“Tell them the rest, Mr. Radley, so this can come to an end,” Bella urged.
“The Duke of Claremont was a vile man. He used everyone that came within his circle, but there was only one who mattered to me enough to seek revenge.” Radley glanced at Bella, and Rhys sensed he’d already divulged something to her. “My sister.”
Bella nudged Rhys but he still didn’t understand.
“Mrs. Turner,” she whispered to him.
The woman his father had discarded in a town house in Gordon Square.
“Belinda was just widowed when he set his sights on her,” Radley spit out. “Thought she was lucky to catch a duke’s eye. Thought the bastard loved her.”
Just as he had when meeting the man’s sister, Rhys felt guilt. Disgust at his father’s behavior, and guilt for all the ways he’d become like him.
“I regret whatever indignities your sister suffered at my father’s hands.” He could muster a modicum of sympathy for the man, but not enough. He wanted Bella away from here and for Macadams to apply the law however Radley deserved.
Rhys turned his back on the man and reached for Bella.
“You’re not much better than him, Claremont. Apple never falls far, does it? You needn’t put on high-and-mighty airs with me.”
Bella ignored Rhys’s outstretched hand and kept her gaze fixed on Radley.
“Whatever the late duke did, it doesn’t justify your theft, sir.” Bella’s tone somehow managed understanding and brutal honesty.
“He and his father and all their ilk make more money than they know what to do with,” he protested. “And this one piles on even more at his Den of Dukes, or whatever they call themselves.”
“They invest in people and their ideas,” Bella said defensively.
“We needn’t do this, Bella,” Rhys told her.
“I’m more than grateful for your assistance, Your Grace,” Macadams told them by way of dismissal. “I’ll see to Mr. Radley now.”
Rhys nodded at the man and took Bella’s hand. He was relieved when she clasped his tightly and started with him toward the door. Halfway there, Rhys stopped and turned back to Macadams.
“It wasn’t me, Detective.”
“Pardon, Your Grace?”
“Your thanks should go to my betrothed. It was Miss Prescott who discovered the clue that led us to Radley, and she was the one who insisted we pursue it.”
Macadams worked his jaw for a moment before finally shifting his gaze to Bella. “Indebted to you, Miss Prescott. Well done,” he told her with a begrudging tightness in his tone.
“You’re welcome, Inspector.” Bella beamed at him, despite his gruff demeanor.
Rhys didn’t breathe easily until he got her outside, away from Radley’s wrath and whatever danger the man might pose.
“I echo the inspector. Well done, Bella.”
As soon as they reached the pavement, she released his hand and stepped away from him.
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
She let out a shaky exhale before turning to face him. “That’s one more part of our agreement resolved.”
“One part, yes.”
“But all of it is coming together. We’ve found Radley. Meg is well on her way to starting her Season. Mama and Papa will soon set sail for Greece.” She took a step closer but he couldn’t read her expression. “Don’t you see? Soon we’ll be able to end the charade.”
“You know it’s more than that.” He’d said the words but he hadn’t laid out his thoughts, his desires. “The engagement may have begun as a falsehood but what I feel for you isn’t false.” He took a deep breath and ignored the way his heartbeat seemed to stall in his chest. “Perhaps the engagement shouldn’t be either.”
“No.” Bella said the word with such vehemence, Rhys wondered if she’d misunderstood him.
He hadn’t actually asked the question, but she seemed terrified he would.
“Please don’t. Not now. Not like this.”
Rhys raked a hand through his hair. Bella was the brightest woman he’d ever known and the most desirable. But she was also the most maddening.
“Five other men have had the opportunity to ask. Perhaps you should allow me to get the words out too.”
Was this not what she wanted? Their feelings were mutual. He saw it in her eyes. Felt it in how her body responded to his. He still wasn’t sure he could ever deserve her, but he wanted to try.
Bella walked away from him, pacing down the pavement, then turned back and approached until they were almost toe to toe. It was odd for her to be the one pacing, unable to remain calm, while he stood still. Waiting.
Somewhere along the way, the tables had turned.
“We should head back to the Tremaynes.” Her voice held that no-nonsense quality he usually loved. “They’re expecting us for luncheon.”
“Very well.” He wanted to push, to break through the cool facade she wore as well as he wore his jovial one. But Bella was stubborn, and he had no wish for a battle.
She walked with him to the carriage and let him help her inside. He touched her only as long as necessary and didn’t linger as he’d done the past few days. When they were seated on opposite benches, he turned his head toward one window and she focused her gaze out the other.
For the short journey, they said nothing.
It was as if the past days had been nothing more than a delicious dream and they were back where they’d started, glaring at one another across the length of the Hillcrest billiard room.
He’d never had to woo or seduce a woman in any but the most carnal of ways. Bella was worth the effort to try for more.
Trouble was, he had no real idea of how to begin.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bella knew by all the rules of propriety, she was being an awful guest.
Rather than join the others at Tremayne House for luncheon, she asked a servant to give her excuses and remained in her room, combing the pages of her manuscript for anything she might improve.
The puzzles and problems didn’t absorb her as they usually did. And of course, she knew why. She had a much greater conundrum to solve.
One that involved a man who made her breathless every time he touched her. One that made her heart race anytime she let herself contemplate the future, because every possibility frightened her. She couldn’t imagine a life with Rhys, and yet she could no longer think of one without him.
It was why she’d begged off lunch. He would be there with that searching blue gaze of his, and she feared the next time they were alone together he’d ask the question she’d once longed to hear.
But that was the past, and this wasn’t foolish infatuation. Her heart was torn and her head led her down winding paths of worry. If he asked, she still didn’t know what her answer should be.
Rising from the settee in her guest suite, she stretched to ease the knots in her back. Glancing at the clock, she wondered if it was too late to join the luncheon.
Laughter filtered up from downstairs intermittently. The event was a larger affair than she’d imagined. She’d counted at least a dozen guests as she’d watched from her window when carriages arrived.
After nearly quarter of an hour’s absence, she wondered why Rhys hadn’t come up to find her and ask why she wasn’t in attendance.
Pressing a hand to her middle, she drew in a deep breath. Then she turned to the mirror over the mantel and tucked a few strands of hair into pins to straighten her coiffure.
Perhaps she would go.
She started for the door and stopped when someone knocked from the other side.
“Rhys.”
But when she swung the door open, it was the Duchess of Tremayne smiling at her from across the threshold.
“I wanted to make sure you were well.” The duchess stepped inside and cast a glance at the pages of Bella’s manuscript spread across a table. “That looks intriguing.”
“I’m working on a book. I hope to find a publisher.” Bella thought the du
chess might appreciate her puzzles. Perhaps one day she could present her with a copy.
“We have a published author attending the luncheon.” The duchess wore a warm cajoling smile. “If you come down, I’ll introduce you.”
Bella grinned. “I was actually just on my way.”
“Excellent.” The duchess pressed her hands together and gave a little clap of victory. “We’ve yet to eat. Still mingling and conversing. I’ve saved your spot at the table across from your betrothed.”
“Wonderful.” Bella hoped her anxiousness didn’t show.
As the duchess led her downstairs, Bella spotted Meg, who waved at her and came to meet her at the bottom of the staircase.
“I’m so glad you’ve decided to join us, after all.” She cast a gaze toward the Tremaynes’ enormous drawing room. “There are very few people here I know and I have no idea where Rhys has disappeared to.”
“Has he disappeared?”
Meg sipped at a glass of what looked like punch. “He knows so many people in London. I think he drifted off to speak with a few.”
Bella stepped into the drawing room and Meg was right. Rhys was nowhere to be seen. “Has the party spread to other rooms?”
Meg shrugged.
“I’m going to look for him.” Bella cast the girl a look, half expecting her to offer to help in the search.
“Perhaps I’ll stay put. The duchess said I should mingle.”
Bella smiled. “Then you should.”
Tremayne House was a surprisingly cavernous town house and designed in an unusual style, with halls jutting off from the main one and doorways nestled in corners. Most doors were closed, but a few were cracked open and Bella wondered which rooms she should explore or avoid.
Voices and laughter emerged from a few. Two men seemed to be bickering over politics in one. A few ladies whispered and snickered as if sharing gossip in another. And at the far end of the hall, Bella heard a lady’s throaty chuckle and a name that set her nerves on edge.
“Claremont, how dare you?”
Bella hesitated with her palm on the half-open door. Her mind went straight to her worst fears. She had moved so far beyond that day that had haunted her for so long. She didn’t want to revisit that pain.
But she had to know.
“Rhys?” She stepped inside and the room was so dim she struggled to make out anything or anyone.
Then two shapes came into view, lit by a low-burning candle sconce on the far wall. Rhys stood with his back against a bookcase, and a woman in sapphire blue stood beside him.
He smiled as soon as he noticed her arrival. “I thought you weren’t coming down.” He came forward and lifted a hand as if to reach for her.
“I changed my mind.” Bella didn’t take his offered hand. She wasn’t sure what she’d walked into.
His frown deepened. “I’m glad you did.”
“Are you?” Bella gazed past him at the woman still hovering near the bookcase.
She was staring back, watching her interactions with Rhys with interest. Then she stepped forward.
“This must be your fiancée. Won’t you introduce us, Claremont?”
“Miss Jane Harrington.” Rhys gestured at the young lady but kept his gaze fixed on Bella’s. “Miss Arabella Prescott. My betrothed.”
“I’ve heard of you, Miss Prescott.”
“Have you?” Bella couldn’t recall if she’d ever met the young woman, but she was far more interested in speaking to Rhys than becoming acquainted with her.
“You’ve rejected a great many suitors.” She lifted the fan strung around her wrist and tapped Rhys on the arm. “She waited a long while for you, Claremont. I do hope you make it worth her while.”
“Would you excuse us, Jane?”
Rhys still hadn’t cast the young lady a glance since Bella entered the room, but she took the hint and made her way out.
When Miss Harrington was gone, Rhys watched her warily. Bella wasn’t sure if she should begin, but she also wasn’t entirely certain of what she wished to say.
Rhys broke the silence. “I know my reputation and what you must fear. But whatever you suspect that was, I promise you it wasn’t that. Miss Harrington is the sister of a gent I knew at university.”
Bella hated the emotions clawing inside her. Jealousy and uncertainty. She realized in that moment that she had come to trust him in the past days.
“You’re friends?”
“Not really.” He rushed to assure her, drawing a step closer. “We’re acquainted through her brother and she expressed surprise that a man of my . . . reputation had become betrothed.”
A chuckle burst from Bella’s lips.
He sighed and scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “Bella, I know your trust isn’t something I can demand. I must earn it and be patient as I do.”
“I have trusted you in the last few days.”
He swallowed hard and she suspected the same memories came to his mind that continually played in hers. Their lovemaking. Their laughter at Margate. Their growing closeness each day since he’d returned to Essex.
“But you have doubts,” he said with a sadness that made her heart ache. “They creep in, even when you don’t wish them to. And in a situation like this, when you find me with a stranger, how can I blame you for suspecting the worst?”
All of what he said was true. Doubts plagued her, even in the moments when she was happy and content in his arms. But the fear that she’d find him with another young lady in a hedge maze as she had so many years ago wasn’t what worried her. Her fear was more about her feelings than his trustworthiness.
She was afraid of losing herself again.
He turned away from her and stalked toward a window. Bracing a hand on the frame, he stared out on the fashionable square. “Perhaps we should end this arrangement as quickly as we’re able.”
“Is that what you want?” Bella held her breath.
He swung around to face her. “You know it’s bloody well not. You know what I want.”
He’d suggested they make their engagement real. Part of her wanted that too. “Tell me what you want, Rhys.”
Perhaps she was ready for the question. But rather than ask, he stalked toward her, cupped her face in his palm, and kissed her.
Bella clutched at his shirtfront and pulled him closer. It had only been hours since they’d been this close but somehow, she’d missed it. Missed his heat and unique scent and the way she felt when his body was against hers.
He lifted his head and told her breathlessly, “Showing you seemed the superior option, but I’m willing to tell you too.” He slid a finger under her chin and tipped her head so that his gaze locked on hers. “I want to be yours, Arry, and I want you to be mine. Marry me.”
Those two words. She’d longed to hear them from him for so long.
“Good thing you two are engaged,” the Duchess of Tremayne called from the doorway.
Rhys let out a frustrated sigh.
“I only came to tell you that luncheon will be served in ten minutes. Everyone’s gathering in the dining room.”
“Thank you,” Rhys bit out, and then strode forward to close the door when their hostess departed.
Bella stood frozen. The duchess’s interruption had broken the moment and rather than savor Rhys’s proposal, all Bella could think of was the past.
“You needn’t give me an answer now,” he told her quietly.
“I’ve imagined hearing you say those words. For years, it was all I wanted.” Swallowing against the pain of those memories, she took a long breath. “That day of the garden party I wanted to hear those words from you.”
“I know.”
“You knew?” Bella turned back to find him lingering near the door, his hand still on the latch.
“I suspected. I knew you thought too highly of me.”
Bella bit her lip and struggled to keep the memories where they belonged. In the past.
“We needn’t revisit this again.”
�
�When you didn’t offer for me, it hurt. Deeply.”
“I’m sorry.” There was such tenderness in his gaze. Such regret. She knew his apology was sincere.
He started toward her and Bella lifted a hand. “I know you are. But, you see, it didn’t end there. You were all I thought about for months. I struggled to sleep or focus. Nothing could catch my interest and no one else was ever going to win my heart because I’d already given it to you. Everyone else seemed lackluster in comparison.”
Bella couldn’t help but smile at that final sentiment. Every word was still true.
His eyes lit with hopefulness. “Is this your way of accepting my proposal?”
Yes was on the tip of her tongue. It was what her heart wanted, but her head rang with warning bells. She’d walked into the room fearing the worst of him, fearing that she would be crushed again. He’d proven her fears to be unfounded.
Perhaps she could eventually trust him completely, but the harder truth was that she didn’t trust herself. She couldn’t marry him if it meant she was always going to be afraid of being heartbroken again.
A gong sounded in the hallway. The signal that luncheon was served.
“We should join the others,” Bella said as she made her way over to where he stood near the door.
“I need to know if you can ever trust me again, Bella. You know my feelings. My desires. I’ve asked you the question.” His gaze held a note of sadness.
Bella swallowed hard and fought back the sting of tears. “I don’t have an answer.”
She didn’t want to say no but the notion of telling him yes terrified her.
Rhys stepped toward the door and turned back, waiting until she joined him at the threshold. “You’re worth waiting for,” he told her, his voice raw, “but I can’t wait forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Three weeks later
After years of attending balls, Bella had developed three strategies.
First, immediately discover a quiet nook for retreat. Second, always take something to read or a notebook to scribble in. Third, avoid dancing if at all possible.
She’d never imagined she’d have to employ her strategies again after her fourth Season and yet here she stood in a crowded ballroom, this time as a chaperone to her cousin rather than as a debutante.
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