by Diana Ballew
“I hate to tell you, Mother, but he did have other mistresses. I heard him talking about it with his friends.”
“It was all for show, my dear.” Anne smiled at him tenderly. “Your father was afraid I would leave him if he took up with another woman. He begged my forgiveness, said he loved me more than life and would forever on be true to me. From that point hence, he told me at least once a day he loved me.
“And,” she said, grinning, “I kept careful accounting of each faux-mistress, just to be sure.”
“Mother, Melanie chased after me because she said it was love, and two weeks later was professing the same for Alex and Whit!” Rafe raked his fingers through his already disheveled hair. “I’ve been with enough women to know it’s only lust, a temporary obsession of the flesh. They have to justify it by claiming some exalted emotion, some absurd notion that your heart can be captured by one and one only for a lifetime. A lifetime!”
“Son, I wish I had another decade to be only with your father. Finding true love is rare. Most of the women you have dallied with have been infatuated with you, that is all. If it was true love and it ended, they’d be drinking themselves into a stupor and sulking the days away.”
“I am not sulking.”
She snorted again.
“I want her more than any other woman I have ever seen, but does that make it love? I can’t be near her and not want to make love to her. I can’t stop thinking about her, her passion, her intelligence, her goodness. I see her with another man and I want to kill the poor sod. I can’t stop picturing the hurt in her lovely eyes, and it’s ripping my gut apart! But, does that make it love?”
“Yes, you bloody dolt.”
Rafe’s mind snapped clear, even though he knew he was still slightly drunk. The almost too brilliant realization struck him. God, what an idiot he had been! What an utter ass! He was deeply, madly in love with Isabella. He couldn’t fight it any longer. He certainly couldn’t live without her by his side. Somehow, she had crawled into his very soul, and he just now realized he never wanted her to leave it.
“Damnation!”
“Finally!” Anne threw up her arms. “I thought you’d never figure it out. I love you, son, but you’re as dense as a stump sometimes.”
“I have to go to her, now.” Rafe stumbled as he stood, tripping over an empty bottle of whiskey. He looked down at himself. “God, I need a bath. Simpson!” he bellowed, striding to the door. “Get your arse to my room! I need to bathe and shave and be ready to leave within the hour! If it takes longer, I take it out of your damned hide!”
Anne laughed at he stormed out of the room, now a man with a mission. He was a stubborn boy, always had been. But now, at least, he was on the right track. She wondered, grinning mischievously, what he would do when he learned the lady had already fled London?
Chapter 20
Life in North Bindlefork was quiet and peaceful, just as she had left it, thank goodness. But being surrounded by familiar things and people didn’t ease the anguish of her heart as she had hoped. Of course, Isabella had only been home for two days. Perhaps she just needed more time. She had already found it too painful to visit the lake or the rose garden. Rafe was there, the memories still too fresh of him in those places. He was in other spots as well – the drawing room, the parlor, the dining room. Even her little day room brought memories of his smiling face, his teasing, his touches.
Lisbeth was due to arrive at any time now. Her friend would be anxious for all of the details of her disastrous trip. It was going to be difficult to keep anything from her. Well, it didn’t matter what she told Lisbeth. Nothing seemed to matter very much.
“My lady,” Edwards said, and bowed to her as she reached the bottom of the steps. “Miss Lisbeth is in the parlor and this has just arrived for you.” He held out a bouquet of lilies.
“Oh,” Isabella said despondently and took the card that was tucked in the wrapping. “They’re from Mr. Dalton. Throw them in the rubbish, Edwards.”
Isabella had forgotten about Mr. Dalton still residing in North Bindlefork. She hoped he wouldn’t make a pest of himself. That was the last thing she needed to have to deal with.
Sighing, she entered the parlor.
“Bella!” Lisbeth jumped up and embraced her friend. Then she stepped back. “It didn’t go well?”
Isabella slouched into a chair. “It was both wonderful and horrible. I made an utter idiot of myself, Beth. And he again refused me.”
“Oh, dearest!” Lisbeth sat on the sofa near her friend’s chair and clasped the other girl’s cold hands. “Did he . . .?”
“No, that’s just the problem. I asked him to make love to me, I begged him to, but he wouldn’t. He just wouldn’t.” The pain was excruciating. “I told him that I wanted to at least have a few nights with him, that the scandal wasn’t important, but he said he couldn’t take that from my future husband.”
Lisbeth sat, stunned. “Well, he did the right thing, Bella. He was honorable.”
“His honor be damned!” Isabella was suddenly furious. “He threw it away, Beth! He could have had my love, but he didn’t want it! He didn’t want me! He said love was nonsense.”
“Bella,” Lisbeth said, kneeling before her. “Darling, there will be other men for you to care for.”
“No! Never will there be another. Don’t you understand?” Isabella pulled her hands from her friend’s grasp. The thought of any other man was abhorrent. “He’s the only man I could ever love. He has my heart, my very soul! Don’t ever speak to me of loving another.”
Lisbeth stood. “But what did he say when you proposed to him?”
Isabella stilled, her eyes wide.
“You did propose to him, after what he said about it being a husband’s privilege? Gracious, Bella, you did propose, didn’t you?”
Flushing, Isabella could only slowly shake her head. “I couldn’t, not after what he said. He only admitted to feeling lust for me. I had to salvage some of my pride.”
“Well, goodness! You were so busy throwing your virginity at his feet, I’m sure very proudly, that you didn’t think to offer him marriage? Did he ever propose?”
“No. Look, we were shouting at each other the only time it was discussed.” Isabella wanted to smack herself. Lisbeth was right. She should have at least told him she would accept him, even if she had been determined not to reveal her tender heart to him. “He said he was glad I didn’t believe in the ‘claptrap’ thought of as love, and I was hurt.”
“Men rarely admit to such tender feelings as love. You should have proposed.”
“We had a plan to get him jealous and see if it was enough to make him offer for me. But then I was running out of time, and I became annoyed with the scheme and sped things up a bit, you see, and, well, it got rather intense between us. He was quite nasty the last time I saw him.”
“I cannot believe you, Isabella Fitzhugh!” Lisbeth dropped down onto the sofa, not bothering to smooth out the muslin fabric of her dress, unmindful of the wrinkles she was causing, so obviously upset. “You had the perfect opportunity, and you let it slip through your fingers.”
“I’ve got to go back to London. I never even told him that I love him! No matter what he said, I must tell him.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Lisbeth shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing wildly. “You’ll not go chasing after him again.”
“But if I don’t, then I will have lost any chance! He must know how I feel.” God, she had been such an idiot. Why had it never crossed her mind that night to ask him to marry her? Why? Even if he had scoffed at love and said she should save herself for another, she still should have tried.
Lisbeth sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “You know he will come for you.”
Isabella started. “Why should he do that? It was very clear that things were over between us. No,” she said and shook her head, frowning, “he will never come here. I’ve ruined everything.”
Lisbeth gave her a knowing loo
k. “Oh, he’ll come all right. You said he was jealous? Well, he’ll come as soon as he hears who is visiting North Bindlefork.”
“Whatever are you talking about? Who in the world is here that would make him come running?” Isabella thought her friend was being ridiculous. Even if Rafe had knocked out poor Lord Smythe for only daring to kiss her shoulder, it was obvious he was through with her.
Lisbeth gave her a smug smile. “Why, only two of the men you mentioned in your notes who were courting you in London. That’s who!”
“You must be joking! Two of them are here? Which ones?” This was incredible! How did they get here so quickly?
“Only Lord Elton and Lord Cross, two of London’s most eligible bachelors. They are staying with Lord Dobbs, the excuse being his fine horseflesh. Of course, the gossip is that they are here to continue paying you court. I do love gossip!”
“But how? I just don’t understand how they knew I had left so quickly.” Isabella was shocked. She had not thought she’d made such an impression on Lord Elton. Oh, he had obviously desired her, but to come all this way? And Lord Cross had been a toad. Why would he think she was interested in him after the way he had behaved? This was very strange, indeed.
“What does that matter? Your duke will undoubtedly be here in time for the ball being held in the lords’ honor tomorrow night.” The blonde clapped her hands together and wrinkled her nose in excitement. “It’s going to be a very interesting evening, I’ll wager.”
The door to Alex’s study flew open, and Rafe rushed in. He spotted his two friends sitting by the sluggish fire.
“Hello there, old man.”
“Alex! She’s gone back home, hasn’t she? Will you come with me? We have to leave right away!” Rafe began pacing, slapping the riding gloves he held in one hand against his thigh. “I have to go and fetch her at once. God, I’ve been such a fool! I only hope she’ll still have me. Well, are you two coming or not?” He stopped and stood before them, legs braced and fists on hips, as if prepared to go to battle.
“You want to go after Bella?” Whit asked the obvious. “Why should you want to do that? You want to hurt her even more?”
Rafe shook his head impatiently. God only knew he deserved that remark. “No, no. I never wanted to hurt her. I love her, man!”
Alex and Whit smiled at each other and shook hands.
“Wait,” Alex said, sobering, and turned his dark eyes to his friend. “Does this mean you’re going to actually marry her? You’d better be thinking along honorable lines here, sport.”
“Of course I want to marry her! God, I cannot think of life without her beside me. I need her!”
“Well, damn me. Then we’d best be off to stop the others.”
“What others?”
“Oh, er, nothing, Rafe. Alex just meant in case any other gentlemen may have followed her home, you know, to continue courting her.”
Rafe looked between the two, who were obviously withholding something. “What did you do? Have you been meddling in her life again?”
“She’s me cousin! I have every right to do what I think best for her. Even if she will flay me for it,” Alex shouted defensively, standing up and thrusting his chin forward.
“Bloody hell!” Rafe rolled his eyes. “You sent them there, these gentlemen suitors. You told them she was easy pickings now, didn’t you?”
“Nothing like that,” Whit assured him, also rising. “It was only to make you jealous again, so you would go to her. It was the only thing we could think of.”
“Good God! Which wolves did you turn loose on her?” Rafe couldn’t believe their stupidity. She had no one to protect her at Kirkwood Manor! Well, at least she finally had a real butler. That was a small conciliation.
“Why don’t we tell you on the way, old chum?” Alex nervously placed his arm around Rafe’s shoulders.
“Bloody hell, I’ll kill you both if you tell me you sent Cross!”
A short while later, the three young lords were riding away from London, Alex with a black eye and Whit sporting a split lip. Rafe had only a few bruised knuckles.
They arrived late the next evening at the tavern in North Bindlefork. The innkeeper himself served them their ale.
“Where is your lovely wench, man? Why is the place so empty?” Alex asked.
“All the help’s been hired out to the Lord Dobbs tonight, m’ lords. Aren’t you going there?”
“Is he having a ball?” Rafe scowled, knowing the answer even before the man nodded.
“Oh, aye! It’s in honor of the young lordlings come from London to court our dear Baroness.” The man beamed at them. “Why, we was surprised that all of ‘em came, but she’s quite a catch.” He winked. “Two of ‘em are staying here, the rest at Lord Dobbs’.”
“What? How many lords have arrived?” Whit glanced from Alex to Rafe.
“Oh, about seven now, I think.”
“Seven?”
Whit grabbed Rafe’s arm. “I swear, we only sent for three, Rafe. I swear it.”
“Just who the bloody hell are they all?” Alex thumped his fist on the table. “I didn’t give any seven permission to court her, by God!”
The innkeeper looked alarmed. “I don’t know, m’ lord.”
Rafe stood, his ale barely touched. “When does this ball start?”
“It’s already begun by now, m’ lord.”
“Damnation!” Rafe was out the door and striding to the stable, his dark cloak swirling about him, the hem brushing against his dust-covered Hessians. “Saddle him up, lad!” He tossed the stable boy a coin. “And be right quick.”
Whit and Alex were fast on his heels. “Rafe,” Whit skidded to a halt beside him. “We look a mess. We can’t just barge in there. Let’s freshen up here, and then go fetch her. It’s still early enough, she’s probably only just on her way.”
Rafe stood still, his jaw clenched. Finally, he nodded. “All right, we’ve got fifteen minutes so be right quick!” He marched back into the pub. He didn’t want to think about how many dances she could have until he got there, surely only one, at most two.
Who the hell were all these men?
“He’s not here, so I’m not going.” Isabella sat before her mirror, absently fingering the topaz necklace already around her throat, while Alice fixed her hair. Lisbeth stood behind her looking cross. “I shall kill Alex for sending all of them here! He’s got some nerve.”
“I’m sure he only thought to add to Rafe’s jealousy, but he did overdo it a bit. Goodness, seven gentlemen all here for you!”
“They are bloody consolation prizes, is what they are. Since I can’t have Rafe, I am to choose one of them.” She snorted and her eyes blazed with anger. “I can’t believe he would send Lord Cross, though.”
“Why?”
“He nearly attacked me at MacPherson’s ball. Rafe came to my rescue.” She sighed and her expression softened. “He always came to my rescue before, but not now. No, I ruined that.”
“Oh, do stop that nonsense!” Lisbeth stamped her slippered foot in irritation. “He’ll be there and so you are going, and that’s final. You’re mad if you think I’ll miss this!”
Lisbeth had insisted she wear the gold gown with the topaz jewelry. Isabella didn’t care if she were wearing sackcloth. Rafe wasn’t coming.
An hour after they had arrived at the ball and still there was no sign of him. Already she had danced with Lord Jeffrey, who had arrived only that morning, Lord Elton, Lord Bickers, and Lord Smythe. She had refused both Lord Cross and Mr. Dalton repeatedly.
Isabella saw Lisbeth dance by, dressed in the very pretty pale blue gown she had brought her friend, in the arms of Jeffrey and smiled. It was very sweet of him to come, really. He had confided to her that while he was a bit smitten with her lovely self, more than anything had wanted to see what would happen and be sure she was all right. Apparently, most of London had been following her courtship with Rafe. It was embarrassing. At least they all thought she had rejected his suit,
not the other way around. Goodness, if the Ton only knew the absurdity of their supposed courtship, they would laugh themselves sick.
Isabella sighed and rubbed her throbbing temples. This was all too much. He wouldn’t come for her – why should he? He didn’t believe in love, and he’d made it clear that marriage wasn’t on his mind. He’d even spoken casually of some future husband for her. No, he couldn’t love her if he was willing to let another have her.
But he had wanted her, that much she knew. Yes, he’d wanted her, but where had that gotten either of them?
And then, just when she had decided to leave, Isabella knew he had arrived.
It wasn’t the murmurs all around her, and it wasn’t Lisbeth whispering in her ear, “He’s here! He’s here!”
No, she could feel him close by, could sense his eyes upon her. She took a deep breath and turned. There he was, flanked by his two friends, standing nearly a head above the others crowding forward to greet him, his blue eyes shooting sparks at her. Oh God! He’d come for her! Or had he? She waved her hand absently at whomever was tugging on her other arm. Oh dear, why was he scowling so ferociously? Had he come to further humiliate her with his caustic words? Would he tell them how wanton she was?
Why was he here?
“Please, Baroness, just one dance since I’ve come all this way to see only you?”
“Yes, all right, later then.” She couldn’t look away from him as he approached. He looked so handsome, and he wasn’t even wearing formal evening garb. How could Alex have thought she would accept any of these paltry fellows when compared to Rafe? He was almost upon her. What should she say?
“Take your goddamn hand off of her, you ass!” Rafe didn’t wait for the other man to comply, but punched the fellow in the nose.