Tempting Bella (Entangled Scandalous) (6 page)

He’d experienced a surge of optimism as he strode from room to room inspecting the activity, his Hessians clicking against the marble floors, the seductive aroma of flowers wafting through the rooms. He looked forward to reuniting with Mirabella and hoped they would soon be blessed with a child. Perhaps it would draw them together. Focusing on his wife and family would help him overcome his unfathomable infatuation with the beauty from the opera, which was beyond ridiculous. For devil’s sake, he didn’t even know her name.

It was while contemplating a hopeful future with his wife that his butler found him, bearing a note on a silver tray. In a brief, formal missive, Mirabella informed her husband that her return had been delayed, their reunion deferred for another sennight. She asked for his understanding. Sebastian scowled. His patience had already run out.

“I say,” said Basil breaking into his thoughts. “Isn’t that Cam’s friend, David Selwyn?”

Sebastian caught sight of his eldest brother’s longtime friend walking with a small group of people. “So it is.”

“I hear he is finally betrothed,” Basil said.

Selwyn’s rank did not match that of their brother, the Marquess of Camryn, but he made up for it with an obvious intelligence and a good-natured temperament. Not a particularly handsome man, Selwyn had a pleasant demeanor and took a great deal of care with his appearance and manners.

“Isn’t he betrothed to Bromley’s daughter?” Penrose asked.

Basil whistled. “Bromley? David Selwyn and the daughter of an earl? It’s a fine match.”

“He is not a born gentleman,” remarked Lady Hervey. “I understand the sister married a baron. Those commoners have done a fine job of marrying their betters.”

“Mr. Selwyn is a fine gentleman.” Sebastian did not care for Lady Hervey on account of her being both a snob and a gossip.

“It’s a match made in heaven. Selwyn’s flush in the pockets and Bromley’s got pockets to let,” said Pen.

Basil crossed his arms over his chest. “The perfect marriage. Bromley gets the blunt and Selwyn lands a lady above his station.”

Spotting them, Selwyn waved his friends onward and stepped toward their box. “Gentlemen.”

“Basil here tells us you’re about to get leg shackled,” Sebastian said after the introductions were made all around.

The other man nodded. “Yes, I’m fortunate Lady Florinda was gracious enough to accept my suit. And how are Camryn and his lovely marchioness?”

“They are well,” answered Basil. “They’ll be in town with the children soon enough. Charlotte isn’t one to rusticate for long periods of time.”

“Why, look,” said Penrose, watching people strolling by, “isn’t that the woman from Claymont’s library?”

Sebastian’s heart bucked. Following the direction of Pen’s gaze, he caught sight of her chatting animatedly with her companion. She wore a full-length cornflower-blue pelisse trimmed with steel-blue cording. The two of them strolled down the main walkway between the supper boxes at a leisurely pace, seeming to enjoy the amusements, pointing at something that caught their fancy. Irritation shot through Sebastian when he recognized her companion as the same cur who’d been with her at the opera. Orford. What else did they share while her addle-pated husband obviously sated his needs elsewhere?

“She’s lovely,” remarked Basil to Pen. “Who is she?”

Selwyn followed their gaze. “That’s Traherne’s daughter.”

“I beg your pardon?” gasped Pen.

“The Duke of Traherne’s daughter,” Selwyn said. “The one who inherits after her father’s passing. She’ll be the rarest of creatures, a duchess in her own right.”

“That’s Mirabella Wentworth?” Basil’s mouth gaped like a fish on a hook. “How can you be certain?”

“I met her at luncheon this afternoon. She’s a particular friend of my betrothed. They attended Miss Langdon’s School for Young Ladies together.” He glanced over at the woman with little real interest. “It’s no wonder you don’t recognize her. Lady Mirabella is known to few people in town. She grew up in the country and never had a season. The rumor is Traherne married her off as a child to settle a debt.”

Basil elbowed Sebastian. “She doesn’t look plain or fat to me.”

Sebastian barely heard him. The world tilted, upsetting all sense of balance and order. A volley of emotions bombarded him. Nothing made sense. And yet it made perfect sense.

He watched his wife through a fog of incredulity.
His wife!
When she stopped to exchange pleasantries with someone, giving a smile that was a bit too saucy to be polite, his every nerve ending swelled with euphoria.

“This,” he uttered after Selwyn left to rejoin his friends, “is most unexpected.”

Pen guffawed, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll say.”

A sense of exultation took root in him. She was his.

She had been all along.

Basil eyed him. “You are acquainted?”

“Yes.” He answered somewhat absently returning his gaze to Mirabella.
His wife.
“Although I did not know it was she.” He watched her male companion take Mirabella’s elbow in a manner too proprietary for his liking. The way she smiled up at Orford, with obvious warmth glazing her eyes, made jealousy course through him.

“She means something to you,” Basil said with dawning awareness. “Does she return your interest?”

His gaze did not leave Mirabella. “I suppose you could say that.”

Basil’s mouth broadened into a smile of genuine delight. “Perhaps your worries all these years will have been groundless.”

A seed of mistrust took root in Sebastian, usurping his sense of surprised elation. Mirabella’s note just this afternoon claimed her return would be delayed. And yet, here she appeared, on the arm of another man. And she’d been in town for at least three days when he first spotted her at the opera. Perhaps even longer. She’d lied to him. Why? To spend a few more nights with her paramour?

“Well, there is no time like the present,” Penrose quipped, raising his glass in salute. “Go introduce yourself and take your bride to bed.”

Lust overtook Sebastian as that particular truth washed over him; the manly part of him stirred with impatience. He could have her in his bed this very night and take her as many times as he cared to. He would be well within his rights. But the haze of lust gave way to burgeoning anger. Reality tempered his baser instincts, forcing the return of his senses. His wife could not be trusted. She’d lied to him about her return. He wondered what other things she would be deceitful about. Who was she really? What were her intentions toward him? He had to find out.

Then, and only then, would he introduce himself and take his wife to bed, at last claiming what had been rightfully his all along.

Chapter Five

Bella laughed with delight when the sky exploded in a blaze of light and color.

“How fantastic!” Her face remained skyward, the wind breezing through her hair as Orford twirled her around the dance floor.

He smiled down at her. “Vauxhall’s fireworks pale in comparison to the loveliness I behold in my very arms.”

She laughed again, feeling free, reveling in the movement, the cool air and the spectacular show above them. “I wish this evening would never end.” She felt a sudden pang. “That tomorrow would never come.”

“You will have to go to him eventually.”

“I’ll thank you not to remind me of my duty just yet. I have a few more days of freedom before I must endure him.”

When the music came to an end, Orford tucked her arm into his elbow. “Until then, I shall have you all to myself.” He escorted her from the dance floor. “Perhaps our final time together.”

Faint panic fluttered in her chest. “Nonsense, you are my cousin. We shall continue to see one another.”

“Not if he sees how much I care for you. He could command me away from you.”

“He would never do that.” But she knew he could and very well might.

“Of course not.” Orford patted her hand. “No doubt I’m worrying over nothing.”

She knew he meant to be reassuring, but instead he had resurrected a nagging fear that her husband would be overbearing. That he would command her life, her friends, would dictate who she could and couldn’t see.

“Let’s rejoin the others. I see them over on the other side of the dance floor,” he said.

She looked across to see their friends. Monty, Tabby, and Josette seemed to have made new acquaintances. Two young bucks hovered around Josette, which came as no surprise. The French woman was lovely and had perfected the art of flirtation. “I want to stand here and enjoy the last of the fireworks. Won’t you be a dear and wave them over?”

“Very well,” Orford said. “I’ll go and signal to them.” He gave her a quick peck on the nose. “I shall return,
ma belle
.”

Smiling after him, Bella wrapped her arms around herself and gazed up at the explosion of light above her, trying to ward off a sense of aloneness.

“It is quite spectacular.”

A shiver ran through her. She knew that voice. It had echoed in her memory for days. She turned toward it. “Stan.”

“You know my name?”

“I heard your friend refer to you as such.”

“I see. However, I do not know yours. It seems you have me at a distinct disadvantage.”

Buoyed by his presence, she smiled at him. Another crackle of noise sounded above them, drawing her attention to the final blast of fireworks lighting up the sky. “How beautiful.”

“My thoughts exactly.” His voice, deep and self-assured, was almost without inflection. With his contemplative gaze fastened on her, he didn’t seem to be referring to the fireworks. “You know my name. May I have the honor of knowing yours?”

His proximity, his overwhelming masculinity, made it difficult for her body to perform the everyday functions of life she normally gave no thought to, things like breathing or blinking. “Mirabella,” she said. “Bella.”

“A lovely name for a lovely lady.” His eyes moved past her and seemed to darken. She followed his gaze to see Orford and her other friends coming toward them. Disappointment surged through her. It was wrong, but she wanted these last moments with Stan before she returned to reality. To Sebastian, her husband.

He offered his arm. “Would you care to walk, Miss—”

She took his solid arm, feeling its strength beneath her fingers. “Just Bella, if you don’t mind. It’s terribly incorrect, but I feel as though we are friends.”

“Indeed.”

He led her away from the edge of dance floor down one of Vauxhall’s many leafy paths. They walked in silence for a few moments. Bella’s body was alive to the sensation of having Stan beside her. What he must think of her to be walking alone with him down this secluded walkway where couples were known to steal more than kisses. “You no doubt think the worst of me, allowing you to escort me alone here.”

He gazed at her, an inscrutable expression on his face. “I realize quite suddenly that I could never think ill of you.”

Bella exhaled. She believed him. They walked along the path in an easy silence.

“Does your husband not mind?”

Her muscles tensed at the mention of Sebastian. Did he mind? Apparently not. He had never come for her, hadn’t even bothered to consummate the marriage once she’d come of age.

She realized Stan was looking at her, awaiting a response. “I cannot say.” She felt tears welling in her throat. “He…he does not concern himself with my activities.” He frowned but said nothing to fill the silence. To her horror, Bella felt dampness on her cheeks. She brushed it away with her hand.

Halting, Stan faced her. His warm, large hand clasped hers as it rested on his arm. “You are distressed.”

She forced a laugh, ignoring the way her heart ached with more unshed tears. “How silly of me. It is the way of an arranged
ton
marriage, I suppose.”

His eyebrows drew together. “I am sorry for your distress. Truly.”

She regarded him with astonishment. “It is not your fault. You have been nothing but kind.”

He shook his head. “I thought it was so, but I’ve been so very wrong.”

“No, you mustn’t think such a thing.” She reached for his hand with both of hers. His large hands instantly enveloped hers, wrapping around her smaller fingers, encasing them in warmth. Something splashed down on their joined hands. To Bella’s mortification, it was more tears. She never cried. She sank onto a bench. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

He sat next to her, his intense gaze riveted on her face. “Has it been so very terrible?”

“Bella?” Orford’s voice sounded from the walkway. “I think I saw her come this way.” Josette and Tabby’s chattering voices murmured in response.

“Maybe she is down there.” Monty’s voice.

Bella rose. “I must go.”

He stood with her. “Wait.” The words were urgent. “There is something I must tell you.”

“Bella!” Josette called.

“My friends are looking for me. I cannot stay here with you.”

“Will you meet me on the morrow?” he asked, his expression intent.

She shook her head, well aware she must not see him again. “No, I cannot. It would not be right.”

“Bella?” Orford’s voice again.

“
Mon dieu
, I think I hear her over there,” Josette’s voice answered.