run.

Chapter Three

“Oh, you wound me, my dear,” Orford protested when Bella sank the last ball into a far pocket of the billiards table.

She straightened with a saucy smile and perched her chin on the tip of the mace. “I win again. You owe me three pounds.”

He moved to the mahogany sideboard to pour himself a drink. “You have a man’s thirst for gaming. One would think you needed the funds.”

“The last thing
m’petite
needs is more gold,” said her friend, Josette Laroux, in her lilting French accent, from where she reclined on a green velvet chaise. “That husband of yours is most generous, no?”

The mention of
him
drained the thrill of victory out of Bella. Feeling cross, she threw her stick across the table.

“They are
my
funds, Josette.” She stalked away from the table and plopped down onto a chair next to her friend. “Anyhow, I’m certain he is much more generous with himself.”

Orford held up his glass, inspecting the amber liquid inside. “Still, by rights he can do as he chooses. You are fortunate it pleases him to be generous with you. For now.”

Tabitha, their fellow traveling companion, sat by a large window working with her watercolors. “Exactly so. He could have withheld funds.”

Trying to ignore the plaintive prick in her chest, Bella scowled. “Isn’t it obvious? The lubber pays me off to keep me from bothering him so he can go about his life.” She picked at the gold-corded trim that embellished her scarlet velvet chair. “He has his wife’s blunt without having to bother with a wife. It is a perfect arrangement for him.”

Josette stretched along the chaise, her delicate body arching into the movement. “Husbands are such a bore. You are fortunate to be free of such trouble. Look at all the amusement we enjoy without him here making a nuisance of himself.”

Bella felt a rush of warmth for Josette, for all of her friends really. Without them, she would have been utterly alone.

“And he’s given you leave to use this lovely house,” said Tabby.

“Please.” Bella rolled her eyes. “This is my father’s house, my house, by rights, if there were any justice in the world for females. Sebastian isn’t even aware that we’ve encamped here.”

Indeed, she’d specifically chosen Strawberry Hill secure in the knowledge the staff would be discreet about her presence while she acquainted herself with ducal affairs. It wasn’t just because the servants were well aware she would one day be duchess and they, in turn, hers to command. She’d spent much of her growing up years here and the staff was more like family than her own father. Or husband for that matter.

“When will you tell him you are in town?” asked Monty, an Englishman who’d joined them on their travels after a chance encounter in Spain.

“When I am ready. I need to learn everything I can about Sebastian’s business dealing, and that is best done when no one knows who I am.”

“It’s a lucky thing neither your father nor your husband ever bothered to bring you to town before now,” Tabby said.