Christopher strode straight toward her, and made her feel the size of a pea, when he glowered down at her. His beautiful midnight blue eyes, flashed with fire, and she swallowed thickly, suddenly noticing that there was an unmovable lump lodged in her throat. The man looked as if he was battling against the inclination to shake her senseless.
“You lied to me!” he accused, his cutting words seared right through her thick skin, and she found that her stiff upper lip was wobbling furiously. His anger and disappointment in her shouldn’t have affected her so deeply, but it did.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you had a contract out for your life?”
She mustered what was left of her shattered courage, and stared up at him unflinchingly.
“I didn’t know. It’s only Pierre flexing his muscles. He’s trying to tell me that he can reach across the English Channel and hurt me. He wouldn’t…well, I’m sure he put it out saying that I should be brought in alive. I don’t think he wants me dead, of course, if I was dead, he’d be able to keep all of my lands…”
At her words his face contorted, and turned another more impressive shade of red. He looked as if he was about to blow, and the vein in his forehead throbbed, almost as if it were about to explode. He strode away from her, and began pacing angrily across the small room. Her eyes followed him, as he walked back and forth, back and forth.
“You confound me, Isabella,” he raged, clasping his hands tightly behind his back. “You are unbelievable.” He stopped abruptly, and turned to peer scathingly down at her. “He was a bloody assassin. He wasn’t there to fetch you back to Pierre, he was there to kill you!”
This time Isabella flinched, and without realizing how upset she was, her hand began shaking. She’d been through too much in the last few days. She was stressed to the breaking point. Her sorrow over losing her aunt, her powers, and being almost killed at sea, and now this—she couldn’t stand much more.
“You needn’t shout at me so, you will upset Jason. Pierre doesn’t want me dead he just wants me brought back to France. You only thought he was an assassin. He…he must have gotten the wrong end of the stick…Pierre…no, Pierre wouldn’t kill me. Why keep me alive for four years only to kill me now?”
“You are by far the most stubborn, not to mention most imbecilic woman that I have ever had the misfortune to run across.”
“Oh, come now, that’s a bit harsh,” Jason interrupted, but his voice trailed off when Christopher rested his stern gaze on him.
“Don’t you dare look at Jason like that,” Isabella said, rage boiling over as she jumped up from her chair and moved to confront Christopher. “If you are angry at me, then you may direct your ire toward me. Don’t worry. I can take whatever you dish out at me. I reckon it won’t be much different from your rages of last eve.”
“What the bloody hell does Isabella mean? What did you do to my cousin, Christopher?”
“I damn well didn’t do anything to her. Though, right now, I’m tempted to give her the thrashing of a lifetime. It seems to me she needs a few good spankings.” He took a step toward her.
“Just try it. Would you like me to sleep with you again after you spank me?”
“You’ll pay for that you little chit,” he said, beneath his breath.
They were both pulled back to reality by Jason’s indignant bellow. “Sleep with you again? Damn it, man! What the hell have you done? If you’ve hurt Isabella, I swear I’ll challenge you to a duel. If you forced her to—”
“Hush now. Jason, you are upsetting yourself. He didn’t ravish me like a thoughtless libertine. He was actually quite gentle. I hardly even knew he was in the bed. He was rather uninspiring.”
“Why you…you little chit! I didn’t do anything to you. I’d never force a woman, and Jason knows it.”
“I won’t have to be in the same room with you anymore, since Jason will now take care of me.” She had him, right where she wanted him. Even though a little voice in the back of her head was telling her that she was going too far, she didn’t want to believe it. She wanted Christopher to pay. But did she really have to paint such a black picture of him? “Jason won’t care even if you have tarnished my reputation.”
“What reputation?” Christopher scoffed, muttering a colourful oath beneath his breath.
“Christopher, are you implying that my cousin is a woman of low regard?” Jason asked.
“Of course I am, Elphinstone,” he cleared his throat, and then continued. “’Course I’d never go as far to say that she’s lowered herself to the ranks of a lowly convenient. I am quite certain she’s never accepted monetary payments for her services, only favours.”
This time Isabella nearly clawed his eyes out, and though she remained calm, imagining it, gave her great satisfaction.
“For the millionth and last time, Christopher, no man except for you, has ever touched me in such an intimate matter. I am a virtuous woman. And if you ever call me a strumpet again, I shall be moved to put a curse on you.”
“If he ever calls you a whore again, I shall challenge him. How dare you throw my cousin’s name in with that of a lady of the night!” Jason flung his legs over the side of the bed, and Isabella bit on her lower lip, when she noticed him wince in pain.
“You, my sweet lad, aren’t going anywhere,” she said firmly, moving to restrain him.
“Oh, aye I am. Theo tells me I’m as strong as a horse.”
“But you shouldn’t be overexerting yourself, Jason.”
“It is no bother. I’m right as rain. And since I’m responsible for you in the absence of my father that means that it falls to me to go to London with Christopher and procure a special wedding licence.”
“Go to London? Without me? No…I shall hear none of it. We shall go to London together. What is this special license you speak about, Jason?”
“A wedding license, why of course,” he said somberly.
“What?”
“What?” Christopher echoed.
Chapter Thirteen
“Christopher has comprised your reputation, so he shall make you a respectable woman.”
“No…no, he shan’t!” Isabella’s stomach churned, and she felt faint. “I will not become that nincompoop’s wife. I would rather return to France.” She slapped her hand across her mouth as the meaning of her words hit home. She glanced over at Christopher. He gave her a dirty look. She looked away.
“Do you see any amusement in my eyes?” Jason asked, as Isabella swallowed and shook her head. She was scrunching her dress between her hands, and she was so preoccupied with her own affairs that she didn’t even notice that Christopher now stood beside her. “Besides, Christopher, Isabella is more than a match for you socially, and seems to be able to handle your personality rather well from what I’ve seen so far. Your mother will be overjoyed to have her as a daughter-in-law. She always hoped the two of you would get married.”
“Rubbish. I will not be leg-shackled to such a hissing, spitting hellcat, even if she would give me many pleasures in my bed…she still will not do. Besides, if we are to be married by special license, we might as well be married in London with the family around us.”
Isabella felt as if her legs were about to abandon her so she quickly fell into the nearest chair. She was trembling from head to foot. This was not what she had been planning. She couldn’t marry Christopher. She wouldn’t last one day with him. He’d either kill her, or she’d try killing him, or even worse, she might be tempted to do away with her own life. Oh, no! She most certainly could not take a life of wedded drudgery with the stuck up, priggish, hotheaded man.
“I shall not marry a woman that has a price out on her head. Nor will I marry a witch…it goes against all that I believe.” He crossed his arms, in a defiant stance.
“You know the fact that Isabella has certain ‘talents’ only fascinates you…you have no issue with her ability to dabble in the mystical side of life. Besides, you love a challenge. You love adventure. She shall make you the
ideal wife.”
Isabella couldn’t quite believe what her cousin proposed. Jason could see that she was horrified, and Christopher was repulsed, and yet it hadn’t affected him in the slightest bit. She wished desperately that Jason hadn’t been born with such an amiable constitution.
“Might I remind you that your love lust found you standing at this door in the first place?” Jason turned to confront Christopher. “And if Isabella has a husband it will protect her from the blackguards that pursue her. They have tried once, don’t be stupid, old man, you know that they shall attempt it again. And again, and again, they will not rest until they’ve achieved their goal. They obviously suspect that Isabella has gone rogue, and that she needs to be dealt with. And, you know how that will turn out for her.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She was trying desperately to feign ignorance. Besides, she couldn’t believe that Pierre actually wanted her dead…but then, he had condemned her father and he had been Pierre’s nephew.
Christopher snorted loudly. “For God’s sake, Isabella, would you get your head out of those plump clouds that it’s floating in? I know that you’re a spy. You’re probably the worst damn spy that France has ever trained but hell—a spy is a spy. And, unless you think that Jason is an addle-brained twit, you would realize that he’s jumped to the same conclusion. You’re pretty transparent, Isabella. You’ll have to get in touch with the more dramatic aspects of your personality, if you’re going to survive being married to me. You’ll have to give a grand performance as my Marchioness, or you’ll fall flat on your face.”
She frowned at him. “And why would I use your title when I am already a Duchess in my own right?” Her words damned her. Now it seemed as if she was resigned to becoming his wife.
“Well, you can do as you please, but I would like my wife to be known as Lady Wyndham. However, if you do not want people to know that you are my wife, you may use whatever title you want.”
His words made her stomach flutter nervously. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. Her title held little power in London Society. His would probably serve her better, and yet, she did like being a duchess, and keeping the legacy that her dear papa had left her alive.
“This marriage must come to fruition. There is no other way to guarantee Isabella’s safety. Besides, once Isabella takes her marriage vows, she will be loyal to her husband, no matter what comes her way. She was raised to be loyal.” Jason’s dark eyes glittered. Obviously, he was not going to be swayed on this subject at hand.
“Who knows how or in what manner she was raised, Elphinstone? You forget there’s a four year gap in her life, a hole where she was at the mercies of a madman like Pierre. We all know how his kind thinks. He has probably conditioned her to sell her soul and sell—”
The look of thunder Jason served Christopher stopped him from finishing his sentence before he could foray into even more dangerous territory.
Slow, hot tears began to trickle down her face, even as she quickly wiped them away. How could she break Jason’s heart? He believed in her. But what could she do? If she didn’t report to Napoleon’s agent, Pierre would kill Daphne. And if she did tell Napoleon that Pierre was conspiring against him, Daphne would be killed. Either way, Pierre would make sure that she returned to France, and he would then overthrow attempt to overthrow Napoleon. What she really needed was for Napoleon to kill Pierre. Her hands were tied. She didn’t like the corner she’d been forced into in the slightest.
But Pierre had underestimated her for far too long. She would find a way to free Daphne, and make sure that Pierre got everything that he deserved and then some. Even if she had to beg Napoleon for his protection, she would do whatever it took. She had no other choice.
“I won’t marry him. The family will understand.” She remained cool and aloof even though she didn’t fully believe what she was saying.
“Do you want your night with Christopher to be the talk of the ton?”
“Of course I don’t, pray don’t be so absurd. But London will always treat me with cruelty. As far as I am concerned, I do not have anything to lose. Let’s face it, the last four years are a mystery to the Beau Monde, so that already makes the Town pariah. I couldn’t be more of a black sheep when it comes to London Society. I might as well paint a scarlet letter on myself right now. It would give Christopher great satisfaction.” She raised her head, and tipped her perky nose in the air. “I am a De Clermont. I shall overcome whatever society flings at me.”
“And what will you do when you find you cannot make a suitable match?” Jason insisted.
“I shall prepare myself for a life of spinsterhood.”
“And you think that will make you happy?”
“And why should it not? A woman doesn’t require a man to make her happy, Jason.”
“Well, you dear heart, shall require one. I shan’t listen to anything else, and I doubt that Papa would say anything to the contrary. Now that we’ve settled everything, we shall have to go to London and arrange for the wedding. There is little point in having someone go to London and then return here with the marriage license.”
“We haven’t settled a damn thing. I shall not marry Christopher. Jason, there is nothing you can say that will persuade me to enter into holy matrimony with that bastard.”
Christopher harrumphed, and sent her a steely gaze that made goose pimples erupt across her skin.
“I’m a bastard, am I? You weren’t thinking that way back in France. I can say I did like the taste of your lips and the feel of your body back there. Admit it, Duchess, you are besotted with me. We might go from two different forms of heated passion on a regular basis, but you know deep in your heart that I’m meant to be in your life—and God help me, I know I’m meant to be in yours. We knew it from the first moment we met again at the masquerade.”
She ignored his fervent speech. She had to. He was all hot to trot to bind himself to her right now, only because he was as loyal to Jason as she was, but as soon as the novelty of marriage wore off, they’d be at each other’s throats. He could never trust her, so they would never be able to have a happy marriage. She couldn’t live with a man that watched her every single step.
“There is another alternative,” she suggested, wrenching her eyeballs off Christopher, and fixing them on Jason. “You could marry me. That match would certainly delight our families.”
A hush fell through the room, and he looked even madder than he had before. Now he looked as if he was partially on his way to Bedlam, and he had that murderous glint back in his entrancing eyes. She was being persuaded into marrying Christopher without even being cajoled by Jason.
There was nothing more that she’d rather do right now, then throw herself into his arms. God help her, even when he was being a great big popinjay, she still felt inclined to throw herself at him, and smash her lips against his, and let him do all of those naughty things…. She was startled out of her daydream by Jason’s soft voice.
“I can’t marry you, dearest.” At Jason’s softly spoken words relief invaded her heart, and then grief stole into it as well. Jason didn’t want her either. She truly did have a scarlet letter tattooed on her.
“You don’t want me.” She’d never felt so despondent. Her accusation made heartache steal into Jason’s brown eyes.
“No, it’s not that, Bella. You’d make me a fine wife. The fact is you’re too much like a sister to me. You remind me of Roselyn, and I love you in the same way,” Jason confessed, as his jaw began twitching nervously. “I could never be the sort of husband you deserve. I’d never be able to—”
She raised her hand to silence him.
“No, no. It is nothing. I understand. You don’t want me because you think I’m a strumpet just as he does. Well, then, I suppose I am stuck with that varlet. Mayhap, he’ll accept the two children I birthed while I was stuck in France.” Tears began streaming down her face, and she was so humiliated that she made no attempt to wipe them away. In a burst of energy, she
pushed past Christopher and flew out the door.
“Now that was a bold faced lie,” Christopher declared.
“Do me a favour, Christopher, and do shut up! I shall do it. I will marry her.”
“You can’t marry Isabella.” Christopher wanted to rush after Isabella. He wanted to wipe her tears away, and pull her into his arms. That blasted woman had him wanting to strangulate her one moment, and kiss her the next. It was most vexing.
“Do go to hell. I can marry her and you can’t do anything to stop me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I could knock you senseless,” he countered grinning broadly. “
“Let me go, Christopher. I need to go to her side, and tell her that I will indeed become her husband.”
“Allow me to take care of Isabella. I’ll see that she gets exactly what she deserves. If I allow you to go to her, she shall wrap you around her little finger and you’ll be saying I do, before you even knew what hit you. Granted, one of us will have to fetch a special license.”
“If she wants me to marry her, I shall. I can’t bear to see her in that pitiable state. I still haven’t paid my debt to her.”
“What bloody debt?” Christopher exploded. His head was pounding horribly, and he wanted to… well he didn’t know what he wanted to do. On the one hand, if he did marry Isabella, he’d be able to bed her, since he had already wed her. But if he married her, he’d be stuck with her forever. And that thought didn’t really appeal to him at the moment.
“Isabella saved my life. Who the hell do you think pulled me out of the English Channel, eh?”
“Err…well I sort of thought that you had saved Isabella.”
“Well, she saved my life. She dragged my huge injured body out of the water, without even knowing who I was I might add. All she knew was that I was in His Majesty’s Navy. And by the way, if I ever hear you call her a Frenchwoman in such a disparaging way again, I shall end our friendship. Need I remind you that my mother was a Frenchwoman?”
The Duchess and the Spy Page 16