Virtue and Vice

by Kimberly Brody

  Nay! She would not think of that silver-eyed devil! She banished his image again, trying to summon Paul, but the fantasy faded away, only to be replaced once again by her husband.

  Inadequate. One finger was inadequate. Her hips wriggled beneath her touch, but she yearned for release. She slid a second finger inside to join the first, moving them in and out. She used her thumb to stroke her sensitive bud, the way Ram did when he made love to her. Finally, that wonderful tension began to coil deep within her belly

  Her motions rocked the bed as she used her fingers on herself. Her left hand kept time with the right, squeezing her nipple each time her fingers plunged inside. Through the haze of her arousal and the liquor, she heard her own moans, growing louder and louder as she moved closer to gaining release. Finally, she allowed her imagination to run free, and an image of Ram rose up clear in her mind. She pretended it was he who filled her, he who stroked her. Gasping and moaning, her hips bucked against her hand. Her breath caught and she cried out as her body exploded in pleasure, as she felt the release of hot moisture over her fingers.

  She kept stroking herself lightly as she recovered from her climax.

  “Ram.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, horrified by the slip. She’d only whispered his name, but it would destroy the illusion of indifference she’d created if he’d heard. Anxious, she glanced at the door between their chambers.

  She needn’t have worried.

  Ram was gone.

  Chapter 25

  A pounding in her head made itself known first thing as Izzy awakened the next morning. This was quickly followed by extreme mortification at her actions of the night before. Burying her face in her pillow, she groaned in dismay.

  Had she really told her husband she would pleasure herself and think of another man while she did it?

  Even she knew she’d gone too far this time. And while liquor might have lent the bravado needed to do what she’d done, deep down inside she knew it was pure stubbornness, plain and simple, a way to punish Ram for his rejection. With a sigh of regret, she hauled herself from the bed, prepared once again to track her husband down and try to make amends. Calling for Meg, she walked on unsteady feet to the wardrobe to ready herself to face the humiliation that surely lay before her.

  But when she was finally dressed and ventured downstairs, Ram was nowhere in sight. Spotting Dexter in the foyer, she gained his attention.

  “Good morn, Dexter. Do you perchance know where I might find my husband?”

  His answering smile seemed strained. “He’s in the study, my lady,” she turned on her heel to go to him, but the butler’s next words stopped her. “He specifically left instructions he was not to be disturbed.”

  She was about to protest that certainly that didn’t preclude his wife from speaking with him, when Dexter added, “especially by you.”

  She froze, absorbing the full impact of his words. Some of what she felt must have shown on her face, for Dexter hurried to say, “I’m very sorry, my lady.”

  Her behavior last night had been inexcusable; Ram had every right to be cross with her today. Inhaling a deep breath, she tried not to take it personally. His anger would fade and then she’d apologize.

  “It’s all right Dexter. Will you have the carriage brought round?”

  He seemed relieved to be able to do something for her. “Certainly.”

  When the butler was out of sight, she allowed her shoulders to sag. She deserved Ram’s anger. She’d just not expected his lack of desire to clap eyes upon her to sting so much.

  She would visit Belinda as planned, and surely, by the time she returned he would be ready to hear her apology.

  She prayed it would be so.

  ***

  Belinda was waiting for her when Izzy arrived at her parent’s house. Disappointed to find her mother and father gone for the afternoon, and not completely certain her father wasn’t avoiding her, Izzy settled into the drawing room with her cousin for their chat.

  The place had an old, musty feel to it, as though it had been uninhabited for a long while, and she didn’t have any sense of belonging here. It had been too long since she’d been to this house to consider it home. Still, it was comfortably decorated. She could see her mother’s touch in all of the fine details, from the blue and gold damask on the walls, to the upholstered blue velvet mahogany chairs with fanciful scalloped edges that beckoned to be sat upon.

  She seated herself on one before turning to her cousin.

  “I’ve mucked up everything, Bel.”

  “Certainly it cannot be so bad.”

  “It is beyond bad.”

  Steeling herself for Belinda’s disapproval, she filled her cousin in on all that had happened since she’d come to London. When she finished the sorry tale, the look on Belinda’s face could only be described as horror.

  “Oh, Izzy,” Belinda whispered.

  Izzy hated that particular combination of words more than any other. “I told you I mucked things up. But why couldn’t Ram have just agreed to grant me the annulment?”

  Belinda sighed. “Firstly, the circumstances are the same as they were before your marriage. Your families need this match. Don’t you realize if an annulment were granted, your father would lose everything he gained from the Earl? He’s only able to come to London and reopen this house because of that money. As it is, he brought Thomas with us from Cornwall to serve as a butler as he can’t yet afford to hire a new one.”

  Izzy’s selfishness horrified her. The thought had never even crossed her mind. What would her father do if she managed to convince Ram to grant her the annulment?

  There was no time for true speculation on the matter, for Belinda was still speaking.

  “Secondly, has it ever even occurred to you that Ram might have strong feelings for you?”

  Izzy scoffed. “Feelings? He treated me most discourteously on our wedding night.”

  “But since then, has he hurt you in any way?”

  Izzy had to admit he had not.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Izzy. He cares a great deal for you.”

  She frowned as Belinda’s words churned through her mind. Could it be true? Was that why he was so upset with her all the time?

  “But Ram can’t love me. I love Paul.” She whispered.

  Belinda took her hand. “Do you, Izzy? Do you truly?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but Belinda continued without letting her speak. “Are you sure you’re not clinging to your old feelings because you’ve thought you wanted him for so long, you think you still have to want him? Because people will believe you fickle if you suddenly stop wanting him?”

  Izzy was about to scoff again, but Belinda went on. “If I met someone and was attracted to him, I’m positive you wouldn’t think me fickle if I stopped mooning over Heath.”

  Belinda’s cheeks had turned pink and Izzy frowned. “But that would be a wonderful thing. And it’s different! You can’t ever have Heath, not the way you want him.”

  “But you can’t ever have Paul, Izzy! You’re married to another man!”

  “That doesn’t mean my feelings for Paul changed overnight, Bel.”

  “Are you sure your feelings didn’t change a long time ago? I know you’re still fond of Paul, but fondness isn’t love. You’re not the same woman you were three years ago when you and Paul parted. When you first saw him again and he kissed you, how did it feel?”

  “It felt all wrong. But that’s because I’m a married woman.”

  “I don’t believe that’s the reason. Answer honestly. How did it feel when Ram kissed you, when you thought he was Julian and you thought yourself in love with Paul?”

  The truth was like a blow to the solar plexus. “It felt right,” Izzy whispered. And it had. Despite her betrothal to another man, despite her avowals of love for Paul, when Ram, as Julian, held her in his arms and kissed her and touched her, everything had felt so very right about it. She’d missed him terribly
during those long days when he was gone, and not because she’d wanted to lose her virginity so very quickly.

  Belinda pressed on. “Last night, when you found out about Ram’s mistress, how did you feel?”

  Even now, the thought of Ram keeping a mistress hurt unbearably. She shook her head, unable to answer the simple question.

  “And if I told you Paul had a mistress, too?”

  Even when Ram had pointed out Paul has most likely not remained faithful to her, the thought of Paul with another woman had wounded her pride, but she hadn’t experienced any of the terrible hurt that Louisa caused last night, with her malicious hints that there was still something between her and Ram.

  Suddenly it was like the turning of a key in a lock. Everything tumbled into place and there existed perfect clarity where until that moment had been only murky confusion. I love Ram. There could be no other reason for the pain and jealousy she’d experienced at Louisa’s words, or for her aching need to be with her husband, for her devastation each time she hurt him, or found herself the object of her anger. She clapped a hand to her mouth.

  “What is it?” Belinda’s asked sharply.

  “I- I think I’m in love with Ram,” Izzy whispered.

  Her cousin’s face lit with a big smile. “What an untenable position to find yourself then, married to the man you’re in love with.”

  Izzy stared at Belinda as realization dawned that she had already known. But how had Bel known before even she?

  Belinda must have sensed her unspoken question. “It’s in your eyes when you look at him too, Izzy. It’s been there since the day I caught you by the riverbank and you told me all about Julian.” She smiled. “’Tis the only reason I kept his identity from you,” Belinda added softly.

  Izzy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry over the revelation.

  She loved her husband.

  “Oh Bel, I must go to him, tell him…”

  Belinda stood quickly. “Of course you must! I wouldn’t hear of anything else.”

  Izzy almost tore to the door in her haste to see Ram, but before she made it out of the drawing room, she turned back, throwing her arms around Belinda.

  “I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”

  “You’ll never have to find out. Now go on home to your husband, you silly goose.”

  Izzy smiled her first true smile in days as she bid her cousin farewell.

  ***

  Ram stared morosely into a tumbler of liquor. It was cowardly to barricade himself in his study, but he just couldn’t bear to face Izzy. Not after last night.

  He’d stood in the doorway for a few minutes and watched her give pleasure to herself, knowing all the while she thought of another man. And this time it wasn’t only speculation on his part, he knew for sure, because she’d told him. And she’d cried out Paul’s name. He’d never experienced such pain or such blinding rage. He’d been so wrong. Her jealousy toward Louisa had meant nothing, for if she cared about him even a little, she could never be so cruel.

  As erotic a tableau she’d made sprawled wantonly on her bed, he’d turned away, forced himself not to watch, because he’d been afraid he might physically harm her. Nevertheless, her sweet moans had carried into his bedchamber, haunting him all night long.

  He couldn’t bear to face her just yet. In time, he would tell her of his decision to grant the annulment she so desperately wanted, but not today. Today he would mourn the loss of the woman he loved, and simmer in his resentment, too. Her selfishness astounded him. She thought of no one but herself. Certainly, she spared no thought for her family, and all they’d lose with the annulment and the scandal they would face, and certainly she spared no thought for him beyond the pleasure he brought her in bed. He married her even believing the worst of her, saving her from being disowned, and when he’d so foully wronged her, he’d done everything in his power to make amends for his behavior. He would have given her the world and spent his life ensuring her happiness, and despite all that, not only did she not respect him, or care if she caused him hurt, she didn’t return even the smallest measure of his love.

  He’d allow himself this short period of self-pity and mourning, and then his anger would fuel the steps he needed to take.

  A knock at the door disturbed his revelry. He frowned, recognizing the distinct sound of his butler’s knock. “I said I don’t wish to be disturbed, Dex.”

  “You’ve a caller, my lord,” Dexter spoke as he opened the door a crack and peered around it. “It is not your lady wife.”

  “Then who is it?”

  “Lord Lucien De Vere, my lord.”

  Ram released a pent up breath. “Show him in.”

  He dragged his fingers through his hair and straightened his doublet. He downed the last of the liquor just as Lucien appeared in the doorway. If Lucien thought anything of Ram drinking so early in the day, he made no comment.

  “This is a pleasant surprise.” He said as he grasped Lucien’s hand, and he really meant it. “What brings you here?”

  His friend frowned. “I wanted to make sure all was well. Things seemed amiss last night. Especially after we spoke with the King.”

  Ram looked away, knowing Lucien referred to his admission that Izzy loved another man.

  “Would it help to speak of it?”

  He contemplated his friend for a long moment. London society looked at Lucien as something of a rake, and a libertine. He went out of his way to foster that image, in fact. Rarely was he seen with the same woman more than once, and every mother of a daughter of marriageable age feared he would turn his irresistible attentions upon that daughter, when all knew it would never be marriage he had in mind. But beneath his exterior, Ram knew him to be a good and honorable man, who would never take advantage of an innocent. Since their early school days together, he’d known Lucien’s deepest secret. He had a soft heart and was a friend who always stuck by those he cared about.

  Ram shrugged. “What’s a man to do when he finds his wife loves someone else?”

  Lucien studied him closely. “If he loves her, as I fear he does, then perhaps he fights for her?”

  “To what end, Lucien? No matter what direction we turn, we run up against the same wall, over and over again. Paul Huntley.

  Lucien started. “Huntley?”

  Ram grunted. “Aye, that bloody peacock.” He noticed his friend’s contemplative look, and recognized the expression on his face. “What do you know?” Ram demanded, his tone coming out sharper than he intended.

  “Only that I rescued Miss Spencer from being pawed by Huntley in the garden after you’d gone last night.”

  “What?”

  “Your wife’s friend doesn’t understand that when a lady says no, that’s not an invitation to maul her until she changes her mind.” Ram was surprised to see a flash of very real anger on Lucien’s face, and the tightening of his jaw. “You’ll be happy to know I gave him a taste of his own medicine.”

  It was so sad it was almost laughable. “My wife loves a man who loves no one but himself, and nothing anyone says will make her see reason.”

  “Perhaps if I recount to her what happened last evening?”

  “I appreciate your willingness to help, Lucien. But I don’t want Izzy to stay with me because she has no other option. If she wants Huntley, I’m not going to stand in her way.”

  “Even though you care very much for her?”

  “Because I care so very much for her.”

  Lucien sighed. “This is why I don’t allow any lady in my life for more than a few nights.”

  Ram grimaced. “You can rest assured I’ll once again be living by those same rules. You’ve certainly never found yourself tangled in such a mess.”

  The butler knocked on the door again, and then coughed discretely.

  “Yes, Dexter?”

  “You have another caller, my lord.”

  He frowned. Who else could possibly wish to see him? “Who is it?”

  “A Sir Paul
Huntley.”

  Ram’s hand tightened around his empty tumbler. “Show him in, Dex.”

  Lucien sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Aye, my lord.”

  Lucien exploded the moment Dexter left. “He dares to show his face here? And you are going to entertain the man? Ramsay, there is a fine line between nobility and foolishness.”

  “I’m curious to know what business he thinks he has here.”

  “Shall I go then?”

  He looked to his friend. Ram was no coward, but he didn’t relish facing the man his wife preferred, alone. “I’d appreciate your opinion on whatever he thinks he has to say to me.”

  Dexter led Huntley into the room. The man froze like a rabbit when he clapped eyes on Lucien, but recovered his composure enough to move before Ram’s desk.

  They were beyond politeness at this point. “State your business, Huntley.”

  The blonde man stiffened in affront. But then a smug look crawled over his face, and he seemed to relax. “I’ve a confidential matter to discuss with you, Maitland.” His glance flickered toward Lucien. “This might be better said in private.”

  Ram deliberately didn’t offer any courtesies. “Lord Lucien will hear whatever it is you have to say.”

  Huntley frowned. “As you wish.” He ambled to the paneled wall and leaned against, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve been ruminating upon a most enlightening conversation I recently had with your lady wife.”

  Ram tensed. What had the little idiot done now?

  “She told me about your involvement with the Royalist cause during the wars. Very intriguing, that. And noble, too. Any man would be proud to have such a brave son. Oh! But your father threw in his lot with Cromwell early on, didn’t he? How do you suppose your father would feel if he ever learned of such disloyalty taken against him by his only son?”

  Fury sliced through Ram, bringing along a rage he’d never before felt in his life. It wasn’t enough his wife threatened to blackmail him with this information, but she engaged her would-be lover to aid her in her blackmail too? Did her perfidy know any bounds? He’d kill her with his own hands!