Lady Bess

by Claudy Conn

  “Aye, I agree that while he appears no more than a foppish fellow, there is more to him,” the earl said, glancing away from her to glare at Holland, who turned away and began conversing with the woman at his elbow.

  “We, no doubt, are attributing sinister character to the fellow, simply because we do not like him. It is probably not fair,” Bess suggested doubtfully.

  “Ye doona believe that,” he said, and as the waltz had ended, he led her off the dance floor and towards Donna and Robby.

  Fleet came up to them at that moment and pointed with a show of his chin. “See that fellow there … Mary Russell’s cousin. Havey cavey fellow.”

  “Really, Fleet, we were just saying much the same. Why do you say that?” Bess asked curiously, as she watched the earl walk towards a newcomer.

  At that moment the woman turned, and Bess sucked in air. She was beautiful. Bess heard someone whisper her name—she was the Lady Sonhurst.

  Bess’s heart took a shot straight through, and when the shot exited her back, it made a turn and came through her heart again. How could she compete with that woman?

  Sally Sonhurst was stylish, sophisticated, and ravishing and probably knew how to please a man in bed. She, on the other hand, was just a green girl.

  Bess watched the woman nearly take possession of the earl as her hands stroked his arms, and she had to apply herself to hear what Fleet was saying.

  “His father gambled away everything they owned—everything. Came here in hopes of securing his uncle’s vast inheritance.”

  “His uncle?” Bess said, only half-interested.

  “Aye, it was nearly in the bag, or so the gossipmongers say, until his uncle took this boy in. Some say he is the boy’s father …” Fleet remembered himself and coughed into his hand as he allowed this to trail off.

  Bess laughed. “Fleet, do you think that we women do not know what goes on? We may not speak of it in mixed circles, but we certainly do in private. So, then Mr. Dandy is cut off?”

  “At any rate, some say Landau, Holland’s uncle, adopted the child last year and means to leave everything to him.”

  “So, Holland is cut off then?”

  “Well, as to that, no doubt he will get something, but not half of what he thought he was about to get,” Fleet said and shook his head. “I don’t like the fellow, seedy, crafty … but it isn’t an easy thing to deal with, losing one’s expectations. Drives some men to desperation.”

  Bess looked at Fleet and said, “Yes, I see that it could.” She then turned to look at Holland as a notion began to form in her mind. She, however, shoved this aside—what could she be thinking?

  She returned to watching the earl as Lady Sonhurst put her arm through his and led him to the buffet table. Bess sighed; all pleasure in the evening had suddenly vanished.

  Time to wake up, she told herself. He will never be yours.

  * * *

  A soft knock sounded at Bess’s door as she removed her creamy satin wrapper and started to climb into bed. She hastily put it back on, thinking Donna needed something, and hurried to open the door wide.

  She felt as though her heart had suddenly stopped beating.

  She felt as though the sudden buzzing in her head would overcome her.

  Dizzy, that was it. She was dizzy. She nearly swooned before she caught herself and said, “My lord?”

  “M’lord, indeed,” he said, walking her backwards into the room and closing the door behind him as he swept her into his arms.

  Her wrapper slipped to the floor, and as his brocade dressing gown was unbuttoned, she felt almost naked as he pressed her into him and bent to take her mouth with his own.

  His lips brushed hers gently, softly, teased her with his touch. She heard the sound of pleasure in his throat, and it was at once frightening and seductive. Then his tongue found its easy path between her lips and met with her own.

  Lost. She was lost to his kiss. It was the sort of kiss women whispered about, longed to have. It was what she had been wanting nearly from the moment they had met.

  She didn’t need to cling to him, for he had her tightly wrapped in his embrace, but she held onto his strong arms and bent to his will.

  He came away from that kiss to murmur her name, “Bess, m’darlin lass, Bess.” The sound of his voice was magic weaving around her heart as it turned her blood into a molten stream.

  A knock sounded at her door, and they jumped guiltily apart.

  Bess felt wide-eyed as she stared at the earl. He put a finger to his lips and quietly retreated to her ante-room.

  She went to the door and said, “Yes?”

  “Darling girl, I thought if you weren’t asleep yet, you might like to sit and chat,” Maddy said sweetly.

  Bess closed her eyes. It was what she and Maddy often did after a rout or a ball. Maddy’s timing was, however, at the moment unwelcome, but she loved her nanny and could not hurt her. “Of course, Nanny,” she said as she opened the door. “Let me just get my wrapper, and we can hide in the kitchen like we do at home and have something sweet with a glass of milk.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely,” Maddy said with a happy sigh.

  She could do nothing but go with her dear nanny. Bess took up her wrapper, and with her heart pounding so hard she thought her nanny would hear it, she left the earl in the ante-room and hurried along the hall with her arm linked in Maddy’s.

  * * *

  The earl stood for a long moment and groaned to himself. Had he just been thwarted or saved?

  No doubt, if he put any intelligent thought into it, he had been saved, as had the innocent beauty he had almost deflowered. He had sunk to a new low, and at that moment he very nearly hated himself.

  Quietly, and unseen, he made his way out of the room and to his own. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He needed to send her away. He needed her to leave. He couldn’t control himself. He had been a man of control all his life. He had never allowed anything or anyone to take that away from him, and here he was, lost.

  He was having a time of it, controlling his feelings for her. Perhaps the solution was to alter how she felt about him? He had to find a way to make his wee lass feel disgusted with him, even, perhaps, hate him. He wanted her, bloody hell, he wanted her, but he wouldna seduce her. So, he had to push the innocent lass away.

  A notion came to him.

  He had noticed the look that had come into Bess’s eyes when he went off to chat with Sally Sonhurst.

  Bess had not liked it, not one bit. He could use that—his past relationship with Sally—to turn his bonnie lass away from him. The notion that she might end by hating him hurt so wickedly that he went to the sideboard in his room and poured a stiff drink before throwing it down.

  What was wrong with him? He knew what needed to be done, and he was a man of decision and control, yet neither one was working properly. He had to do something, for he was going mad with a hunger that was soon going to show itself and land him stuck in a marriage.

  Marriage just wouldn’t work for him—would it?

  How could it? He had always had an eye for the ladies. What if he strayed? He didn’t want to be unfaithful to Bess. He couldn’t do that to her—not to her. Yet, when he looked at her, touched her, he thought …?

  Marriage with Bess? Would it be so awful? At that moment in time, he wanted no other woman, only the wee lass, but would it always be so? Och, but he was a lowly fellow. His father had been faithful to his mother, as had his grandfather to his grandmother. Surely if they were not swayed from their vows, he, too, could keep a vow to his lass, his sweet and bonny lass.

  Still, it would be better, safer, if they parted and soon, very soon.

  ~ Twelve ~

  LADY BESS HADN’T slept very much. She had tossed and turned and punched her pillow several times trying to get comfortable, but she couldn’t. She had to wonder if Maddy had saved her from making a terrible mistake.

  Was it better to know the kind of lovemaking the earl could give her and
then perhaps lose him forever or to go unscathed forward and find another love—would there ever be another love for her?

  That was the crux of her concerns. She believed with all her heart that the earl was her one true love.

  She believed she would never feel again what she felt now for the big, beautiful Scot. Would his voice, his touch, forever haunt her? Could he want her above all others? Could he take her for wife and remain faithful? She couldn’t live a life with a man who went to other women for his pleasures—would he do that if he married her?

  Marriage? She doubted that had even entered his mind.

  Oh, faith, what was she to do? She knew what decorum and breeding dictated. But life was never so simple. How could she allow herself to fit into a mold? People thought a woman should be a virgin when she married, but why? She couldn’t find one good reason for it. Just the opposite.

  How could a woman know how to please a man, know how to be pleased, if she didn’t enjoy life’s experiences? And being with a man of her choosing—well, wasn’t that part of life’s experiences?

  And why should women be held to a standard men rarely held themselves to? Men flitted about from woman to woman, taking kisses and more wherever they chose.

  Sighing heavily, she pushed away her coffee, smoothed the skirt of her pretty pale green muslin day gown, and went downstairs to the breakfast room, where she could hear Robby in fine form.

  She smiled as she entered and looked about to find that the earl was not present. A part of her immediately deflated to find he wasn’t there, while another part of her was relieved, relieved that she wouldn’t have to look at his face and wonder what he was thinking. Oh, what must he think of her after last night?

  A familiar chuckle at her back made her spin around. There stood her father, and for some inexplicable reason she charged into his arms. He would understand. He just would. They always talked about everything. Could she talk to him about his? Oh, no, she didn’t think so.

  His voice was merry but held a note of concern. “Ho there, daughter, what is all this?” He set her apart, held her chin to look at her, and said softly, “What is it? Did you not enjoy Mary Russell’s little soiree last night? Did something go amiss?” He looked past the top of her head, and Bess saw him glance at Donna, who raised her brows and shook her head.

  Bess found her voice and chided him. “I am just happy to see you, Papa. I missed you.”

  “Come, let’s sit and be comfortable and have some coffee together,” he said softly as he led her to a seat and took one beside her.

  Maddy beamed and put her hands together. “My lord, how lovely Donna and our Bess looked last night. Like angels.”

  Donna guffawed in a style all her own. “We may have looked the part, but, Maddy, we cannot lay claim to being angels.” This entertained her so much that she went off into a cackle of mirth that left her husband regarding her with amusement. He chucked her under her chin and asked her to pass him the biscuits.

  “So then, daughter, have you been enjoying yourself?” Her father’s brow was up, and his gaze was penetrating.

  “Oh, you know me, Papa, I make the best of all situations,” Bess said on a tease.

  “Really?” said a voice that went through her with its Scottish burr and made her look around, startled even as she was filled with pleasure and a certain shyness.

  The earl pulled up a chair opposite Bess and her father. “And here I was telling your father when I met him during my morning walk that I thought you enjoyed the Russell soiree a great deal, and I thought, in fact, that you have been enjoying yourself during your entire time at Searington.” He eyed her reprovingly.

  She blushed, and he laughed and said, his hands up, “Teasing, minx, only teasing.”

  Everyone began chattering at once, about this character or another one they had encountered during the previous evening’s entertainment, and breakfast was passed with a great deal of jesting and laughter, as the banter was light-hearted.

  The viscount pushed away his plate and patted his nearly flat stomach to say, “Wonderful repast.” He eyed his daughter thoughtfully and added, “But, child, I am afraid we shall have to thank the earl for his hospitality and make our way home.”

  Without thinking, Bess uttered, “Oh no, no,” and then remembering herself, added, “I mean, so soon?”

  “I think we must before we outlive our welcome here. We cannot impose any longer on the earl. I am certain his lordship has better things to do than wait on us at Searington,” her father reminded her gently.

  “Yes, your papa is right,” Donna added but glanced at her friend with sympathy.

  * * *

  “Leave? Impose?” The earl shook his head vehemently. “I rather thought my guests were well pleased with my attentions? Have I been backward in something?” What was he doing? This was his chance to be free of the Lady Bess—to leave her in peace and in relative safety. What was he doing? He would only do the polite, and then, by damn, he would let them go.

  “No, no, John, do not turn this around.” Bess’s father chuckled. “I simply cannot impose on your kindness any longer.”

  “But ye mistake. I am imposing on yer kindness by keeping ye here at Searington as long as I may. I doona remember when I have enjoyed m’self more.” Did those words just come out of his mouth? What the devil was he doing?

  * * *

  The viscount laughed and shook his head. “I must escort Bess and Maddy home, as I must go to London and re-open our town house for the Season.” He smiled affectionately at his daughter. “Because as much as she does not wish it, I intend to give my daughter another Season.”

  Bess’s mouth turned down. The thought of leaving the area and pitching herself into another London Season held no allure for her any longer. All she wanted was to remain near the earl. However, as much as she tried, she couldn’t think of a convincing argument to present at that moment to dissuade her parent from this decision.

  “Ah, I had forgotten all about London and the Season,” said the earl on a slight frown. Bess thought for a moment that he looked as though he did not wish them to leave, and her heart beat wildly with hope.

  “Indeed, but what of that mare of yers?” the earl added. “I know I want to be here when she is bred to Bold Tim.”

  “Indeed, yes, I do, as well. My man says she is just beginning to come into her season. I thought I’d send her over for Tim to get to know her, later today, and help it along. Bold Tim is bound to speed up the process as they get to know one another.”

  Donna snorted, and Bess gave her a look, as did all the men at the table. The earl coughed into his hand as he choked back a chuckle and told them, “I always think it best for m‘stallion to ‘sniff’ the mare we are about to breed to him. The more in heat the mare, the better she will accept him when the stallion attempts to mount her. The entire event is a precarious one, where horses and people could get hurt if we doona watch and help it along every step of the way.”

  “Indeed, I should like to be around for that …” the viscount mused out loud.

  * * *

  “Well, then, since you doona plan on leaving until this is done, why not let me continue to host this exceptional party of friends I have here? For I tell ye frankly, my lord, I have been enjoying their company immensely.”

  The viscount smiled at him and then regarded his daughter. The earl had the feeling, when he watched the two exchange a long look, that Bess’s father was thinking deeply. However, he couldn’t tell about what, as he watched a silent conversation being exchanged between father and daughter. It was touching, and he felt an admiration for the viscount. Here was a good man, trying to do the best he could for his only child, and it was obvious from his lack of interest in other women that he still missed his late wife.

  True love had never been in the cards for the earl. He had never experienced such a love for or from any woman he had ever known. Passion and lust, over and over, and a desire to be his wife for position and wealth, but never
the kind of love he had long ago given up on.

  Maudlin. Why was he thinking of such things?

  Bess’s father sighed heavily and looked at Maddy. “I cannot believe I am saying this, and hope, Maddy, that you do not disapprove, but, very well. If the earl is not bothered by my pet’s willful presence …”

  “And us,” Donna put in brightly.

  “And you and Robby’s company, then, very well … have at the poor fellow.”

  Maddy clapped her hands and said, “Wonderful, because Anna—the cook here at Searington—was going to show me a recipe for a cake I so would like to be able to put together.”

  Bess rounded on her nanny. “Oh, Maddy,” she said with a laugh. “You must not. You know you can’t bake—you know it.”

  Maddy wiggled her shoulders defiantly. “Nevertheless, I should like to keep on trying, and you, for your naughty remark, shall be the first one to taste the results of my efforts!”

  Laughter broke out, and when it subsided, Bess began a discourse about some of Maddy’s attempts at baking, which had them all laughing for some moments.

  The earl watched them and thought he had not felt so lighthearted and happy in years. Life, in fact, had in recent times become predictable.

  Something had changed the moment he had clapped eyes on the Lady Bess. From the moment she had entered his world, his heart seemed to come alive with new energy; it seemed to open, fill his body with refreshed blood. His mind and heart joined as he was bombarded with new emotions, and logic had been thrown to the winds. Possibilities loomed in his sight; possibilities that had long ago been discarded came prancing before him and had a name: Lady Bess.

  * * *

  “When do you think they will return?” Bess asked Donna as she looked up at the early afternoon sun. Their horses trotted sedately down the drive and into the wide field through the open gate.

  “Hmmm, if I believe Robby, they are meeting up with the earl, who is not attending the cock fight, at a local tavern afterwards, so there is no telling. Late afternoon I suppose.”