The Rake's Unveiling of Lady Belle (10 page)

Once the lady had left, Belle turned to a worried-looking Tippen. ‘Don't look like that. The countess is enough to make a saint lose patience and I'm no saint. Who else is due today?'

‘Only Lady Osborne, and she's just cancelled. Her father-in-law passed, and she's on her way to Cambleford. So you have no clients for the rest of the day. Which, considering your lack of patience, is no bad thing. Why don't you go for a long walk or something? Blow the megrims away.'

‘I'm waiting to hear about Clarissa.'

There was a clatter of hooves, the sound of a carriage stopping, then a tattoo was hammered out on the main front door. Tippen went to the window, which overlooked the road, and craned her neck. ‘Well maybe you will. I swear that's Lord Phillip's carriage.'

‘Whoever is trying to knock my door down sounds impatient enough for it to be him,' Belinda remarked. ‘Will you let him in, please? Whilst we still have a door. It would be somewhat draughty without. To say nothing of embarrassing to any young lady in a state of undress if some undesirable wandered in. Mary has gone to the haberdasher for that roll of dark green velveteen ribbon I need.'

‘If I don't answer the door, you'll need it to tie the door in place,' Tippen said as she left the room at a run.

The banging had now taken on a staccato rhythm. Belinda moved to the mirror, smoothed her curls down, pinched her cheeks to bring some colour into them and smoothed her lemon and green striped gown into place. She was as ready as she ever would be to meet and greet Phillip.

He strode in and bowed. Belinda curtsied and gasped as Phillip ignored a grinning Tippen and hauled Belinda to her feet. ‘At last.' He bent his head and kissed her so hard and deep, she had to cling on to him for balance, and wondered if she would ever get over that awful lump in her stomach. The one engraved with ‘if only' and ‘what if?'.

‘My lord.' Belinda moved three steps backwards the minute he put her down. ‘Have you any information?' She waved to the decanter. ‘Help yourself.'

‘Tea,' Phillip said firmly. ‘Please. And food, any food. My meeting with my father put me off my breakfast.'

That sounded ominous. Clarissa was emphatic that nothing, but nothing put Phillip off his food.

‘I'll get something, shall I?' Tippen stood in the doorway and winked at Belinda. ‘Mrs Lovett made extra scones today in case you called. She said we can't have you wasting away. It would be bad for business.' She dashed out.

‘What is it with you, that my staff feel it is their duty to feed you? And how did you win Tippen over?' Belinda asked as she sat behind her desk and watched Phillip swing a ladder-back chair round and sit on it backwards.

He rested his arms over the top. ‘I'm loveable?'

‘Aren't rakes supposed to be?'

‘Of course, but not all succeed. Now do you want to know what I've discovered or shall we spend a pleasant half hour bandying words? I'm happy either way.' He raised one eyebrow, and laughed. ‘Come on, ma belle, leave the sulks and be nice to me.'

‘How nice?' Belinda asked suspiciously. ‘Not marrying nice.'

He sighed very ostentatiously. ‘Wait until I ask.'

‘I'm saving you the bother,' Belinda said. ‘How nice?'

‘A drive out to Kyle. One of my properties. It's only an hour or so, plenty of time to be back before dark. And I do need to talk to you,' he added as Tippen came back in with his provisions. ‘Not just about my sister either.'

Belinda made her mind up. ‘You eat your sandwiches and scones; I'll get ready.' She left the room at a rapid pace, eager to get out into the countryside. Plus, she admitted to herself, it would be good to see his bolthole. The house where according to Clarissa he disappeared whenever possible. Without, his sister had added with a laugh, any woman on his arm.

She stripped and redressed in record time, satisfied the cherry and cream gown and pelisse suited her perfectly, and made her way back into her office just as Phillip swallowed the last sandwich.

‘Oh.' He looked from the empty plate to her. ‘Should I have saved you any?'

She laughed and shook her head. ‘No, I did eat breakfast.'

* * *

‘So, did you see Clarissa and find out what is wrong?' Belinda hardly waited until they were seated opposite each other in the carriage and it began to move before she asked the question.

Phillip put one ankle-high boot onto the knee of his other leg. The stance stretched his pantaloons over his muscled thighs and outlined his pego. Belinda wasn't sure where to look. She chose his face. He smiled and inclined his head. ‘I apologise for my body. My state of readiness shows how you make me hard and wanting.'

Belinda gasped and swallowed heavily. ‘You shouldn't say such things.'
They make my body tighten, my skin tingle, my quim damp and my mind wonder, what if.

‘Why not? It's true.' He didn't sound unduly worried about it. ‘Damned uncomfortable it is as well.'

‘Get a mistress. I could do with a nice bolt of midnight shot silk, which I've earmarked.' Belinda opened her eyes wide. ‘When my capital increases.'

‘Tomorrow at three,' Phillip said straight away.

‘I'll make room.' Her heart sank. So he did have a lady around. She was right not to believe he'd turned over a new leaf. ‘A kiss of death?'

‘No, a kiss of anticipation. Now enough. This isn't about me, or us. I didn't see Clarissa this morning. Our father told me she was indisposed.'

‘Whisky?'

‘Matrimony.'

‘Pardon?' Belinda's heart sunk. ‘Not because I said no, surely? That wouldn't make sense.'

‘Not at all. Because she wasn't allowed to say no. Evidently she was found by none other than Lady Oakes in a compromising position with Lord Theodore Bennett. He was—and I can only quote my papa as his is the only version of events I have heard, for Ben is not around to ask—at her feet, touching her flounces. Therefore, it was come to you, or hunt down and thrash Ben. I thought Clarissa would prefer the former rather the latter, whatever happens.'

‘So would I.' Belinda was horrified. Poor Clarissa. That would have been the last straw. ‘What good would attacking Lord Bennett do?'

‘Make me feel better for upsetting my sister?' Phillip asked her in a dry tone.

‘Rubbish. You men just like a good mill.'

If all Phillip said was true it was no wonder Clarissa had emptied Belinda's whisky bottle. Clarissa had always been adamant she had no thoughts or inclinations to ever marry. Men, she opined, said one thing, meant another and often did something totally different. Not for her.

Up until recently Belinda would have agreed with her although…
No not for me.
Why didn't that thought make her happier?

‘That's true,' Phillip said. ‘But in this case? He has upset my sister—of that I have no doubt—but has delighted my father, who has often said how worried he was that Clarissa had no inclination to take a husband to look after her. On top of that, he annoyed me when due to him I missed a perfectly good breakfast and more than one chance to woo you.'

Belinda ignored his last remark and thought over everything else Phillip had divulged. ‘You know, something doesn't ring true. If you had said Ferdy Pendragon had her in a compromising position, I could have believed it. But then Clarissa would have given him short shrift and boxed his ears. Lord Bennett is too much of a gentleman to do such a dastardly thing.'

‘You would have thought so. I itch to call him to account, but for Clarissa's sake I won't. I was at Lupton's playing cards so I missed it all, but evidently within the hour their engagement was announced. Papa is pleased as punch, and Clarissa punch-drunk. Or should that be whisky-sodden?'

He sat back and studied Belinda from head to toe. His gaze lingered on her bosom and her skin grew hot. Eventually she could stand his intense scrutiny no longer. ‘Do I have a smut on my dress? A rip, a crease? Are my buttons undone and my breasts on show?'

Phillip didn't look one whit abashed. ‘No smut and sadly not enough. I was just admiring what one day will be…' He stopped speaking and for one brief second did seem abashed.

‘One day will be?' Belinda prompted him. Good grief, was she a glutton for punishment?

‘Hopefully admired in full by me. And not just your bosom.'

The pictures his words conjured up gave Belinda goosebumps. How did she answer such an outrageous and, yes she admitted it, arousing statement? The glint in his eyes told her he knew exactly how he made her feel. She swallowed and said the first thing that came into her head.

‘Are we there yet?'

Chapter Five

‘Oh well diverted, my dear.' Phillip dipped his head in acknowledgement of her cleverness. It was cruel to tease her so, but she gave as good as she got and he enjoyed their verbal sparring. Never before had he gained so much pleasure from a lady. Well, he tempered, gratification of a nonsexual kind.

‘Yes we are nearly there,' he said and inclined his head slightly. ‘And have no fear, I will follow your lead for now, and talk of other things. One of which is I suspect that apart from her hangover, Clarissa is going to need your help in more ways than just making the dress.' Sadly, he had even more disturbing news, but for now he'd keep that to himself. It wouldn't do to upset Belle without knowing what measures he could take to help. ‘You do know she'll want you there to support her.'

‘What?' Belle looked at him as if he had demanded she emulate Lady Godiva. ‘Where? How? What? Who?'

‘Clarissa. Before and during her wedding. She will need you to support her, advise her on her trousseau, make sure her gown is perfect, that sort of thing.' Although Phillip was somewhat vague about all the intricacies needed to get a bride through the betrothal and wedding day, he elaborated on his statement. ‘A right-hand person.' What had she expected him to say? ‘It will be a big day in the ton's calendar. She will need to be as picture-perfect as possible. You surely would be the one to help?'

Belle shook her head. Her face was white. ‘Not at all. That will be the job of the bridesmaid. Not me.'

He frowned. ‘Surely you'd help her? Do everything she needs and wants?'

‘I will do everything she asks of me,' Belle said slowly. To his mind she was choosing her words with care. ‘And she knows that. Oh how pretty.' She turned away from him and stared out of the window. ‘Is the lake part of your property?'

Phillip sighed. One day he intended to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding the lady sat opposite him, in alleged raptures of delight.

‘Perfect for drowning reluctant wives to be,' he said in a dry tone. ‘The duckweed would keep them captive whilst I made a good getaway and set up a perfect alibi.'

‘Oh yes, it would work superbly. How clever.' Belle turned back to him and smiled. ‘You must give me fair warning, so if I disappear I can be sure the finger is pointed at you, before you reach your own sticky end. A crumbling cliff maybe? Or a highwayman never to be found, once your bloody and broken body is discovered with a knife through the heart. And Clarissa mourning you, and wondering who is the culprit. I would of course have a number of cryptic clues hidden in strategic places so anyone with half a mind could follow them and apprehend you. Or I should say try to, just as you breath your last.'

He laughed out loud. ‘Do we really wish such a fate on each other? How about a nice long and faithful happy ever after?'

Belle sniggered. ‘If that is today's proposal, thank you and no. If it is a generalisation, why yes, that would be preferable to anything else.'

‘You have a hard heart, ma belle.'

She spoke so softly he had to move closer to hear her. ‘I had no option.'

At least she loved his house. It was easy to see her admiration was sincere. After a long lunch, set on a rustic table under the rose bower at the edge of the terrace that stretched on the south side of the house, they walked arm in arm across the lawn towards the lake.

‘It's not that big an estate,' Phillip said later as they sat on the grass under a willow tree. Bees hummed and fish lazily showed their heads above the duckweed and water lilies to gulp the insects and flies that skimmed the surface of the flat water. One jumped and the plop as it re-entered the pond sounded loud in the tranquil afternoon.

Belle hid a yawn behind her hand. ‘It's perfect.'

‘So perfect you're falling asleep?' He couldn't resist teasing her.

‘It's a soporific sort of day,' Belle retorted, not at all embarrassed. ‘Where all the cares of the word have disappeared and you can just sink into its loveliness.'

Phillip shrugged out of his jacket, rolled it up and put it under Belle's head for a pillow. She grinned and stretched out next to him, her legs crossed at the ankles. He wished the skirt hem would creep upwards, just a little.

It didn't.

‘As I said. Perfection. Wake me up if I fall asleep.' Belle yawned and laughed. ‘Oh dear, it is not the company, I promise you. Just lack of sleep. So, please wake me up.'

‘With a kiss?'

‘Not necessarily. A gentle pat on the cheek would suffice.'

‘Not nearly as satisfying though.'

Belle waggled her finger at him. ‘Talk about the estate, my lord.'

Phillip caught hold of the digit and nibbled the end. Her look of astonishment made him laugh and he patted her cheek. ‘Your wish as ever is my command.'

‘You are full of hot air, if it was… Ah well no matter, I'm all ears.'

He chose not to ask her to finish her sentence. Not now. The fragile peace and contentment between them was too important to sully.

‘The house, the pond and the land between them, plus the home farm and its acreage, is tiny compared to some.' He plucked a fern leaf from a nearby clump that waved softly in the breeze, and he used it to tickle Belle's nose. She swatted his hand away.