“Mr. Caine, I am offended by what you are suggesting.”
“And what am I suggesting, Lady Strauss?”
“That my husband has been alive this whole time, and I had to degrade myself by offering my body to men so I could survive?” She wanted to reach across the room and slap the smug look off his face. “How dare you suggest that I think so little of myself that I would commit adultery, and for what reason? To give the funds to my supposedly dead husband?”
Jonathan put his hand on her knee. “Darling, I’m sure that’s not what they are suggesting. Is it, gentlemen?”
Both men stammered out noes, and of course nots before they reached for their teacups. Belinda wondered what would happen when—if—they found out the truth. She leaned into Jonathan, feeling as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
“One of the morgue workers admits to taking a bribe from your husband to declare that an unclaimed body found in the Thames was actually Lord Strauss,” Caine said. “Do you know anything about that?”
“No,” she said.
“Do you know where your sister is?” he asked.
That question shocked her. If they were asking about Gloria they knew something, surely. She decided to stick as close to the truth as possible.
“The last I heard she was living in Paris,” Belinda said. “She had a falling out with our parents, as did I, and she moved to Paris. She and I were not close, and we have not kept up, so I have no idea where she is.”
“Your father says the same thing,” Caine said.
Belinda didn’t have to feign her shock. “You’ve spoken to my father? I haven’t seen him since Strauss’ funeral.”
“He says the same thing,” Caine said. “He is here in town, staying at the Bell and Whistle.”
“Where is that?” Belinda asked. She looked toward Jonathan, who shrugged.
“It’s a hotel and public house,” Caine said. “Near Soho.”
Never in her life would she think her father would stay at such a place. Unless he was trying to hide, not only from her but, possibly, from Strauss?
“I’m sure you’re going to run and see him now,” Caine said.
“Why would I?” She picked up her teacup and took a dainty sip. “Like I said I haven’t seen him in ten years. I don’t care to see him now and I don’t know why he’s in London. I have no idea how many times he’s been here in the last ten years. Do I need to say it any other way?”
“Not in the least,” Gregory said. He finished his tea and, like a good hostess, Belinda refilled his cup.
“We will get to the bottom of this,” Gregory said. “Things will go easier for you if you admit now that you helped Strauss fake his death to escape debts.”
“But it’s not the truth,” she said. You’d want to look at my father for that, she wanted to say.
“Your father says the same thing,” Caine said.
“And I suppose he threw blame on me,” she responded.
“No, he said the same thing that you did, that you had a falling out, and he knew nothing about Strauss faking his death. He truly thinks he’s dead. But someone, I think, is lying. Which one of you is it, that is the question?”
Caine took a drink after his long speech. “We expect you to let us know immediately if you hear from your former husband.
“You have my word,” Belinda said.
“Then we will take our leave,” Caine said. “And expect you to keep your word.”
When they were gone, Belinda collapsed against the back of the couch. “What do we do now?” she asked.
“We invite your father for afternoon tea,” Barton said. “And then we go upstairs so you can suck my cock.”
“Such a juxtaposition of events,” Belinda said. “And you talked about them so close together.”
“Yes, but I don’t want your father to know about the second one, just the first. Go pen him a note, and then I’ll meet you upstairs.”
Belinda wrote as fast as she could, and when she got to the bedroom she wasn’t surprised to find Barton naked and laying on the bed. His cock was already erect.
“You’re in a hurry,” she said. “I was going to have Merry help me to undress. You should cover yourself up.”
Barton made as if to stand up and she put out her hand and told him to stop. “I can’t afford to lose another dress. You are too loose with the ripping off of clothing.”
“It’s such a fun thing to do,” he said. “When we’re married we need to keep clothes that are easily disposable so I can play rip and tear.”
He laughed, and she couldn’t help but smile. “I will get undressed as quickly as possible.” She pointed to the room next door. “You can wait in there.”
Merry appeared as soon as she was called, and soon Belinda was as naked as Barton. When she was gone, Belinda called Barton back into the room. He had his hand on his cock and a smile on his face.
“We’d better get to it or things might deflate faster than we want,” he said.
“Would you like me to show you my trick?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.
“I’m always up for a good trick,” he said. “What exactly is it?”
She looked at his cock, twisting her head from side to side as if she were judging it.
“Do you find it lacking?” he asked.
“No, it’s perfect.” She licked her lips, and was happy to see the way his eyes widened at her praise. “It’s the perfect size for me to take down my throat.”
“Down your… excuse me?”
“I can swallow your cock,” she said. “It won’t stay there long, but I do believe you will find it very pleasurable. I’ve never had a complaint about it before.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wondered if they had been the right thing to say. Was it proper to talk about former lovers with the man you would marry? It’s not like he didn’t know she wasn’t a virgin.
And, while she was worrying about it he hadn’t said a word. He went back to the bed and took up the position he’d been in before. If it was possible, his cock seemed even harder, and longer, than it had just moments ago.
“There is a specific position you have to be in for this,” she said. “I know it sounds a little, well, shall we say not sexy, but it’s the best position for taking you all the way in.”
He groaned at her words, and then said, “Okay.”
Belinda sashayed toward the bed. When she was there she leaned over and ran her tongue up and down his length. “Tastes so good,” she said, right before she licked up and down again, and then swallowed the head and sucked him ever so gently.
His groans made her suck a little harder. She loved the taste of him, the feel of his hardness in her mouth. When he grasped handfuls of her hair and yanked, with enough pressure to make her release his cock and gasp, she said, “Stand up.” Her voice was gravely with need, and when he did as she asked, she lay down on the bed so that her head was off the side.
“Feed me your prick,” she said. “Do it slowly and gently, and whatever you do, if I push on your thighs, take it out of my mouth.”
“As you wish,” he said.
“I can take it deeply, but you have to move slowly.”
“As you wish,” he repeated.
Belinda opened her mouth and took him inside her, using her tongue to lick as he slowly moved back and forth. She could tell by the tightness of sac that he was close to climax. She licked and sucked, and when he read her signals correctly and she felt him in the back of her throat she groaned.
He shot off immediately, and Belinda felt as if she would gag. She patted his leg and he pulled away, which made quite a mess to her, but it was something she loved seeing, and feeling.
She was recovering from having him so deep inside her when he leaned over, parted the lips of her quim, and sucked her clit into his mouth. She came hard as he sucked and nibbled, and when he lay down next to her, so that they were head to toe, they both laughed.
“That’s a new one fo
r me,” he said. “I hope you’ll be willing to do it again.”
“And again, and again, and again,” she said.
“Good to know.”
An hour later, while they were lying in bed, recovering, Merry delivered a note from her father. It had been short and to the point. Tea at four, your house.
“He makes it sound like a party,” she’d said, handing the paper to Jonathan. It was almost time for her father to arrive, and she was very, very nervous. “He didn’t even sign his name, just put his seal on the envelope.”
They were in the study now, and she was more worried about this than she had been about anything in a long time.
Jonathan sat down in a chair. “Something tells me your father has been inundated with bills from our fake Victor.”
“He frightens me,” Belinda said. “I haven’t seen him in ten years.”
“Sit down, Belinda,” Jonathan said. “Would you like a nip of brandy to calm your nerves?”
“No,” she said.
“Then sit and relax. I don’t want your father to see your nerves.”
He was right, of course. She did as he said. Jonathan leaned his head back and closed his eyes, and she wondered how he could be so calm. For herself, she went over different scenarios of speaking with her father, and they all ended badly.
At precisely four o’clock, there was a knock at the door. The butler showed her father in and Belinda was surprised to see how little he had changed in the last ten years.
“Father,” she whispered.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said. “I suppose you’re the man who’s marrying Belinda?”
“I am,” Jonathan said.
“You should know she’s a liar.”
Belinda felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck.
“Is she?” Jonathan said. “I believe she told me the truth when she said it was your idea to have her husband play dead so that you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”
Lord Lucas stiffened and glared at Belinda. “Don’t you dare blame this on me.”
“As I see it, it is your fault. You didn’t want society to know that the man you allowed to marry your daughter was a cheat and a scoundrel. She’s paid the price. Not you.”
“Jonathan.” Belinda bit her lip when Jonathan held up his hand.
“She’s paid the price? She’s been a whore to every man she’s met. What price has she paid?”
“She was forced to fend for herself, after you cut her off. You send money to the scoundrel who wronged your own daughter and give her not a cent, and then question the manner in which she survives? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“I won’t be lectured by you.” Lucas slammed his case on the desk and opened it. “Are you responsible for these?”
He held up papers and shook them at Belinda.
“I am responsible for those,” Jonathan said.
“Then you shall pay them,” her father said, throwing the bills toward Jonathan.
“A small price to pay to get you here and to force the truth into the public eye so Belinda is no longer held prisoner by it.”
“Prisoner? Humph!”
“Yes, father, prisoner. You call me a whore, and society has branded me as such. I did what I had to do to survive. Jonathan is the first person to actually take an interest in me, and my life. Ever.”
Her father started to answer her, then stopped suddenly, his eyes turning to Jonathan.
“You’re the one who set up that embarrassment last evening?”
“Were you there?” Jonathan asked. When he didn’t answer, Jonathan said. “The next newspaper article will tell everyone about how you helped Strauss fake his death, and then set up a divorce through the Parisian courts.”
Lord Lucas paled. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would, and I shall. I had hoped that Strauss would be man enough to come and face the problem with you, but I see that’s not true.”
“I’ll pay you.” Lucas’ voice was soft.
Belinda felt tears sting her eyes. Then, Jonathan laughed.
“No amount of money would stop what I have planned. I want society to know that you and Strauss took advantage of Belinda, that you forced her into being a ‘widow’, that you paid him to remain silent while she was forced to make her own way.”
“Belinda.” Her father sat down heavily on the sofa. “Don’t let him do this to me. I’ll be ruined.”
“Why should she give you any boon, when you didn’t allow her the same courtesy?”
He looked as if he was going to cry, and Belinda thought her heart would break. As much as she hated him, she didn’t want to see him in this position.
“Jonathan,” she whispered.
He pulled her close and kissed her forehead.
“Hush, Lady Brat. Let me handle this.”
“Tell me something, sir, do you feel bad about how you’ve treated your daughter, or do you feel bad because everyone will soon find out?”
When her father didn’t answer, Belinda knew the truth. She straightened her shoulders and sniffled.
“That’s what I thought,” Jonathan said. “My future wife is tender-hearted. She wants me to stop what is going to happen to spare you any embarrassment. But I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. Would you like to know why?”
Lucas nodded.
“One day in the future, you will die, sir. And when you do, Strauss and Gloria will show up on my doorstep, demanding money to remain silent. I won’t have that happen. And I won’t allow Belinda to live under the shadow of a lie any longer. What you should do, sir, is travel to Paris tonight and tell Strauss that the jig is up. Refuse to pay him anymore, and tell him that your secret will soon be common knowledge.”
“Either way, I’m ruined.” Then her father sighed. “Gloria is dead.”
Belinda gasped. “When?”
“A year ago, in childbirth.”
Belinda felt as if she would cry.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Jonathan said. “Making sure that Belinda is cared for is my responsibility now. And I pray that I do a much better job at it than you did.”
“I am sorry, Belinda,” Lucas said, rising. “I blamed you for everything. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.”
He looked old and sad.
“If Gloria is dead, why do you continue to pay Strauss?” Belinda asked.
“Because I don’t want anyone to know,” he said.
“Blackmail,” Jonathan said. “You deserve it.”
Her father closed his eyes, and Jonathan said, “Where is Strauss now? He is living with a woman who resembles Gloria, I’m sure. She’s been seen asking about Belinda.”
“They are at Blackmon’s House,” her father said. “He wants more money.”
“Pay the bills that you tossed at me and I’ll have Strauss jailed,” Jonathan said. “I know just the officer to call.”
Her father got up and it occurred to Belinda they hadn’t even poured tea. She offered him some but he refused.
She waited for her father to apologize, to tell her he felt bad for her. Instead he nodded in Jonathan’s direction and left the room.
“Even now he doesn’t care about me,” she said.
“I care,” Jonathan said. “I’m not going to leave you, Belinda. You are my life.”
She put her lips against his in a gentle kiss.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she said.
“Simply by being yourself.”
Chapter 12
It took hours for word of the divorce to fly. Belinda was set to meet Charlotte at the museum for a quick view of new exhibits the day after she’d met with her father, and learned of her sister’s death. When she stepped inside, she noticed a hush settle over a group of ladies who nodded at her. As she passed them, she heard the words “divorce”, and “pushed husband away”.
She took several deep breaths and fought the urge to run from the building.
Belinda waited by the stairs for Charlotte
, as they had planned. When her friend had entered the building, Belinda was surprised to find Alice with her.
“What’s wrong?” Charlotte whispered into her ear as she hugged her.
“They know. The group over there, they were talking about me when I came in. About divorce.”
Charlotte patted her hands.
“You knew this was going to happen, we all did. Don’t worry, it will be fine.”
“How can it be fine? It will never go away.” She took a deep breath. “No one has found Strauss, and Gloria is dead. She looked at Alice. “Is that what you meant when you said someone would die?”
“I don’t know,” Alice said. “I just heard a woman’s voice saying dead, over and over.”
To Belinda, that meant Gloria had talked with Alice. “I want him to pay for what he did to my sister,” she said. “I want Victor found, and punished.”
“Don’t worry about that now,” Charlotte said. “And don’t worry about what those ladies said. Do you know how they talked about me at first? They accused me of murdering my first husband. I was mortified, but I lived through it, with Dalton’s help. You’ll get through this, with Jonathan’s help.”
Belinda nodded. The words were wonderful to hear, but there was a huge part of her that didn’t believe it.
“My first instinct is to go over there and tell every one of them off,” Belinda said.
“Return to your roots?” Charlotte put her hand on Belinda’s arm. “Not a good idea. You’ve come so far. Don’t let them know that their petty gossip is getting to you. Come on, let’s go upstairs and see the new exhibit. I hear it’s wonderful.”
The three ladies climbed the stairs. Once in the room, Belinda had trouble concentrating on the artifacts. Everywhere she turned she thought that people were staring at her and talking about her. She bit back retorts each time. Twice, Charlotte, put her hand on her arm to steer her away from the ladies, who made sure they were close by so they could listen to every word the three ladies said.
By the time she returned to her house, she was drained of emotion. She sat down on the sofa and started to cry. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been home when she felt Jonathan’s arms wrap around her shoulders.
His Lady Brat (Rakes of Mayfair Book 6) Page 14