Tempting Bella (Entangled Scandalous) (7 page)

“One final time,” he said. “I have something of utmost importance to share with you. I would never dishonor my wife. I swear it.”

“The lending library,” she heard herself say. “Eleven o’clock.”

From the lending library, he took her to a park she had never visited before—a small but well-kept space with flowering bushes forming cheerful ribbons of color along the walking paths. Shades of yellow, white, and lilac streamed far ahead of them before disappearing into a copse of trees.

“Oh, it is lovely.” Closing her eyes, she breathed in the mingled scents of lilacs and lilies.

Stan smiled, a lone dimple creasing high on his right cheek. “I hoped it would be to your liking. Fernwood Park is renowned for the beauty of its landscape.”

They strolled up a small hill, following a well-worn path. He walked beside her, his posture perfect, hands clasped behind his back. Bella slid a quick glance at him underneath her lashes, her heart quickening at the way his fawn-colored breeches skimmed over those substantial legs. He wore a chocolate-brown tailcoat and the sun gleamed off his tasseled Hessians.

“In the Spanish countryside, they have the most beautiful flowers,” she said, forcing her attention away from the effect Stan’s nearness had on her. “Many are wildflowers, of course, but I think that is when things are at their most beautiful, wild and untamed.”

Stan stopped to pluck a white bloom and handed it to her, their fingers brushing. The hot slide of his skin against hers sent warmth tingling low in her belly. Astonished by the strange sensation, she brought the bloom to her nose, inhaling its sweet scent, masking her bewilderment at how his slightest touch could affect every part of her. Even deeply private bits she hadn’t really been aware of until now.

“Have you traveled widely?” he asked.

“Yes,” she managed to answer. “Spain, Belgium, and France, now that the war has ended.”

“Then you enjoy traveling.” He took the flower and tucked it behind her ear. His fingers brushed against the tender curve of skin, awakening the sensitive spot there, the flower’s soft petals brushed a sensual sweep against her skin.

If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was flirting with her. He
did
seem freer with her today than he had in the past. She shook the thought away. Although she didn’t know the gentleman well, he did project an innate decency that left her unable to fathom him acting in an inappropriate manner. “I was at loose ends. I had nowhere else to go.”

His dark brows knit together. “Surely you’ve always known you have a home with your husband.”

Closing her eyes, she tilted her face upward, letting the sun’s warmth caress her skin. The last thing she wanted to talk about was
him
. She spread her arms out to her sides soaking in the comfort of the midday rays. She twirled, savoring the feeling. “In Spain, we would picnic often in the country when the weather allowed. I relished running among the wildflowers, it made me feel so free.”

“Do you crave freedom, Bella?”

Her chest constricted at the tender expression on his face. She stopped twirling and looked off, her gaze following the cascading color of flowers running down the hill. “Perhaps I do.” Then someone like Stan could openly court her. “I’ll never have a season. No gentleman with honorable intentions will ever pay me his addresses.”

“You would have been the season’s incomparable.”

She smiled at the thought. “Do you think so?”

“Undoubtedly. The reigning beauty of the
ton
with all of the young bloods vying for your heart.”

“And who would win me? The most handsome among them or the one with the highest title?”

“The one who loved you with all of his being.” A fierce note edged his soft voice. “Who would treasure you as you deserve.”

A wistful feeling tugged at her. “And, by now, there’d be a brood of children filling our home.”

“Beautiful little girls with their mother’s fire.”

She pictured little girls with soft auburn curls. Only in her mind’s fantasy, her sons had bronze skin and dark curls. And the greenest eyes. “Ten children.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “As many as that?”

“For a start. I’ve always wanted lots of children.” Her face warmed with embarrassment and yet it seemed right to do so with him. “I never had a real family. It was just me and the du…my father. He was never in residence. So I always dreamed of making my own tribe.”

“A dozen children is it, then,” he said softly.

“And I shall grow so very fat from bearing all of those babies.”

He gazed at her, the sun shining in his emerald eyes, infusing them with golden accents. “And he will look at the mother of his children and still see the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes upon.”

“Ah.” Her heart moved a little faster at the seriousness of his expression. “His love will be as blind as that?”

“Undoubtedly. And he’ll thank the Fates for having blessed an undeserving wretch like him with such an exquisite gift.”

Her chest stretched with feeling. “It is a lovely dream.”

“One day you shall have it.”

“Perhaps, the children part and certainly a husband.” But hardly adoring. She forced the melancholy away. “Tell me about your wife. I’m curious to know what sort of woman would capture your attentions.”

An admiring warmth glazed his eyes. “In truth, I am just beginning to know her.”

“Are you newly married?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

And yet he was here, keeping company with her. “Was it a love match?”

“Our fathers arranged the union. We didn’t meet until shortly before our nuptials. I admit to being angry and resentful at first.” His expression turned tender. “But I’m coming to seeing the rightness of their decision.”

Bella’s heart did a clumsy flop at the obvious affection in his voice when he spoke of his wife. “You have come to care for her.”

His lips curved upward, that lone dimple on his cheek deepening. “Yes, indeed. More so each day. I’m coming to realize how remarkable she truly is.”

Jealousy slashed a jagged path inside her stomach. She’d misinterpreted his feelings. He obviously cared for his wife. “She is most fortunate.”

His smile took a cynical curve. “I am not certain she would agree. And what of your husband?”

She shrugged and turned away to continue walking along the path. “Honestly, I don’t know him. We were married when I was just a child. I had no hand in it. I barely knew what was happening at the time.”

“Do you resent it?” Urgency edged his voice. “Has he restricted your freedom?”

The helpless anger she always felt at her husband’s abandonment reared within her. “No, he has given me freedom quite by accident I think, through his neglect.”

“Neglect?”

“I doubt he cares. Even for my innocence. He would not have sent me away and kept me away for so long if he did.” She forced a harsh laugh. “He didn’t even bother to send a suitable chaperone to ensure my decorum. I am a complication that he must endure to have what he truly wants.”

Stan’s entire body stiffened, a disturbing energy radiated off him. “And what is that, do you think?”

His reaction warmed her. How kind of him to be angry on her behalf. “My dowry, the kind of influence and consequence the nephew of a marquess could never have dreamed of.”

The lines in his face deepened into a grave frown. “Perhaps once the two of you are acquainted, you will develop a better understanding of his true nature.”

“You are a good and kind man.” A feeling of tenderness welled up in her. “You could never understand someone such as my husband. Sebastian has made his true nature known simply by his absence. I haven’t seen him since our wedding day.”

The skin over his angular jaw stretched taut. “It is possible you have misjudged his intentions.”

“Your generosity of spirit toward my husband is truly that of a fine gentleman.”

He halted and planted his hands on his hips. “This has gone on long enough.” He exhaled in a slow deliberate motion, as though he needed to draw strength. “Bella, there is something I must tell you.”

Nerves twisted in her chest at his somber expression. Suddenly, she felt wary. She didn’t want to know what he had to say. “Enough serious talk.” Anxious to change the subject, she eyed the picnic basket in his hand and forced gaiety into her voice. “What have you got there? I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

“I must tell you the truth…about my wife. About who I am.”

“No.” She shook her head forcefully. No truths mattered. After today, she would return to her husband. She wouldn’t see Stan again. She didn’t need to know anything about him. “Just for today, let us enjoy this afternoon. Reality will intrude eventually, but not just yet. Let us just enjoy a meal among the flowers and sunshine.”

His tense expression softened. Following her lead, he said, “I believe my cook has prepared cold chicken, cheese, bread, and some tarts for dessert.”

They found a spot to set up their picnic. Stan laid out a blanket and knelt to pull food out of the basket, organizing the items in a neat arrangement.

She watched, amused. “You certainly are very exacting with your placement of things. A picnic is not usually so orderly.”

Appearing surprised by her observation, he looked toward the precise composition of the foodstuffs he’d just organized. “I do dislike disorder. I always have.” He gestured toward the food. “Your feast awaits.”

Biting her lower lip, she gave an impish smile. “I am in the mood to be positively wicked, decadent even.”

Stan stilled, except for a lone twitch in the strong curve of his jaw. “Indeed? What exactly do you have in mind?”

She reached for a tart, biting into it with relish. “I think I will go straight for dessert. Can you think of anything more decadent?”

…

The next morning Sebastian relaxed as the hack driver turned in the direction of the lending library. For the first time in his recollection, he felt hopeful, even joyous. He was also as randy as a young buck. His body on edge, anticipating the moment he would find relief inside his wife’s soft and welcoming flesh. Perhaps even by this evening.

Mirabella had been a revelation these last few days. It was more than her obvious beauty that drew him. His wife was unlike any woman of his acquaintance. She literally sparkled, infusing any room she entered with her glowing presence. And she was exceedingly bright, having soaked up a great deal of knowledge and experience from her travels.

During their picnic, talk had turned to her adventures on the continent. She’d proved an excellent conversationalist, witty and engaging, with an occasional hint of naughtiness in recounting her perceptions of her experiences. Bella talked of the museums she’d visited and her impressions of the different countries and people she’d met. He’d been so caught up in their conversation that he’d lost track of time.

She should have had the truth from him by now. He owed her that. Even though she’d stopped him, he’d had an obligation to press forward and reveal everything. Especially now that he knew his attempt to give her freedom had been perceived as abandonment and indifference. She thought him greedy and interested only in her title and wealth.

He would disavow her of that notion today by telling her the glorious truth. He pictured Bella’s face lighting up with happiness and relief. Perhaps she would throw herself into his arms. Maybe she’d accompany him back to his home—their home—on Park Street, where they would finally make use of his wife’s adjoining bedchamber.

The moment the hackney pulled up to the lending library, gladness filled his heart to see her standing near the entrance. She was a vision in a straw bonnet with ribbons the color of sunshine and a matching spencer that caressed her curves. Underneath, Mirabella wore a simple cream dress. He smiled when she caught his eye, but her lips flattened and she looked away.

It had been difficult persuading his reluctant wife to see him again, but he’d promised her it would be their last secret meeting. He meant to keep that vow. After today he planned to parade his lovely wife all over town on his arm. Orford would no longer be needed.

Alighting, he walked toward her. She darted a look down the street behind him, giving every appearance of a trapped animal poised to make a run for safety. Perhaps meeting another man made her feel disloyal to her husband. He smiled to himself, thinking of again of how pleased Mirabella would be to learn the truth.

“Good day,” he called out to her.

“This is a mistake.” She held up a hand as though to stop him, or perhaps warning him to keep his distance. “I just came to tell you I cannot accompany you.”

His heart swelled with compassion for her. “I must talk with you. Please, after today you will understand.” He took her arm. “Come now, I know a quiet place where we can talk.”

She avoided his gaze. “No, my husband expects me today. I must go.”

He halted and his goodwill evaporated. Another lie. She had no plans to meet her husband. Not that she knew of. He stepped much closer to her than was proper. “Do you, indeed?”

“What are you doing?” She backed away, looking around to make sure no one had noticed them. He followed when she entered the lending library and hurried by the circular counter in the center of the shop. She passed a wall of books before finally turning into a narrow corridor that was empty of people.