Nicola Cornick

by The Dukes Mistress

  And he did not intend to allow her to leave the ball without confronting her.

  He stalked to the hall. At first he did not see her among the guests who had also decided to escape the hot, crowded ballroom. Then he spotted her. She stood near a long window, partially hidden by a statue, her back to him. She was alone. Despite his desire to remain detached, his pulse quickened as he approached her.

  She seemed to be staring out the window and did not turn until he was right behind her. She spun around, almost running into him, then she took a step back and paled, her eyes widened with shock.

  ‘Hello, Belle,’ he said softly.

  ‘I…’ She stared at him as if he were a ghost.

  He allowed his gaze to wander over her face. ‘I had heard you were in London, and had hoped I might see you this evening. And here you are, nearly throwing yourself into my arms. Dare I hope that means you are pleased to see me?’

  She might have flinched, but he could not be certain. Her eyes were fixed on his face. ‘I cannot imagine why you would want to see me.’

  ‘Can’t you? You are still the most beautiful woman I know. And you owe me a debt.’

  She flushed, something that surprised him, but then she was a consummate actress. This time he insolently ran his eyes over her, allowing his gaze to linger on the creamy flesh above her modest bodice. Desire, hard and swift, shot through him. Hell. After all this time, he should feel nothing for her but contempt.

  Worse, he did not lie. Despite the unbecoming grey gown she wore, she was even more beautiful at five and twenty than she had been at two and twenty. Her oval face with its slightly patrician nose, and her rosebud mouth and expressive hazel eyes had only improved with maturity. She still reminded him of a Madonna, a lovely, untouchable virgin, but now he knew what lay beneath that lovely façade.

  ‘A debt? Do you mean the two thousand pounds?’ The flush on her face made her look vulnerable. ‘I want to repay it but I cannot do so all at once.’

  He shrugged. ‘Two thousand pounds is mere pin money to me. No, I want something else.’

  ‘What is it? I have only the money my grandmother left me. And her townhouse, which is not very grand. That is all I can give you.’

  ‘Not quite all.’ He kept his gaze on her face. ‘If you recall, I bought your company for two thousand pounds. That is what you owe me.’

  She paled so much he thought she was about to swoon. She backed away as if she feared he planned to ravish her on the spot. ‘But I thought… You cannot possibly want my company! I would give you anything but that.’

  ‘I do not want anything else.’

  She stared at him, a flash of anger in her eyes. ‘I would rather die than consider such a thing! I did not make that wager, my husband did. I went with you because I had no alternative.’

  ‘Didn’t you? If I recall, your choice was to deliberately participate in a scheme to bring about my demise. Do you deny that you told me that it was a trap?’

  ‘No, but Lucien left me no choice. He would have shot you on the spot if I did not,’ she said quietly.

  For an insane moment, he almost believed her. But then he recalled how she had repulsed him when he said he loved her. Nor had she once, in the aftermath of the duel, made any attempt to deny the lies her husband had spread about his cheating at the card game. All the bitterness and anger rose up again.

  He smiled coldly. ‘Very convenient of you to cast the blame on your husband, particularly since he is dead. The debts may have been his, but they now are yours. I want to collect what you owe me. I would prefer to continue this conversation in private, however.’

  ‘And I do not want to continue the conversation at all.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I will not deny we…I did you a great wrong. You do not know how many times I wished it had all been different. But I will not do this!’

  ‘No? I have no doubt I can change your mind.’

  ‘You never will.’ She started to move past him. ‘If you will please allow me to pass. I must return to the ballroom. I have been gone far too long. They will notice.’

  ‘Perhaps you will honour me with a dance.’

  ‘I never dance with anyone. There would be talk.’

  ‘That matters little to me. I have no doubt I would survive a dance with you.’

  She bit her lip. ‘But I will not. My sister-in-law is here. This is her first Season and I cannot do anything that will ruin her chances. She is an innocent child and does not deserve to be caught up in this. None of this is her doing.’

  ‘No? It is a pity you did not think of these things three years ago.’ He stepped aside. ‘But I will have my payment.’ He did not give her a chance to reply but turned and walked away. But not before he saw the stricken look on her face. He shoved down the twinge of conscience that smote him and cursed himself for still wanting to think her innocent. He had no intention of allowing anything to get in the way of his revenge.

  Belle returned to the ballroom, and paused inside the double doors, her breathing hard almost as if she had been running. Which she had been for all purposes.

  She forced herself to take a breath. She could not let anyone see how agitated she was. It would not be at all in keeping with the cool, remote persona she had cultivated since Lucien’s death.

  But one encounter had managed to strip that coolness away and she had felt as exposed as she had that horrible night. Why ever had she left the ballroom? She should have suspected he would follow her. Despite her best efforts to remain invisible, he had spotted her within a half-hour of his arrival. More than once she had found his cold gaze on her and she knew that a confrontation was inevitable. Perhaps by leaving the ballroom she had hoped it would force his hand and she would know what he wanted.

  And now she did.

  He wanted her.

  She felt almost sick at the thought. He had a ruthlessness about him that had not been there before and she knew he would grant her no mercy. There had been nothing of the charming young man she had known in his hard, handsome face. But then she had watched that young man disappear three years ago. If he had ever existed.

  Belle realised the music had stopped and the dancers were dispersing. She looked around and saw Chloe, standing near the side of the ballroom with her friend, Serena, and Serena’s mother, Mrs Hurst. She looked so normal that Belle thought that perhaps the whole scene had merely been a bad dream. She made her way to Chloe’s side and the young girl looked over, her lovely oval face lit with a smile. ‘Where were you? Arthur was looking for you. He seemed quite out of sorts that you had left the ballroom.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I suggested that perhaps you had an assignation and he looked quite apoplectic. Mama was looking for you also. She also seemed somewhat distressed.’ Chloe peered more closely at Belle. ‘Are you well? You look rather peculiar.’

  ‘It is the heat.’ She managed a smile. ‘I merely left the ballroom for a few moments in hopes it would be cooler in the hall.’

  ‘If that is all,’ Chloe said. Her attention was caught by Serena who wanted to point out a particularly amazing headdress worn by one of the dowagers.

  Mrs Hurst moved to Belle’s side and began to talk about the shocking expense of living in London. Belle half-listened to her light chatter, but she felt distracted, waiting for Westmore to appear. Had he entered the ballroom or was he still in the hall or perhaps the card room? But surely there was nothing he could do in the middle of a ball.

  Serena’s hand was solicited for the next dance and Mrs Hurst moved off. Maria bustled up to them a few minutes later. ‘Here you are my love, thank goodness.’ Her voice was quite agitated. ‘I saw you leave and then he left just after you and I feared he had followed you. Oh, how can he be here, so haughty and proud, as if he had never done such a despicable thing! And everyone thinks he is a hero!’

  Guilt shot through Belle as it always did when Maria spoke of Justin in such terms. No matter what she felt about Justin, Lucien had cruelly used him.

  ‘But he did save his
superior officer’s life at Waterloo and if the tales are to believed, in a most heroic fashion,’ she said lightly. ‘Would you like a lemonade? I would be happy to fetch one for you.’

  As Belle had hoped, Maria was distracted. ‘How kind you are. A lemonade would be just the thing but I do hope it is not too strong. Perhaps you could add a little water if it appears to be so.’

  ‘Of course.’ She started to move away and then she saw Lady Hartford coming towards them. To her horror, she saw Justin was with her.

  She froze. At the same time she heard Maria gasp. Dear lord. Surely he could not be planning to speak to them!

  But he was. Lady Hartford stopped in front of them, the smile on her face a trifle strained. Maria’s face was rigid with shock and disapproval. Belle prayed she would not do or say anything to create a scene.

  Lady Hartford cleared her throat. ‘Maria, his Grace wishes to be presented to you and Lady Chloe.’ She cast Belle a nervous glance. ‘I believe you have made his acquaintance, Lady Milborne.’

  ‘Yes, we are acquainted,’ Belle said. ‘Good evening, your Grace.’ She kept her voice as even as possible despite the knot in her stomach.

  ‘Good evening, Lady Milborne.’ His voice was polite, but the sardonic gleam in his eye filled her with apprehension. She had done him a terrible wrong and she could not fault him for being angry, but why must he throw down the gauntlet so publicly?

  For he would have to be supremely insensitive not to realise they were the centre of attention as Lady Hartford performed the introductions. Maria barely held out her hand, her lips set in tight lines as he bowed over it. She snatched it away as soon as he released her as if she had just touched something nasty. Chloe greeted him properly, her expression hard to read.

  At least no one had said anything amiss. If only Westmore would go away. But he still held Chloe’s hand. ‘Will you do me the honour of standing up with me for the next dance, Lady Chloe?’

  Chloe stared at him. Belle felt almost light-headed and even Lady Hartford appeared stunned. Maria gasped. ‘Most certainly n—’

  Chloe recovered first. ‘I would like to, Mama.’ She gave Belle an imploring look.

  ‘I am certain it would be a great honour.’ Belle hardly knew what she said. She had never expected him to ask Chloe for a dance, but to refuse him would only cause gossip, something Chloe seemed to recognise. She attempted a reassuring smile. ‘Shall I fetch the lemonade you wanted, Maria?’

  ‘I…’ Maria’s face had taken on a most alarming colour and, for a moment, Belle feared she was about to swoon. She caught Maria’s arm. ‘Perhaps you should sit.’

  ‘An excellent notion,’ Lady Hartford said. Her colour was almost as high as Maria’s.

  Belle glared at Justin, angry he was causing so much distress. He met her eyes, an expression crossing his face she could not fathom and then he yanked his gaze back to Chloe. ‘Lady Chloe, should we join the next set?’ He held out his arm.

  ‘If you please.’ Chloe laid her gloved hand on his arm, her face still worried, but she went with him.

  Belle watched them for a moment, Chloe looking young and vulnerable next to his dark, forceful figure. If only she could march up to him and demand he release Chloe instantly, but that would only cause the sort of scene she wanted to avoid. Maria’s soft moan forced her attention back to her mother-in-law.

  She and Lady Hartford helped Maria to a place near the wall and a footman quickly procured a chair before he was sent off for a glass of watery lemonade. Belle pulled out the smelling salts Maria kept in her reticule but Maria waved them away. Her normal colour was starting to return and she sat more stiffly upright. Several of her friends had by this time gathered to offer their assistance and she managed a weak smile. ‘I am quite recovered. It was only the shock of… My love—’ she looked at Belle ‘—you will see to Chloe, if you please.’

  ‘Yes.’ Belle hastened away, glad to leave the circle of chattering women.

  Arthur joined Belle just as she reached the side of the ballroom. ‘Is it true Westmore has asked Chloe to stand up with him?’ he demanded.

  ‘Yes, unfortunately.’

  ‘Unfortunately? Not at all, my dear, not at all.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Having Westmore’s attentions will only serve to secure her place in society. It is quite fortunate.’

  ‘He has distressed Maria no end by doing so. She nearly swooned and I could clearly see Chloe was equally distressed. I cannot imagine how you consider it a good thing!’

  He looked down his thin nose at her. ‘I had hoped that, after all this time, you would have forgotten the affair. Apparently Westmore has. And may I remind you, he is a duke and very powerful, so I trust you will do nothing to provoke him.’

  It was all she could do to hold her tongue. She turned towards the dancers and looked for Chloe and Justin. They were not hard to find. Justin could not be considered exceptionally tall, but his dark head and arrogant grace stood out. She watched as he and Chloe came together. He said something to Chloe and she shook her head, a slight smile on her face. At least he was not doing anything to distress her, thank goodness, but even that did not provide much reassurance. She had no idea why he had sought out her sister-in-law and none of the suspicions whirling in her head gave her the least comfort. Had he meant to punish her for refusing him by approaching Chloe? A shiver darted through her. She knew without a doubt he was not about to let things rest.

  She felt overwhelming relief when the music finally stopped. She waited while Justin tucked Chloe’s hand beneath his and brought her to their side. Arthur pasted a smile to his face. ‘Good evening, Westmore. We are most honoured by the compliment you paid my ward by asking her to stand up with you.’

  Justin released Chloe’s hand and glanced at Belle. ‘And is Lady Milborne honoured as well?’

  Arthur looked at her, his expression daring her to disagree. ‘Most certainly Lady Milborne is honoured. Quite honoured, in fact.’

  ‘Is she?’ A slight smile touched Justin’s mouth. ‘I am delighted to know that.’ He turned back to Chloe. The smile at his lips was full of charm. ‘Good evening, Lady Chloe. I hope you will stand up with me again.’ He inclined his head towards Arthur and Belle. ‘Ralston, Lady Milborne.’ He walked off.

  Belle was too furious to speak. Chloe’s face was anxious. ‘Is Mama well?’

  ‘I think so. When I left her, she was drinking lemonade. She refused her smelling salts.’

  Chloe sighed. ‘Then it wasn’t so bad.’

  ‘You should be grateful Westmore stood up with you. As should Maria,’ Arthur said. ‘I will talk to her and make certain she understands that.’ He stalked off before she could say a thing and Belle hoped he was not planning to accost Maria just now.

  She linked her arm through Chloe’s. ‘I must bring you back to your mama. She will want to know you are unharmed. He did not say anything untoward to you, did he?’

  ‘Oh, not! He was really quite…quite nice,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Oh, Belle I did not mean to overset her but I feared if I did not stand up with him, it would result in a horrid scene. I pray you will not think too badly of me.’

  She looked at Chloe’s sweet face and felt the surge of love she always did for her. ‘I would never think badly of you for anything you did. You were quite right to avoid a scene. It is exactly what I would have advised.’

  ‘I hope so.’ Chloe’s smile was relieved.

  Belle returned her smile, not wanting Chloe to sense her distress.

  But later that night, in the quiet of her bedchamber, she could not suppress the growing fear that Justin meant to use any means possible to extract payment from her. Including Chloe. Because of Lucien and because of her, he had been banished from England. And from his family. He may have acted despicably in wagering for her, but she had no doubt he had cared deeply for his family.

  She sat down on her bed. Tonight’s encounter had brought up memories she had thought buried. The warmth she had found in his presence. The way his ey
es lit with laughter when he had teased her. Sitting with him in the secluded garden at Greystone and watching his face as he described the house that his father had just granted him for his twenty-second birthday. It was perched on a cliff in Devon, overlooking the sea, and at various times in its history had been used by smugglers. She couldn’t think of anything more romantic and for a moment, as he told her of his plans for the house, she had allowed herself to imagine being there with him.

  How naïve she had been. Perhaps he had believed himself in love with her. Or confused the emotion with lust. She had almost believed his declaration of love before Lucien had burst in.

  Lucien had entertained no doubts Justin had a tendre for her. During the time between the duel and his death he had taunted her with it often. ‘How foolish of Wroth to fall in love with you. I would not have thought him capable of such weakness. But then it provided me with the perfect weapon to use against him. He would have gone to any lengths to save you.’

  She set down the basin she carried on the table next to his bed. She had come to change the dressings on his arm. The wound in his shoulder had never properly healed and the physician had been forced to drain it more than once. Despite his increasing weakness, Lucien was not so ill he was unable to torment her. He insisted that only she should nurse him and refused to allow anyone else to attend him, including Maria. ‘He was not in love with me,’ she said.

  Lucien laughed softly. ‘Certainly not when he realised the woman he adored had planned to kill him. I’ve no doubt he quite hates you.’

  She kept her gaze on the wash basin, not wanting him to see how his words hurt her. Had Justin cared for her at all, or had it merely been an act, as he had claimed? A means to bed her in any way he could? Or had her betrayal prompted his cruel words?