Satisfying The Duke & Her Debts (Regency Romance: Strong Women Find True Love Book 1)
Page 16
"A courteous accord? That's what we call blackmailing now?" Ellery retorted, his voice full of airy sarcasm and smug satisfaction. Isobel could feel it too.
"These sorts of accusations only hurt yourself, Ellery," Lady Maryweather spoke through angrily gritted teeth, her eyes full of spite.
"But that's what it's called, is it not - blackmail? Please, correct me if my brain, so mired with worry and the want of lovely Isobel, has made a grave trespass in calling it as its appropriately termed," Ellery crowed. Lady Maryweather's cheeks burned brighter the more frustrated and irate she grew.
"Perhaps we need to come to a new agreement, Lord Brighton," she rasped in revilement.
"Blackmail, Lady Maryweather - and from the tales I've heard, I'm not your only victim, am I?" Lady Maryweather's rage broke with that statement into a fractured image of worried confusion; Ellery smiled. "I've said this far too many times in the last day, love, but - Lady Emily Maryweather, you certainly didn't think yourself to be the only noble in all of northern England to associate herself with coy saboteurs and 'little birds', did you?" Lady Maryweather took a step back, hand to her chest, as if ready to faint.
"I... I don't quite underst... and," she stammered.
"I'm certain you do. The difference, though, m'lady," Ellery stated authoritatively, sauntering along the top of the staircase as he spoke; Isobel savored every second, her expression growing full of warmth - and so full of pride, at seeing him assert himself to her. He truly had forced off his chains. "...the difference, is that my friend is not a 'little bird'. No, my friend is far from a dove. My friend is a vicious bird of prey, its talons sharpened, its eyes quick, its manner merciless," he said. Isobel watched the doorway - and she saw the gleam in his eyes. Just as Lord Brighton described. He smiled a sick smile - a smile that had so long kept her in wary suspense and writhing fear. It was then, when he grinned up at Lord Brighton with those eyes, that she realized the identity of Lord Brighton's spy. Perhaps the most loyal - and the person she had least expected it to be.
Arthur Ellsworth's ghastly gaze fell then upon Isobel, whose face brimmed with stunned surprise. He tipped his hat to her, giving her his smile. She had never trusted him... but perhaps that's precisely why he made the most effective spy, in all Lady Maryweather's entourage.
"Who—what?" Lady Maryweather gasped; she stumbled backwards, revelations overwhelming her.
"If I revealed too much, that'd spoil our game, wouldn't it, Emily?" Ellery announced proudly. "Now, my hawk has far more evidence of your wrongdoings than simple blackmail - no, that'd be silly, even expected, from a woman like yourself. But some crimes my hawk has seen your hand sullied with..." Lord Brighton clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. "Perhaps the Duke of Thrushmore wasn't as wicked a man, if we dared compare him to you, love. Though, you're in luck - it seems likely he'll be needing a friend to wallow in ruin with."
"You... you snake," Lady Maryweather managed. She took hobbling steps towards the stairwell, full of rage, before tripping on her long and flowing dress, falling to her knees with a yelp. Quivering, fearful and broken, she could take little more. "I'll ruin b-both of you," she vowed weakly, before the excitement claimed her and she fell faint with a sigh at the foot of the stairs.
Isobel rushed to her lover's side, grasping at his waist; she looked down on the fallen lady with pride. Just like the Duke of Thrushmore, Lady Maryweather had been a lie. And as Lord Brighton held her tight and kissed her, she felt a satisfying warmth fill her from head to toe.
Gentlemen, ladies, deception and ruination... none of it mattered. For no amount of lies or financial ruin could bankrupt the love they shared.
"Now," Ellery whispered against her lips. "We've a wedding to plan, don't we?"
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