Nicola Cornick

by The Dukes Mistress

  ‘Yes.’ She swallowed. ‘I usually do not feel very well when I first awake. Sometimes I feel better after I eat.’

  ‘I will send for some food.’ He started to rise.

  She caught his arm. ‘No, please do not. I can wait until we breakfast. I usually have only toast. I should be fine if I sit here for a little bit before I get out of bed.’

  He gently removed her hand from his arm and stood. ‘There is no reason why you cannot have toast now.’ His brow rose at her expression. ‘It is no use arguing with me because I’ve no intention of changing my mind. And when the toast arrives you will eat it if I must force it down you.’

  She stared at him and, to his surprise, nodded. And then she looked away. He had the most disconcerting notion she was fighting back tears. He restrained the impulse to go to her because he suspected she would only repudiate him. Instead, he left the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  They reached Westmore House in the early evening. Belle had found if she curled up in the corner of the carriage and kept her eyes closed, the movement was not so bad. She actually fell asleep once and, when she awoke, discovered that Justin had covered her with a rug.

  She wanted to thank him for the kindness but he had such a remote expression that the words would not come. So, she said nothing.

  Westmore House was an imposing red-bricked building set at the top of a small rise and surrounded by a vast green lawn. The journey up the long, winding drive surrounded by neatly trimmed yews on either side seemed to last forever before the carriage finally halted in front of the entrance.

  Justin helped her from the carriage and up the steps of the house. An elderly butler opened the door. ‘Your Grace, we did not…’ He cleared his throat. ‘Welcome home, your Grace.’ His gaze rested on Belle for a moment before returning to Justin.

  ‘You may congratulate me. Lady Milborne has agreed to be my wife.’

  Surprise crossed his rather austere face and then he smiled. ‘Congratulations, your Grace.’ He turned to Belle. ‘May I offer you my felicitations as well, my lady?’ His manner was a little more restrained.

  It dawned on her that he saw her as the future Duchess. She fought back her sudden panic at the thought and managed a smile. ‘Thank you.’

  Other servants had appeared to welcome Justin home. As he had with his butler, he informed them Belle was to be his wife. Their expressions were a mixture of surprise and curiosity and by the time Belle was shown to her room by the housekeeper, Mrs Benton, she was exhausted from smiling. She was shown to a spacious bedchamber and, after Mrs Benton left, a maid came and helped her out of her dusty travelling clothes and into her nightrail, and then she was alone.

  She sat on the edge of the bed. Everything seemed completely unreal. She was not on a packet crossing the channel, she was in Justin’s house in Kent. Their child would not be born among strangers but among family.

  The knock startled her and then Justin entered. Her heart slammed against her chest, and her eyes went to his face, but the cool expression on his face told her he was not here because he wished to be.

  ‘May I speak to you for a moment?’ he asked politely.

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  He moved to the side of the bed. ‘I will leave for London to procure the licence tomorrow. We will marry the day after I return. I will also send word to your mother and sister-in-law that you are here and to Marguerite as well.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She pushed down the pit of despair that was growing in her. He was so impersonal that she knew he had not forgiven her.

  ‘If you need anything you may apply to me or to my housekeeper.’

  ‘You are very kind.’

  He frowned a little. ‘Not at all. This will be your home.’

  Her home. Any words she might have said stuck in her throat and she could only nod. He still looked at her. ‘I will also send for the local surgeon tomorrow.’

  ‘Is that necessary? Nothing has changed and Mr Carver did not find anything out of the ordinary.’

  ‘None the less, I would like Mr Thomas to see you. I would like his opinion as well.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Is there anything you need?’

  ‘No. I am very comfortable.’

  ‘Then I will bid you goodnight. I will leave early so I possibly will not see you before I go.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ she whispered.

  After he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him, she climbed beneath the covers. He was concerned about the babe and she was grateful. But, of course, he would be. She wondered if Lucien would have been equally solicitous and thought he might. He had wanted an heir so desperately that he would have done anything to ensure the child would be born healthy.

  He would have cared about her health, but only because of the child. Rather like a prize mare. And when she proved to have no value, he did not hesitate to discard her.

  She knew Justin was not so callous and he would never treat her cruelly, but she had no doubt that the child would always be his first concern. Which was, of course, how it should be.

  But she could not quite quell the dart of envy that pierced her. She felt instantly ashamed. For how could she possibly be envious of her own child?

  Belle wandered to the window that faced the drive. The day was overcast, but at least there was no rain. Justin was to return today. The thought filled her with a sort of nervous anticipation. She had been seen by Mr Thomas, whose opinion on her condition did not differ much from Mr Carver’s. She had rested and eaten and to her surprise found that her appetite had started to return and she did not feel quite so ill.

  She turned when she heard footsteps. Her pulse quickened and she stilled. But instead of Justin, Chloe appeared. ‘Belle!’ Chloe ran towards her.

  ‘Chloe! What are you doing here?’

  ‘Westmore told us you were to be married and he said we might travel back with him, so we are here!’

  ‘Maria as well?’

  ‘I am here as well.’ Maria appeared in the doorway, dressed in a grey travelling cape. She gave Belle a tremulous smile and Belle held out her arms.

  Justin watched the reunion from the door of the drawing room. The happiness on Belle’s face at seeing her family was evident. He only wished he was the recipient of the same welcome.

  She looked up and met his eyes. The smile left her face to be replaced by uncertainty. He inclined his head and then turned away, not wanting her to guess how much he wanted her. He had no intention of being vulnerable to her again.

  He found his butler at his elbow. ‘Your Grace, Lord Salcombe has arrived.’

  Brandt strode in, his boots and coat mud-spattered. ‘Is our aunt here?’ he demanded without preamble.

  ‘No.’ Justin frowned at his cousin’s expression. ‘Why?’

  ‘She has left London. I feared she still might decide to…er…disrupt your nuptials.’

  ‘How would she know?’

  Brandt’s brow rose. ‘The news is hardly a secret. Lady Ralston apparently told her nephew of the good news and he is not exactly the soul of discretion.’

  Justin cursed. He should have warned Lady Ralston to say nothing, but it had not occurred to him she would have time to send messages.

  A sliver of apprehension darted down his spine. He fought it down. What could his aunt possibly do? Belle was under his roof and she had no power to stop his marriage to her now.

  ‘You look lovely,’ Marguerite said. ‘See.’

  Belle turned to the looking glass. There had been no time to think of wedding clothes so she wore the pale peach gown she had worn to the opera. Her hair had been caught up in a chignon that fell in ringlets to her shoulders. A feeling of unreality stole over her. In less than an hour she would stand with Justin and take vows that would bind her to him for the rest of their lives.

  She fought the panic that threatened to swallow her. Marguerite’s pleased expression changed to concern. ‘Justin loves you, you must know that. Why else w
ould he have stopped you from leaving England?’

  Belle slowly looked at Marguerite. ‘You have not guessed?’ She bit her lip and knew she could not keep this from Marguerite. ‘I…I am with child. His child. That is why he stopped me.’

  Marguerite stared at her, her eyes round. ‘Oh, my dear!’ She pulled Belle to her. ‘How could I not have known! The signs…you must think I was blind…oh, Belle, why did you not tell me?’

  ‘I wanted to so very badly, but I did not know how it could be possible, and then I thought Justin was to marry Lady Clarissa—’ She stopped. ‘I still cannot believe it.’

  ‘And you think Justin is only marrying you because of the child.’

  ‘I cannot think why else. Oh, Marguerite, you cannot imagine how angry he was when he found me. I do not believe he can forgive me for running away.’

  ‘You must tell him you love him.’

  She was silent. How could she? If he hated her then it would only fill him with contempt. And she would be even more vulnerable.

  ‘Tonight,’ Marguerite said. She had a wicked smile on her face. ‘You may seduce him as well. Men sometimes find an interesting condition, well, interesting.’ She touched Belle’s arm. ‘Come, it is time to leave.’

  Her heart was beating so fast she felt almost faint. Her stomach was starting to turn. ‘In a moment. I think I will sit down.’

  ‘Will you be all right? Shall I send for a footman to carry you down?’

  ‘Oh, no. How odd that would look! I think if I rest for a little bit… Perhaps you could tell Chloe and Maria I will be down directly.’

  ‘If that is what you want.’ She gave her a dubious look and left the room.

  She should have forced more than a piece of toast down herself but she had been so nervous she could hardly swallow that. The knock on the door startled her. She rose and opened it.

  Lady Georgina stood on the other side. ‘Good day, Lady Milborne. I have come to take you to your wedding.’

  ‘I am to go with Giles and Marguerite.’

  She smiled gently. ‘I think not.’ She pointed a small pistol directly at Belle.

  Belle looked at the small dangerous weapon and for a moment had no idea what it meant. She looked back at Lady Georgina. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that you will be married, but not to my nephew. I cannot allow that. Come with me, my dear. I am certain you would not want me to hurt you or your bastard child.’

  ‘Giles and Marguerite are waiting for me below. I cannot walk past them with you.’

  ‘But we are not going that way. We will take the back stairs which is how I came up unnoticed. Your bridegroom is waiting for you below.’ She grasped Belle’s arm in a grip that was surprisingly strong. ‘Come, Lady Milborne. I do not want to waste time in idle conversation.’

  She was still smiling but there was something in her eye that made Belle very afraid. Her sense of unreality only increased as she walked down the silent hall with Lady Georgina. All that she could think of was if she did not get away Justin would think she had betrayed him again. That she could not bear. Perhaps if she talked someone might hear them. ‘Westmore is waiting below?’ She tried to speak in an unnaturally loud tone.

  Lady Georgina’s grip tightened. ‘Hush, you little fool. No, Lord Ralston. Do you think I would allow you to marry my nephew?’

  ‘Lord Ralston?’ Her voice rose whether she wished it or not. ‘Arthur? I will not marry him!’

  ‘Oh, but you will. He is waiting to rescue you from marriage to a man who will make you miserable. Very romantic, do you not think?’

  By now they had reached the backstairs. She thought she heard a door close and then footsteps, but Lady Georgina had shoved her into the stairway and she could feel the cold pistol at her back. ‘Go!’ Lady Georgina said.

  She started down the narrow steps, her heart pounding and her legs unsteady. By the time she reached the last step her stomach was churning in a way that was not promising.

  There was a narrow passageway that led to the side drive. Lady Georgina pushed her through it and she saw the waiting carriage.

  Lady Georgina grabbed her arm. ‘Get in, my dear.’ The pistol was still at her back. She had no choice. She stepped into the carriage.

  ‘No!’ But Lady Georgina had already shoved her in. Arthur sat in one corner, his face worried.

  ‘Are you all right, Belle?’ he asked.

  ‘No. You must let me go! Please do not do this, Arthur.’ To her horror, the carriage had started to move. ‘I am to marry Justin.’

  ‘Do not worry.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I will make certain you get to the church in time to marry Westmore.’

  She stared at him. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I intend to take you to your wedding.’ He frowned at her expression. ‘No matter what you think of me, I am not so base as to force a woman to marry me when it is clear she prefers someone else. Besides, I suspect you would become a widow again quite shortly afterwards.’

  Had she gone mad? ‘I do not understand. Why did you do this?’

  ‘Lady Georgina was determined to stop your wedding. She approached me two days ago with a plan that entailed an abduction so you would be forced to marry me. I feared if I did not agree then she would find some other, perhaps more sinister, way to ensure the wedding was stopped. I wished to force her hand so that her perfidy would be exposed. I trust that, by now, she has been apprehended by the Duke’s secretary.’

  Her head was spinning with questions. But the carriage had stopped and she saw they were indeed in front of the small church. Her stomach had started to churn again. She had no idea whether it was from nerves or her condition. Arthur jumped down and held out his hand. She stepped down, just in time to see Justin emerge from the church. He took one look at Arthur, then stalked towards them with such a black look that Belle feared for Arthur’s life.

  She crossed to him. ‘Justin, don’t.’

  The expression on his face was so icy she nearly quailed. ‘It matters little to me whether you intend to wed Ralston or me, because I intend to put a bullet through him.’

  She caught his arm. ‘You must let me explain.’

  He looked down at her hand and then at her face with cold deliberation. ‘Very well, my dear Belle, explain.’

  She heard another carriage arrive and a voice she thought might be Giles’s, but her stomach had started to turn in an ominous way and she suddenly felt dizzy. ‘Yes, but for now I do not feel at all the thing. I need to sit down. I did not have breakfast today.’

  His face changed. ‘Good God!’

  She sat abruptly down on the grass and put her head between her hands, willing the nausea to go away. The last thing she wanted to do was lose the contents of her stomach in front of the others. She heard more voices around her and then someone knelt beside her. ‘Are you all right?’ Justin asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Although thoroughly humiliated. ‘At least I did not cast up my accounts this time.

  ‘I am sorry.’ He handed her a handkerchief.

  She took it and turned her head to peer at his face. The anger had been replaced by concern. ‘You should be. You do bear some of the responsibility.’

  A wry smile touched his mouth. ‘Approximately one-half, I believe.’ He held out his hand. ‘Can you stand?’

  ‘Yes.’ She placed her hand in his and he helped her to her feet. By now the churchyard was filled with people who all seemed to be gaping at them. The spell was broken by the vicar who came down the steps of the church to their sides. His plump, pleasant face was creased with concern. He glanced down at their hands which were still linked. ‘Are you certain you are well enough to stand for the ceremony, my lady?’ he asked Belle.

  ‘I think so.’ If Justin still wanted her. She cast a quick look at his face, but his expression was difficult to read.

  He did not take his gaze from her face. ‘Is this what you want?’

  ‘Yes, if you please. That is the only reason I am here.’ She willed
him to understand.

  ‘I will save my questions for later.’ His hand tightened around hers. ‘Should we go in?’

  She nodded, her mouth dry. He released her hand just as Marguerite appeared at her side with Chloe. They brushed as much of the grass and dirt from her gown as possible and straightened her bonnet which was completely askew. Chloe hugged her and presented her with a bouquet of flowers.

  And then she turned to where Justin waited for her at the front of the church.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Belle sat down on her bed. The little maid had helped her into her nightrail and now she was alone in her bedchamber.

  The day had passed in a haze. She could recall little of the ceremony that had joined her to Justin for the remainder of their lives. Not even the swift, cool, kiss he had brushed across her mouth had felt real. As soon as the ceremony had ended, Giles had appeared at his side and after listening to Giles’s terse words, Justin had sent her home with Marguerite and Brandt while he and Giles went off with Arthur.

  She had seen little of Justin the rest of the day. Marguerite had insisted she must rest and so had sent her straight to her bedchamber. From Marguerite and a horrified Maria, she learned that Justin, after listening to Arthur’s story, had spent most of the day closeted together with Giles and Brandt. In the end, they had decided Lady Georgina was to be banished to a remote estate with a keeper.

  Chloe came up a little later to report she had been quite stunned to see Justin and Arthur shaking hands in a most civil fashion. After delivering that piece of news, she looked rather lost and it wasn’t until Belle assured her that she could come and stay with her very soon, that Chloe finally began to seem more cheerful.

  Altogether Belle was certain it had been a most memorable day but, due to Justin’s insistence that she stay in her room, she had missed most of it. He had even had a dinner tray sent up.

  She scowled. He surely wasn’t planning to keep her prisoner in her room during the rest of her pregnancy. Or avoid her. She had probably experienced almost every emotion possible today, but the most overwhelming one at the moment was anger, mixed in with frustration. He could have at least inquired after her health.