“Drink.”
She shot Lysander a resentful glare. “I do not care for brandy.”
“I did not care to see how severely beaten you have been, but we cannot all have what we want.” He took a large swallow from his own glass, as if he were as much in need of it as he believed she was.
Bella’s cheeks warmed as she took a tentative sip of the golden-brown liquid, instantly feeling its heat as it slid down her throat to settle seconds later in her stomach. That heat now radiated outward, warming all of her, even that cold knot which had been twisting itself inside her chest since yesterday evening.
“Better?”
“Much,” she conceded with a rueful smile. She’d had no idea of the restorative value of alcohol until that moment; otherwise, she might have found herself drinking copious amounts of it these past five years. “But I must leave here as soon as I have finished my brandy.”
“Not until I have put some of my mother’s salve on your welts. My mother always applied it to Sebastian’s and my own scrapes when we were children. It certainly worked then.”
Bella felt her cheeks blaze with embarrassment. “I can do it myself.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Lysander threw off his cloak and hat, then unfastened the clasp at Bella throat and took off her cloak before lying all on the chair. “Unless you would prefer I call a doctor?”
“No!” Her refusal was immediate. “I do not want anyone else to know of…of this,” she added awkwardly.
He nodded. “Then come over here and lie down on the chaise.” It was an instruction, not a request.
Could this evening become any more mortifying?
“Bella.”
A shiver ran down the length of her spine at the thought of lying down and having her gown raised again by this man, her thighs exposed. A man she knew she had responded to earlier in the coach when he touched and caressed her.
A man she felt herself responding to again now as the slickness dampened between her thighs.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue as she crossed the room to slowly, uncomfortably, lie facedown on the couch. “This is most improper.”
Lysander sat beside her to look through the contents of the open cedar box. “No, what is improper is that you were beaten in the first place.”
He was right, of course. And if Arthur had not insisted she go to the Forsters’ this evening, then no one would be the wiser as to the beating. None of this would now be happening.
This being the raising of the back of her gown, the cool air on the heat of her thighs causing her to shiver slightly. She turned her flushed face away and buried it in the crook of her bent arm rather than look at Lysander as he put salve on her burning skin and gently began to rub it onto her abused flesh.
His hands felt…wonderful. So gentle as he slowly massaged the lightly perfumed salve—lavender, she believed—into her flesh so as not to hurt her any more than she was already hurting. A soft and swirling caress as Lysander smoothed the ointment thoroughly to the backs of her thighs for agonizingly long minutes before moving to the more tender skin between her thighs.
Bella squirmed at the intimacy. “I do not think I have any welts there.”
“But you are hurting there,” he murmured, his hand slipping deeper between her now parted thighs. “Here.” His fingers caressed her swollen nether lips. “And here.”
Bella’s teeth bit into her bottom lip, neither of them speaking again as those fingers moved higher to the tender nubbin above, stroking and caressing, and causing it to throb in a mixture of painful and aching pleasure she had no name for. Except to know that it felt wonderful, her earlier pain forgotten as that pleasure deepened and grew. It seemed to spread throughout the whole of her body, every inch of her becoming tense, as if she were being held poised on the edge of a precipice.
Lysander had not meant to take liberties with Bella’s vulnerability. He had not meant to do so. But the moment he breathed in the perfume of her arousal, he had become lost in the enjoyment of caressing and touching her. In wanting to give her pleasure when she had so recently known only pain.
That is a lie, he instantly remonstrated.
The truth is I wanted Bella from the moment I first saw her. To pleasure her. To have her pleasure me. For us to pleasure each other.
He felt encouraged by Bella’s lack of further protest, venturing to stroke and tease her swollen clitoris harder, faster, knowing by her gasping and whimpering breaths she was fast approaching her climax.
“Lysander...”
“Come for me, Bella,” he instructed gruffly. “Let go, love.” He pressed the soft pad of his thumb firmly against her clitoris, thoroughly enjoying the feel of it throbbing and pulsing in her release.
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” Bella did not seem to be able to say anything else as her whole body convulsed in such a tide of pleasure, all thought and sensibility fled her mind and she could only feel the complete and utter ecstasy coursing through her body and veins.
It took several minutes for her wits to return to her, at which time she was consumed with such mortification at her loss of control, she dare not so much as look at Lysander, as he still sat on the chaise beside her. Only the sound of their ragged breathing broke the silence in the room, the air permeated with the aroma of Bella’s arousal and release.
She was stunned as well as mortified, had never known such pleasure as that existed. She had been only sixteen when her mother died, and the two of them had not yet sat down together and had the talk regarding what occurred in the marriage bed. Arthur had discouraged all other female relatives these past five years, any one of whom might have enlightened her as to the ecstasy to be found under a gentleman’s skillful fingers. That nubbin Lysander had found between her thighs still pulsed and ached in the aftermath of that pleasure. It was—
“Now will you tell me why your brother beat you?”
The skirt of Bella’s gown dropped back into place to cover her thighs as she rolled over onto her side to look at Lysander. The closed expression on his face indicated he would no longer be gainsaid. “Would you allow me to stand?”
“Only if you will agree to answer me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that why you did…what you did.” Her cheeks warmed. “To ensure my compliance?”
“No.” A pulse beat in his clenched jaw. “But even so, I am not allowing you to leave this room until I have the answers to my questions.”
“Even if you do not like those answers?”
He nodded. “Even then.” He stood and stepped away so that Bella could rise to her feet.
Her legs shook slightly, and she could no longer look at Lysander, but the lingering intimacy in the room would not allow her to deny giving him answers either. “Ask your questions.”
“Why did your brother beat you?”
“Because I did not do as he instructed.”
“Which was?”
“Seduce you.”
Lysander’s brows rose. “Why on earth would any brother— Ah.” He stilled, remembering his conversation in the Masefields’ library with his brother and friends earlier the previous evening. “You brother expected you to seduce me into offering you marriage—”
“Absolutely not!” She gave a vigorous shake of her head. “Marriage does not feature in Arthur’s plans for my immediate future. Even to a marquis.”
“Then what are his intentions… Blackmail?” he guessed incredulously. “Does the bastard intend to try to blackmail me in return for his silence regarding your seduction?”
“Yes.”
“For money?”
“Yes.”
“He has done this before?”
“Many times.”
“You have done this before?”
She nodded, her gaze still lowered.
“Seduced men on your brother’s instruction?”
“Yes.”
Lysander’s jaw tensed. “How many other men?”
“I do not remember,�
�� she groaned.
“Try.”
“Perhaps a dozen or so.”
“My God…”
Her chin rose defensively. “You do not understand.”
“No, I most certainly do not.”
“I have a younger sister—”
“Is she involved in this too?”
“No,” Bella protested. “She is but fifteen years old. But Arthur is also her guardian.” Her eyes widened as she saw by the clock on the mantel how much time had passed since she arrived here with Lysander. “Please, I must be allowed to leave now. I cannot be seen to be visiting your home late at night—” She broke off her plea as a knock sounded on the study door, followed by the butler entering the room.
“There is a Sir Arthur Reynolds outside who, despite the lateness of the hour, insists upon seeing you, my lord.” The butler looked affronted by that insistence.
Bella felt all the color fade from her cheeks in the knowledge that, once informed she had left the Forsters’, her brother must have followed her here. A sideways glance at Lysander, which she gave reluctantly, showed his expression to be one of cold disdain such as she had never seen on his face before.
For her?
For her brother?
Or possibly both.
Chapter 5
Lysander had learned several unpleasant facts about Society these past few months but this…this latest subterfuge and slyness was without a doubt the most unpleasant.
And Bella was a part of it.
Lysander’s jaw tightened. “Send him in, Hatfield.”
“No!” Bella gave a vehement shake of her head as she looked at him imploringly. “There must be a servants’ entrance by which I can leave. There is no need for Arthur to ever know I was here.”
“Do as I say, Hatfield,” Lysander bit out tautly.
“Lysander… My lord,” Bella continued her appeal once the butler had departed. “Arthur will not tell you the truth. He will implicate me—”
“It seems to me you have already implicated yourself.” He snorted, wondering how he could have been so stupid as to have allowed himself to become so deeply ensnared in the Reynoldses’ spiderweb. “As such, neither of you is to be trusted one any more than the other.”
Bella’s heart plummeted at the icy accusation in the cold disdain of Lysander’s tone. Nor did she have anything to say in her defense, knew herself guilty of every bad thing Lysander must think of her.
Arthur looked his usual smug self when he was shown into the study by the butler. That smugness deepened as he discerned the air and aroma of intimacy in the room.
Although, that smugness faltered as her brother took in the narrow-eyed coldness of the marquis’s expression as he stood beside the unlit fireplace.
It felt so good to see her obnoxious brother’s confidence shaken for once that Bella was almost beyond caring about any repercussions there might be to herself for this night’s deeds. Almost. Because there was still Esther’s future for her to worry about.
And Lysander’s obvious disgust with her.
That hurt. More than she would have believed possible after only having known him for two days. After they had shared such intimacies and he had given her the first physical pleasure she had ever known.
Lysander was so different from those other men Arthur had forced her to compromise. Several of them had been married gentlemen who should have known better than to flirt with a woman who was not their wife. The rest had been rich and spoiled young men who dared not risk a family scandal.
Lysander was neither married nor young and spoiled, but a single gentleman aged in his early thirties. A very handsome and virile gentleman in his early thirties. For once, Bella had actually been attracted to the man her brother had chosen as one of his victims. So much so she had not been able to resist when he made love to her a short time ago.
And by doing so, had she possibly confirmed to Lysander her complicity in her brother’s blackmail?
“So, my lord.” Arthur eyed his quarry triumphantly, his confidence apparently having returned. “It would seem that you have compromised my sister, a liberty for which I now demand satisfaction.”
“Pistols or swords?”
Arthur blinked. “I… But… I was not referring to that sort of satisfaction,” he blustered.
“I am,” the marquis snapped.
“But… The Prince Regent has outlawed duels,” Arthur announced triumphantly.
“He is also a close friend of my father, and that is a law which is habitually and discreetly broken,” the other man sneered. “Name your weapon and time, Reynolds.”
“I do not wish to fight you with either weapon at any time, my lord.” Arthur held his hands out, palms upward in supplication. “I am sure we can settle this matter like gentlemen.”
“We would both need to be gentlemen in order for us to be able to do that. Something you most certainly are not.” Lysander’s mouth twisted as if he had tasted something bitter. “Indeed, you are nothing more than a whoremaster for your own sister.”
“Lysander…” Bella gasped as she literally felt the blood drain from her cheeks. Was that really what he thought of her?
He did not so much as spare her a second glance. “Unfortunately, you are also a vicious whoremaster.” His top lip curled up in distaste. “As such, I have no doubt you will beat Bella to within an inch of her life for having failed in her endeavor in regard to myself, once the two of you have returned home. Something I cannot allow to happen but also cannot prevent in the present circumstances,” he added bleakly. “Therefore, I intend to marry your sister and make her my marchioness as soon as it can be arranged.”
“No!” Arthur looked horrified.
“No…” Bella’s protest sounded much less forceful than her brother’s.
“Yes,” the marquis bit out abruptly. “Until such time as Bella is my wife, she will reside at the home of my parents. She also wishes for her younger sister to reside with her.”
“Now just a damned minute.” Arthur had at last regained his breath enough to speak. “Bella is not marrying anyone. Nor will I allow Esther to leave my guardianship.”
Bella barely heard her brother’s protest as she continued to stare at Lysander. By stating his intention of marrying her, he had cracked open a door on the darkness she had lived in for the past five years.
Except Lysander did not intend marrying her because he loved her or desired her as his wife, but because, for him, it was the right thing to do in order to protect her and Esther from Arthur. It was the worst of reasons for a marriage, especially when Lysander had made it clear he now held her in such a low opinion.
But neither could Bella dismiss it out of hand. Indeed, a part of her wished to grab his offer with both hands and hope that she could make things right between them at some later date. And if not… Nothing, not even Lysander’s continued disdain, could be as bad as living with Arthur for a day longer. She had no doubt Lysander was perfectly correct in regard to the retribution Arthur would take on her for failing to ensnare the marquis.
“I do not recall asking your permission,” Lysander said derisively now. “You will either accept my conditions, or I will see that you are drummed out of every London club and denied entrance to every Society home.”
“On what grounds?” Arthur sneered.
“On these grounds.” Lysander grasped hold of Bella’s arm and turned her away from them before lifting the back of her dress high enough to reveal the livid welts upon her thighs, before allowing the skirt to fall back about her ankles. “Do you deny you are responsible?”
Arthur sniffed. “A gentleman is entitled to discipline the women in his family.”
“And another gentleman is entitled to take exception and knock him senseless because of it. Fortunately for you, I would rather not soil my hands on one such as you.”
Arthur’s face became suffused with angry color. “You arrogant bastard!”
“Indeed, that is exactly what I am.” Lysand
er nodded. “As such, you were quite mistaken if you believed I would ever fear the gossip of the ton.” He snorted. “What do I care about having one more scandal attached to my name?”
“But—”
“Be assured I mean what I say, Reynolds,” the marquis continued coldly. “If necessary, I will engage the support of the Duke and Duchess of Stowmont in ostracizing you from all decent Society. The Duke and Duchess of Landingham too, and the Duke and Duchess of Blackmoor, the Earl of Latham, and Viscount and Viscountess Brooketon. Need I go on?” he challenged. “Good.” He nodded as Arthur remained tightlipped and speechless. “Now Bella and I will accompany you back to your home to collect her sister, Esther. Tomorrow, you will have all their things delivered here. Do you have a horse of your own in town?” This last was addressed to Bella.
She nodded. “Giselle. Esther has Starlight with her too.”
“You will also see that Bella’s and Esther’s horses are brought to my stables,” he continued his instructions. “After tonight, I do not require to see your face ever again, Reynolds. If I walk into a room, I expect you to walk out of it. If we pass in the street, I expect you to cross to the other side. If you even think you might be in the same place as Bella, then you are not to even attempt to go there. Do I make myself clear?”
“You cannot do this.” Arthur’s outrage had turned to a whine. “Bella is…willful and promiscuous.”
“That’s a lie!” Bella choked emotionally. “Lysander, did I not warn you—”
“There have been other men before you,” Arthur insisted. “Many other men. I had no choice but to try to purge the wickedness out of her before such behavior is allowed to affect our darling Esther.”
“The morals of your sister, or the lack of them, are no longer any of your concern,” Lysander added with finality. “You will do as I say, Reynolds, or you will leave me with no choice but to carry out my threats to you.” He eyed the other man coldly.
A contempt Bella knew was also being directed toward her. Leading her to wonder whether she was indeed being rescued, or simply moving from the frying pan and into the fire.
Seduced by a Marquis (Regency Unlaced 8) Page 5