Beyond Rubies (Daughters of Sin Book 4)

by Beverley Oakley

  Only Lord Ludbridge showed the same adoration as previously, and her heart went out to him even more. Sir Aubrey had betrayed her. He’d led her to believe he would make her an offer, and then had secretly wed Hetty. Debenham treated her abominably. He’d tricked her into marriage then shown callous disregard for her comfort and desires the moment she’d begun to lose the outward attractions that had been his principal interest.

  But Lord Ludbridge was pure of heart. Of all the handsome, eligible men she’d encountered, he deserved her the most.

  Later, as she sat quietly embroidering in the drawing room, pretending her chief concern was embellishing the infant’s cap Jane had sewn, her thoughts drifted to the life she should have had. A life at Lord Ludbridge’s side, as his hostess, the adored angel he would have put on a pedestal if he hadn’t left her vulnerable to wicked, wicked Debenham.

  “Lady Debenham, are you all right?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d sobbed aloud, but here he was, bending low at her side, his voice an intimate murmur. The soft caress of his breath against her exposed neck sent a charge of desire right through her groin, piercing her heart along the way, and as she gazed at him, she could feel his answering need for her as though it were a tangible thing.

  She flicked a glance past him. The men were discussing their ride in a cluster at the sideboard as Lord Partington refilled glasses. Hetty and her mother were quietly occupied in their twin armchairs on either side of the fireplace. The curtains were drawn for it was dark outside and the room was bathed in a soft, rosy glow that reflected off the red, patterned wallpaper and the rich cream and red Aubusson rug. Araminta knew she would be seen to her best advantage with such soft lighting. It would be a good time to press her advantage.

  “I find it difficult to sit for so long when that’s all Mama and Hetty wish to do. Perhaps you would accompany me for a walk to the conservatory, Lord Ludbridge.” She smiled, hoping he’d appreciate the graceful curve of her neck after she’d angled herself slightly to the right. His hesitation was swept away when she surreptitiously brushed his coat sleeve, then the back of his hand, with her fingertips before picking up her needlework once more, pretending she’d never made a gesture that appealed to him so artfully. “My Cousin Stephen is a keen horticulturist and very proud of his pineapple, but perhaps I might show you, myself.” She sent him an impish smile. “You can impress him with your superior knowledge of cultivation, later, when he no doubt collars you and the rest of the gentlemen and takes you all off to admire his latest achievements.”

  “I would be delighted, Lady Debenham. That is if you are sure it would not be too taxing.”

  Araminta rose, careful to do so with less eagerness than she was feeling. “No, no, the physician, in fact, recommends a little gentle exercise. Come.” As she looked over her shoulder when she reached the door, her heart hitched a little to see him staring after her as if he truly were entranced.

  And when she took his arm in the passage after the door was shut behind them, she was aware of the frisson of feeling that charged up her arm, and knew he felt it too, by the flare in his eye.

  Leisurely, they made their progress along the passage to the conservatory at the rear of the house, passing through the pinery and into a separate structure, more private, where Araminta said, with a flourish of her arm, “Cousin Stephen is experimenting with oak bark in water to create the temperatures needed, for the pineapple does not grow as easily as his oranges.” She turned, suddenly, for now they were in the center of the cavernous structure, the air noticeably warmer and moister. Araminta was feeling warmer and moister, too. With a heartfelt look at Lord Ludbridge, she whispered in equally impassioned tones, “You cannot know how I have missed you, Teddy.”

  Over his shoulder, the star-studded sky twinkled through the many panes of glass, but it was his face, pained and full of answering love, that drew her attention as he gave rein to the full force of his feelings.

  “Dear God, Araminta, what are you doing to me? Why tell me this when you know how you torture me?”

  She was rather gratified by his lack of constraint. Lord Ludbridge was the most proper of men, and his response was even better than she could have hoped for, making it easy to swoon into his arms and twine her arms behind his neck, raising her head for his kiss.

  His lips came down upon hers, hard and passionately, and she was about to surrender herself completely when she remembered the odd cushioned bulk about her middle that he would assuredly realize was a ruse if his hands were to wander. With a cry of real anguish, she broke free, stepping back and shaking her head.

  “This is torment, Lord Ludbridge. I don’t know how you can bear to look at me. I must be disgusting to you. Why, this would have been your child had you not left me vulnerable to the cruel clutches of that hated devil, Debenham.” She clasped her hands over her belly. “How I wish it were your child, but how wrong of me to utter such blasphemies and to give in to my desires.” Her shoulders shook with unfeigned passion. “Debenham is a tyrant, yet I am completely at his mercy.”

  “Araminta. Miss Partington. I mean, Lady Debenham...” Lord Ludbridge took a step forward, and would have taken Araminta once more into his arms had she not stepped backward.

  She shook her head, and said in a small voice, “You are too good for me, Lord Ludbridge, and I must beware my wayward heart.” Plucking a small white flower that sprouted beside her, she held it to her heart, which truly was beating painfully. How she longed to throw herself—her everything—to the wind and surrender to what he was prepared to offer her now, yet had not been able to bring himself to offer when she’d so needed him to succumb to his desires. The night he proposed. The night before he abandoned her to leave for France in order to rescue that...childhood sweetheart who’d apparently had such a claim on his conscience and sense of honor.

  “Araminta, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Oh Lord Ludbridge...Teddy? I can still call you that, can’t I? You cannot know how your friendship sustains me when I think of the perversities Debenham will subject me to when I am back within his orbit and...no longer with child. Right now, in my current situation...breeding...he wished me out of his sight. I disgust him, just as I must disgust you.”

  “You would never disgust me, Araminta! My angel, my pearl, you are divine.” He grasped her hands and kissed each knuckle as he went on. “You are my Madonna. Yes, Madonna; that worthy, blameless goddess who comes to mind whenever I gaze at your serene, maternal beauty.” His voice broke. “I could refuse you nothing.”

  Araminta brought her hands up to her face, and felt her shoulders shake as she sobbed softly.

  “My dearest, what is it?” He sounded shocked. “Tell me!”

  Pacing, she shook her head as her sobbing intensified. “Oh, Teddy, I don’t know what to do. I’m in danger. I fear for my life and the life of my child, and I don’t know what to do!”

  “Your life? Not...” His tone became ominous. “Not Debenham. He hasn’t hurt you? Threatened you? Dear God!”

  Araminta stopped and raised her tear-filled gaze to look at Lord Ludbridge, whose outrage was just what she’d hoped for. “He’s not exactly kind but no, he hasn’t hurt me,” she said brokenly. “It’s just that I heard a terrible story not long ago. About...”

  When she couldn’t go on, Lord Ludbridge strode forward and cupped her face. “Araminta, you must tell me. Perhaps I can help you. You know I’d do anything.”

  She gripped his hands and looked searchingly at him. “Would you, Teddy? Would you really help me? Can I truly believe that?”

  “You must know it’s true, dear heart. Whatever it is that I can do to stop your tears, I would do it gladly, if it were only within my power.”

  “But it is within your power, Teddy, it is! If you can show me that I have your heart and your loyalty, I would do anything to show my gratitude.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kitty felt ebullient as she returned to her charming new lodgings that eveni
ng. Minna, the maid who worked as a parlormaid and her personal maid, had turned back the bedcovers and arranged flowers in all the rooms, according to Kitty’s instructions, and was now belowstairs, assisted by a young girl who did the heavy work.

  Knowing how Nash liked to find her always ready to welcome him, Kitty changed into a white, sprigged muslin gown, and let down her hair before taking an apple and a good book to her bed.

  It wasn’t late, but this was where Nash enjoyed spending the most time.

  Half an hour later, she was disappointed when he arrived in the midst of the most exciting love scene in her Sir Walter Scott novel, but her smile of pleasure came readily as she put it down, putting out her arms as he strode across the room.

  “Kitty, my darling, you are a picture! Talking of which, I want to hear all about your sitting. But later.” With his usual enthusiasm, he was divesting himself of sundry pieces of clothing as he approached, discarding his coat, which fell into a heap upon the Aubusson carpet, to be followed by his waistcoat. Grunting as he fumbled to unwind his cravat, he finally tossed the length of snowy linen to the floor, desire radiating from the depths of his roiling eyes.

  “Oh Nash, I learned something that made me so happy—”

  “You can tell me later, my sweet.” He shrugged off his shirt, then set to work on the buttons of his trousers after kicking off his Hessians. Nash was an early adopter of the latest fashions, and for a moment Kitty was reminded of Mr. Lamont. Except that Mr. Lamont was clearly a popinjay who took fashion to extreme, whereas Nash had consummate style and finesse, which he immediately displayed as, naked, he slid into the bed beside her and began to stroke her flanks, his hand stealing up beneath her skirts while his other worked at the buttons at the back of her gown so he could remove her gown and then her petticoat and stays.

  Kitty wriggled happily into his embrace and kissed him on the mouth, sighing as he cupped her mound and gently traced circles around her nipples. “Ah, but you make me so happy.”

  And it was true. While she felt he loved her, going to such constant lengths over the past weeks to prove it, she felt secure and safe. And very much loved. She’d never felt any of these things at home. Now she was mistress of her destiny and right now, wrapped in the arms of the most handsome and adoring gentleman any girl could wish to have for her lover.

  “And you satisfy me on every level, ma petite choux.”

  Kitty knew the reason he sounded so strangled was because his erection was hard and pressing into her thigh, and he couldn’t wait to enter her. Yet he was always assiduous in pleasuring her first. She had no other experience of men, but she’d heard whispers in the theater and knew that lovers who thought only of their own gratification, abounded. It was further proof of the fact Nash was the ideal mate. A man who was thoughtful and who respected her and her right to a happiness equal to his own.

  “I hope I always will,” she whispered, as he slid a finger inside her wetness then began to stroke the slick nub at her core. Her excitement notched up a level and she closed her eyes, reveling in the attention.

  “Just stay as beautiful and willing as you are now, and you’ll not have to worry about anything, my sweet.”

  Kitty’s eyes fluttered open, for she wasn’t sure if he’d said the words in jest. But his eyes were closed, and now he was rolling on top of her, positioning himself at her entrance before plunging in with a groan of satisfaction.

  And Kitty, who hadn’t quite reached the zenith of her own of excitement, felt it incumbent to gasp and enter into the act with equal enthusiasm, wishing he’d spent just a little longer pleasuring her. But she was not dissatisfied when it was all over, for Nash was gazing down at her with pure rapture in his face, and she surely must have misunderstood his meaning when he’d insinuated her security lay in retaining her looks.

  When it appeared he would go straight to sleep, Kitty gave him a little nudge.

  “Don’t you want to hear how my sitting went? How I found Mr. Lamont?”

  “Surely I’d be more interested in how he found you, my darling.” Nash gave a little laugh at his own joke, reaching up one arm to lazily brush aside a tendril of her hair. “Delightfully en dishabille, no doubt, but respectable enough. I hope he will convey you as I see you...three-quarters the innocent virgin and one-quarter femme fatale.” He curled his arm about her neck and brought her face down to his to murmur against her lips before he kissed her, “All in all, a delightful little enigma.”

  Kitty sighed with pleasure. “I learned something that pleased me very much.” When he didn’t ask her to elaborate, she went on anyway. “He told me he’d seen my sister.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister. Is she as beautiful as you?”

  “She’s considered beautiful, though she hides it. She’s a governess. I’m trying to find her as we’ve lost touch.”

  “I’d have thought she’d have already found you if she wanted to. Your name is in all the gossip columns; your description bandied about.”

  He obviously didn’t realize what a dismal reflection this was for Kitty to look at it in these terms, for while Nash drifted off into almost immediate slumber, Kitty found herself staring at the ceiling with the chill fear that Lissa was so shocked and ashamed of Kitty, she wanted nothing more to do with her.

  In fact, it was in a similar mood of reflection, that she was nudged while gazing at the wares of her favorite jewelers in Bond Street.

  “What a look of woe. That’s not the carefree Miss La Bijou I know. You’re not looking at betrothal rings, I trust?”

  The goldsmith had just pulled out a tray of ruby and sapphire rings for Kitty’s perusal, and Kitty had been studying a diamond and ruby studded affair with great interest.

  “Oh, Lord Silverton, I do feel full of woe,” said Kitty, glancing up and adding quickly at his quirked eyebrow, “and it has nothing to do with Lord Nash. He’s been charming and attentive—”

  “So you are looking at betrothal rings.”

  “Not yet,” she dropped her voice, “though it is my sincerest wish to be respectably placed in life, as you know. Lord Nash has showered me with gifts. His generosity is extraordinary—”

  “Meaning you can set yourself up for life if you are wise with your investments and do not squander what you are given.”

  Kitty waved a finger at him. “A salutary warning, Lord Silverton. I might have high hopes you think cannot be fulfilled, but I am not stupid. My brother is apprenticed to a goldsmith for a career in finance, and he will advise me.”

  “You are indeed a woman of mystery. A brother who inhabits the world of investment. A father who is a nobleman. What do they think of you, Miss La Bijou?”

  Kitty nodded to the goldsmith to put away his wares. “What do they think of me?” She repeated his question, sadly. “My sister, a governess, is ashamed. She has not contacted me, though she must know where to find me.”

  “And that is why you’re sad?”

  “And, as you know, my friend, Dorcas, is trapped in a horrible situation and won’t allow herself to be saved.”

  “So that compounds your dismal mood, of course.”

  “And Nash is going away for a few days, and I shall miss him.” She sighed and glanced up at the sun which was getting low. Soon she would have to make her way to the theater.

  “You’re welcome to visit me anytime you are feeling in need of company, Miss La Bijou.”

  Kitty gave him an ironic smile. “Nash didn’t like it one little bit when he learned I’d been staying with you. I had a difficult time persuading him that he had nothing to be jealous about.”

  Silverton pretended he’d just received a blow to the solar plexus. “That is not something I like to hear.”

  Kitty giggled. “You’re vastly entertaining, my Lord, and I enjoyed our cribbage evenings enormously, but I’m not going to allow myself to fall in love with you.”

  “So you think that could be possible?” He tilted his head and looked interested.

  Kit
ty shrugged then relaxed with a smile. “Not when I know Lord Nash is going to realize he needs a viscountess with all the attributes I possess. That—you say—is not possible, Lord Silverton, but I shall prove you wrong. And now I really must go.”

  “Well, Miss La Bijou, just remember my door is always open to you, and should you find the ennui overwhelming while Nash is gone, I’ll ensure the cribbage table is ready in front of the fire so we can take up where we left off. How’s that for a hospitable offer?”

  “Thank you, Lord Silverton. It is indeed.”

  Kitty gave him a little wave as she said farewell, her mood well and truly brighter since their encounter. If there was one thing for which Lord Silverton could be relied upon, it was to make feel her happier.

  ***

  Silverton’s mood, too, was vastly brighter for the encounter when he left the jewelers and returned home to change.

  Kitty did strange things to him. She filled him with frustration for her stubborn insistence that she knew how to get what she wanted out of life, but with enormous admiration for the fact she refused to allow herself to be downcast for long after any setback.

  Most of all, she unleashed a tremendous feeling of protectiveness, which left him being the one frustrated for, as her friend only—and one whose advice she, more often than not, chose to ignore—he was no position to keep watch over her and safeguard her concerns as he would like.