by Wendy Vella
“I know, and I have tried to explain that I am fine, but you know Nick.”
“That I do.” Beth looked at her cousin. “If he is worrying about you, however, he is not worrying about me, which is a nice change. For so long we were strangers, and now that we are not he is extremely diligent in his duties toward me.”
“You mean he is bossy and nosy.”
“That also.” Beth laughed. “But it is nice that he cares.”
“Nice for you both to have each other,” Grace said, patting her hand. “And I do feel a great deal better now the nausea has passed, Beth, and had to come tonight to support you, as Nick said you have been inundated with morning callers since the betrothal.”
“It is not real, Grace, you know that also, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I must admit that I think you and Leo would be happy together, and you certainly make a lovely couple.”
Shock held Beth momentarily speechless.
“You cannot be serious. We can barely be in the same room without yelling at each other.”
“Yes, that is odd, don’t you think? I wonder why that occurs.” Grace looked at Beth.
“Pardon?”
“Why do you and Leo always argue? There has to be a reason, surely.”
“Well... ah, of course.”
“And?”
“Why does my cousin look like a cornered rabbit, Grace?” Nick joined the conversation.
“I was just asking her why she and Leo always argued, and that I thought they would make a wonderful married couple should they choose to remain betrothed.”
“Good lord, stop, Grace!” Beth could not believe her ears. “I will never choose to stay betrothed to him, nor he to me.”
“And yet you are betrothed,” Nick said, “and I could not handpick a better man to be your husband, were I being honest. Even considering the history between you.”
“I cannot believe you said that,” Beth managed to get out. “Leo and I could never.... Dear Lord, just the prospect makes me shudder.”
Surely it made her shudder... didn’t it?
“If you truly feel that, then why did you agree to be his betrothed?” Grace asked.
“Because I do not like that woman Harriet Hyndmarsh, and seeing the shock on her face when Leo said we were betrothed was something I enjoyed far more than I should have, which possibly makes me a bad person, but is the truth. Then there is the small matter of men leaving me alone. Mr. Humperdingle has been sending me wounded looks, but has not approached. To say it is a relief I do not have to smell his foul breath and smile until my mouth aches, is an understatement.”
“Leo? When did he become Leo?” Nick questioned her.
“You heard that one word out of all the others I have just spoken?”
“Well, he is calling you Beth, and I asked him when that familiarity had occurred; it is only fair I do so to you.”
“This conversation is silly, and over. Excuse me, someone is signaling me.”
“Who?”
Ignoring Nick’s question, Beth left, deciding she needed a few minutes alone in the cool evening air. Time away from her family so she did not give in to the urge to box their ears.
Stepping through the open doors to the terrace, she strolled in the company of a few other guests who sought the air before taking their seats for the readings. Wandering along the deck she looked at the night sky, and wondered when she would receive another note. Anything would be better than this intolerable waiting. It was playing havoc with her nerves.
Is it him?
“Miss Whitlow?”
Beth nodded as a footman approached.
“A note arrived for you.”
She looked at the silver tray that held the missive with dread. Surely he would not know her whereabouts. Surely it was... what? Had her aunt taken ill? Reaching for it, she nodded to the servant, and then when he left, she moved to the railing and opened it.
I know where you go, Miss Whitlow. I have eyes all over London, and all are focused on you. You will pay for your behavior, WHORE! And if you do not do as I say, then your cousin or his wife will be made to pay. Or perhaps I shall kill your fiancé?
Chapter Fifteen
“Who are you looking for?”
“No one,” Leo said, letting his eyes circle the room.
“No,” Grace said, “you are definitely looking for someone, and if it is Beth, she went that way.”
Leo looked down at his best friend’s wife. He saw that pregnancy had Grace glowing.
“Why would I want to find Miss Whitlow?”
“Because you are betrothed, and surely that is reason enough. Or perhaps now that you have spent more time together you actually like her... very much. In fact, it’s my belief that whatever animosity once lay between you has gone, and now you are friends, very good friends.”
“Grace,” he warned. “It has been four days and in that time I have hardly seen Miss Whitlow, so please stop whatever this is.”
“It’s called matchmaking, Leo.”
“And you can stop it right now.”
“Yes, Leo.” She smiled sweetly up at him.
“Don’t meddle,” he added.
“You are betrothed, and while it is a fake one, I believe she will make you a wonderful wife.”
“And I repeat, don’t meddle.”
“Leo, you told society she was yours, it is not I who is meddling.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re a devilishly clever woman. Tell me again why you married that idiot.”
“Because he is quite simply the best man I have ever known.”
“Carrying that baby has made you soft.”
“Very likely.” She patted his arm. “But I am right, Leo. Beth would make you a perfect wife.”
“I’m sure she would disagree with you.”
“However, you do not?”
“Lord save me,” he groaned.
“Go and find her.” Grace made a shooing gesture.
He gave up and simply left, heading away from the meddling woman, and in the direction Grace had indicated. Of course she’d been right, and he was looking for Beth. The woman was, as always, in the forefront of his thoughts.
Circling the room, he came up empty-handed, so Leo made his way through the open balcony doors. Nodding as he walked, he circled the house, and found her alone, staring out into the night. As he drew near Leo saw the paper crushed into one gloved fist.
“Beth?”
He startled her, forcing her to turn before hiding her thoughts. He’d seen that look a few times lately on her.
“My lord. Have you come to tell me the readings are about to begin?”
“No. Was it bad news?” He could not stop his eyes running over her. She was stunning in the moonlight. Her flaxen hair was bundled high, exposing the elegant line of her neck and shoulders. The dress had an overskirt of soft ivory lace, separated down the middle to reveal an underskirt of rose satin. A band of matching satin also trimmed the bodice, and drew his eyes to the curves of her lovely breasts. She wore ivory gloves and slippers, and Leo thought beautiful was too simple a word to describe how she looked tonight.
“I beg your pardon?” She wouldn’t look at him.
“The note you have crushed in your hand. Was it bad news?”
“This?” she said, but it was only a few decibels below a shriek. “No indeed, just a note from a friend who could not make it tonight.”
“And they delivered the message here?”
“Yes. I had left home before it arrived, so they forwarded it to me.”
Leo stepped to the left as she tried to walk around him, blocking her exit. “What’s going on, Beth?”
She appeared confused, even wrinkling her nose.
“La, I declare, Lord Vereton, I am unsure what it is you speak of. I am of course looking forward to the evening, and wished only for a breath of cool air before we took our seats.”
“La?” He kept his eyes on her face, holding her chin up now so
she was forced to return his gaze. “You have never in my memory said that word, so I beg of you not to begin now, as it makes you sound like an empty-headed fool.”
“The word la makes me sound empty-headed? That is extremely harsh of you, when at least twenty ladies will use the word multiple times this evening.”
She was trying to change the subject, but Leo was not allowing that.
“Possibly, but I care nothing for them. It is you who concerns me, so tell me what is wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong,” she snapped, anger now straightening her spine. “I have had quite enough of you continually telling me there is. Our betrothal is fake, Lord Vereton, please remember that and stop following and questioning me constantly. I should not have allowed this silly charade to begin with. I blame it on a moment of insanity; I assure you it has now passed. Please excuse me, as I wish to go inside, my lord.”
As she shivered, Leo yielded and released her. Taking her hand, he placed it on his arm, and walked slowly back toward the doors.
“I have decided I wish for our betrothal to end at once, my lord.”
“And yet when last we spoke you had no wish to do so. What has changed?”
“I have just explained that I wish for my life to return to what it was, without you in it. Please do as I have suggested.”
“I do believe that hurt.”
“No it didn’t, and stop needling me.”
“I thought we were just getting comfortable in each other’s company, Beth.”
“No, we are not.”
“But I am beginning to understand you, as you are me.” He was needling her, he conceded, but at least if he was doing that she may forget what was in the note, because he hated seeing the fear in her eyes. For now that was enough—at least until she told him what was going on, anyway.
“It would take a great deal more than a handful of days for me to understand you, Lord Vereton, and as I have no wish to, please do as I have stated.”
“But I know a great deal now about you, my dear Miss Whitlow. I know that this cool facade you portray is hiding a great deal of passion and warmth. That you care for others, and that when I kissed you—”
“Stop it!”
“Tell me what is wrong and I will.”
“Nothing is wrong, and this entire conversation is foolish.”
Leo stopped and turned her to face him, his eyes once again searching her face. “I know you are lying to me, Beth. Will you not trust me so I can help you?”
“Stop asking me this!”
“I will when you tell me what is bothering you. Is it one of the girls in the shop, or the man you thought was watching you? Is that letter you hold bad news?”
“Stop it, Leo.” Her words had run out of strength and were a ragged whisper.
“Tell me.” He moved them into the shadows, not stopping until they were tucked behind a large stone pillar, out of sight. Easing her into his arms, he held her close.
“There is nothing to tell, please release me.”
Looking down at her, he felt it again, the tightness inside his chest. She had become important to him. He just wasn’t sure how that had happened in such a short space of time, when once they had disliked each other intensely.
“Leave this alone, Leo.”
“So you admit something is upsetting you?”
“I do not.”
He could feel the tension in her body, making a lie of her words.
“Liar.” Cupping her jaw, Leo kissed her softly.
She did not resist; in fact she rose to her toes to get closer, and Leo placed a hand on her spine and held there. The feel of her body pressed to his was exquisite, and the taste of her lips bliss. In seconds he’d forgotten everything but Beth, and how much he wanted this woman.
As one kiss finished, another started, and soon her hands were on his shoulders holding him close.
A laugh carried to them on the breeze, and she pulled away from him.
“God help me, what is this madness?” she whispered.
“I am not going to apologize when kissing you was something we both enjoyed, Beth.”
“I wish for you to call off our betrothal.” She said the words slowly. “This must stop for both our sakes. It is not real and never will be.”
“No.”
“B-but why not?”
“Tell me what is bothering you.”
“Other than the fact that I am betrothed to a man I have no wish to wed?”
“Yes, other than that.”
“N-no, there is nothing else wrong.”
“You’re lying to me, Miss Whitlow. Something is wrong, but for now I will not push the matter. However, I will say again that should there be a time you need help, or you wish to tell me, then I am of course at your service.”
“This is silly, Leo. I don’t need you at my service.”
“Is something threatening you, Beth?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, why would someone threaten me?” She looked at his necktie now.
“Why indeed?”
“I’m returning to the readings, so please stop this nonsense and break the betrothal.”
“Not until the season has ended.”
She pushed his chest, so he had little option but to step away from her. He wondered, as he nudged her through the doorway before him, if he should talk to Nick about Beth. He needed to do something, because he knew when someone was scared, and Elizabeth Whitlow was terrified.
Chapter Sixteen
The next letter came as Beth lay in a bath of steaming, fragrant water. She always did her best thinking when bathing. Add a cup of tea and plate of food, and she was usually in heaven. Today however, she was finding it hard to achieve that state. So many thoughts were whirling loudly inside her head that she was struggling to focus on a single one.
“A missive has arrived, Miss Whitlow.”
“Thank you, Amanda.” Beth lowered her teacup and pushed herself upright.
“Will you read it in there?”
“I will, thank you.”
Opening the note her maid handed her, she braced herself to read the blackmailer’s words. He wanted money this time, and she was to bring it to St. Mathew’s in Tweed Street at 11.00 a.m. tomorrow. She was to place it under the third pew on the right side of the aisle.
Tell no one, or I shall make you pay by hurting someone you love, WHORE!
Reading the words a second time, Beth felt a measure of calm. The threat was still there but at least now he was demanding something. She could take action, and if she paid, then the people she wanted to protect would stay safe—for now. This would also allow her time to work through a plan to thwart him. Beth knew she could not give in to his demands indefinitely, or the blackmailer would never let her out of his clutches, but for now she would appease him.
She chose to walk the following day, as the distance to the church was not far, and took Amanda with her. It would clear her head, as she had not slept well, visions of Grace and Leo covered in blood haunting her. How had everything changed so quickly in her life? She blamed Leo, of course. Had he not made that ridiculous statement about them being engaged, then her life would have continued on the way it always had. The rational side of her nature knew that to be untrue, as Leo had nothing to do with the blackmailer, but still, it felt good to blame someone, so he would do.
“’Tis a lovely day, Miss Whitlow.”
“Indeed it is, Amanda,” Beth lied. In fact, it was a terrible day. She was being blackmailed by a man who had violated her in the worst way possible. She’d come to the conclusion it had to be him, but as yet, she had no idea how to stop him. She’d thought about telling Nick, then discarded it; he did not need the added worry at this stage with Grace and the baby.
Beth had thought long and hard about what her next steps should be. Would it not simply be better to disappear from society? But then what was to stop him punishing her by hurting someone she cared for? Would he follow to wherever she went? Was her life to be spent
paying his demands? What if he approached her... dear Lord, she could not even contemplate him touching her again.
The day was cool, and she enjoyed the crisp air on her cheeks. It was bracing, and that was definitely what she needed. Beth tensed as she saw the steeple of St. Mathew’s.
“Amanda, I have decided to visit St. Mathew’s. If you have anything you wish to do, then please meet me back here in twenty minutes.”
“I shall sit in the park, Miss Whitlow, if that is all right with you?”
The park was only a short walk away, and Beth felt comfortable knowing her maid would be so close.
“It is, thank you.”
Sucking in a deep lungful of smoky London air, she climbed the steps. Standing outside briefly, Beth looked at the wooden door and prayed he was not inside. All she had to do was drop the money where he had told her to. Suddenly her reticule seemed twice its weight, dangling from her wrist.
Once she was steady, she opened the door and walked inside.
Leo had spent the night rolling from one side of his large bed to the other, so he rose early and bathed. After a ride, and long, leisurely breakfast, where he devoured kippers, ham and eggs, a pot of coffee, and several of his cook’s rolls—unlike others he knew, worry did not deter his appetite—he decided to visit Beth.
She, of course, was the reason for his sleepless night. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanting her, and needing to know what the hell was going on in her life. She was a mix of so many people that he wasn’t sure who the true Elizabeth Whitlow was anymore.
As his carriage rolled through London, he stared out the window at the passing scenery, thinking about the Miss Whitlow he now knew. He could no longer deny the attraction he felt for her, that he’d probably always felt for her but had denied vehemently. Was this why they had always behaved like two circling dogs?
His purpose for visiting was to talk about their betrothal, and then he would insist she tell him what was troubling her, because something was. He’d been investigating long enough now to know when someone was hiding something.
Looking out the window, he guessed he was five minutes away. Inhaling a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. Just the thought of seeing her was making him tense.