A Most Delicate Pursuit

by Pamela Labud

  “I’d heard, through private circles, that Summerton was about to turn her out for her refusing to marry. If I’d known that you’d be considering offering for her yourself, I should have spoken up about her reputation then. Later, I’d heard that she refused you as well. How humiliating that must have been.”

  Michael set down his glass. “What a truly vindictive woman you are. What a fool I’ve been to have not seen it before now.”

  Michael saw that his barb had hit home. Her expression hardened and her mouth went to a straight line.

  “You’re no stranger to cruelty yourself,” she said, setting her glass down on the table without looking away from him. “Perhaps that’s why I like you so much. I admit, it does sting when you turn your anger toward me.”

  “It’s not anger, Connie, it’s disgust.”

  Stepping forward, she grabbed his arm. “I know you’re not happy with me. I know you feel betrayed.”

  He saw the false emotions she’d painted on her expression. “It’s all been a ruse. You thought you could manipulate me like every other foppish fool in the ton.”

  “When we were together, I was as true with my feelings for you as I’ve ever been with anyone.”

  “What about Miss Hawkins? Do you love her?” she asked, her voice tight. Clearly she was straining to hold in her anger.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  “Yes, I do.” Feeling victorious, he poured himself another brandy.

  He looked at her a moment before speaking. “You didn’t come here to rescue my reputation. There’s something you want.”

  “I’ve come to tell you about your precious Miss Hawkins. That she was engaged to a certain young lord and meant to trap him into marrying her, in much the same way she is attempting to do with you.”

  “You mean Andrew Hudgins?”

  She took a sip of brandy. “Indeed.”

  “Beatrice told me of him. Of how he promised to marry her, convinced her to lie with him, and then left her alone, denying their agreement ever existed. I hope you didn’t pay him for that bit of fluff. Or did you make a trade, your charms for his information?”

  “I never pay for information, unless I know it benefits me, of course. As it was, Lord Hudgins was bragging about all the women he’d managed to sample over the years.”

  “Ah, the despicable Hudgins trying to gain your obvious favors, then. That’s certainly no inducement to lying, now, is it? Heaven knows you give it away easily enough.”

  Michael knew he shouldn’t be so cruel, especially since he’d been one of the men frequenting her parlor himself.

  “There are those among the ton who will swear that Miss Hawkins simply constructed a very clever trap. Of course, she didn’t do it alone.”

  “Oh, and who helped her in her collusion?”

  He watched her swirl the brandy in her glass, deeply breathing in the scent of the alcohol, causing her breasts to rise and fall. They were one tool she well used in her arsenal of weapons when she’d set about her campaign to seduce a man.

  To his credit, he hadn’t lingered too long on that battlefield.

  “Oh, this one and that. You know, her sister and her mother-in-law, the dowager duchess perhaps…”

  Michael’s heart nearly stopped as white-hot rage shot through him. “Madam, you go too far.”

  “To suggest the two women who love the chit the most would intervene for her? Please, my lord, you know as well as I, that’s what women do. We protect our own.”

  “So, you accuse Beatrice of being the villain here?”

  She shook her head. “ ‘Accuse’ is such a strong word. Of course, one would think that of a woman who would perpetuate a fraud.”

  “More than any other woman in the marriage mart? Pray tell, what makes you believe that?” His temper had just about reached its pinnacle. It was all he could do to keep from crossing the room and giving the woman a good slap for her impertinence.

  “I know her kind. Face it, Michael. She is spoiled fruit, left too long on the vine and sampled too easily.” She grinned, looking very much like a cat that had just swallowed a very fat mouse.

  Michael firmly set his glass on the table. “Madam, I insist you leave this house immediately.”

  Of course, he’d known the truth. But how terrible that Hudgins was bragging about it at every opportunity. If what she said was true, Beatrice was ruined already. And if she disappeared as she’d planned, then people would think the very worst of her.

  Like a lioness smelling blood, Constance went in for the kill. She stood now, laughing at him, the sound of her mirth stabbing his ears like a thousand shards of glass.

  “What? Did you get to sample her charms, too? Did she lead you to believe you were her first?”

  “Get out,” he said, clenching his fists. If she weren’t a woman, he swore he would throttle the life right out of her.

  “Men are so easily duped by a pretty face and a light skirt.”

  “Whatever Beatrice has done, or not done, doesn’t change my mind about you, Connie. I won’t marry you, nor will I keep you as a mistress. What we once had has ended and any affection I once held for you has been killed by your spiteful actions. I’d once hoped to keep you as a friend, but I can see even that is no longer possible.” He turned to leave her. “You will pack your things and leave immediately. Goodbye.”

  Just as he reached the door, he heard his former lover’s tone change, and he swore the temperature of the room dropped by the chill in her tone.

  “It’s a terrible mistake, Michael, making me your enemy.”

  He spun around to face her one last time. “One enemy more or less matters little to me. As it happens, you are not first in line for that honor, nor will you be the last. Now get out.”

  With that he turned his back to her and left the room. As he closed the door, he heard her hiss behind him. It was an angry, dangerous sound, and one he’d heard her utter before. It was no small concern that he knew well the turmoil she stirred against those who displeasured her.

  With Constance spreading her venom all over the realm, the courts might not look approvingly at their marriage. The sooner Ash arrived with the special license, the better for them all.

  —

  “How could I have let it happen again?” Beatrice had awoken immediately after Michael had left their bed. Pulling the quilts around her shoulders to ward off the morning chill, she saw her reflection in the cheval glass across the room.

  Taken by surprise, she stared at the disheveled mess she’d become since leaving Summerton. Torn from her family, attacked by marauders, traipsing through the woods with Michael…

  “Oh…” She clasped her hand over her mouth.

  Memories of the previous night rushed into her thoughts. How they’d kissed, held each other, and escaped into blessed oblivion together. Even now, her body ached for him. Michael was a malady she’d have to soon get over, or all was lost.

  Stupid fool that she was, she’d made things all the worse. Hellfire, she’d practically begged him to make love to her…again.

  Climbing out of bed, she started to pace.

  She was so angry with herself and so sorry for the mess she’d gotten them both into. She should have married one of the dozen or so men who had offered for her. She should have been a better sister to Caro and a better friend to Ash and Michael.

  If she had, she wouldn’t be miles away from her family with a man she’d already hurt too much, and facing an uncertain future.

  For a moment, she was sure that she’d been wrong to agree to become a governess and sail so far away from home. What sort of woman had she become?

  But the thought of being married, especially after the way that Andrew had shattered her hopes and dreams, was the last thing she wanted. And now having made love to him, she’d ruined Michael’s life as well.

  A gentle knock came at her door, and Bea knew she couldn’t hide from the world forever.

  “Come,” she called.

  “My
lady”—the maid bowed—“I beg pardon. My name is Lizzie. I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I thought I’d heard you moving about.”

  “You’re not disturbing me. I suppose I should get ready for the day. No sense in hiding away in here.”

  The girl entered. Of medium height, with thin and wispy blond hair, she looked to be no older than fifteen or sixteen. In her arms, she carried fresh linens, a lady’s gown, a pair of soft leather half-boots, and a basket that held an assortment of ribbons and combs.

  The woman grinned. “I think this dress will brighten you up a bit.” She held up a pale pink morning dress that had tiny embroidered roses around the neckline, hem, and sleeves. “And, if you like, I could put up your hair. I’m fairly good with the combs, you know.”

  Sniffling, Bea nodded. “Please.”

  Fifteen minutes later, she was seated at the dressing table, dressed, her hair tied up and looking a far sight better than she felt.

  “How’s that, my lady?”

  Bea smiled. “You’ve a good hand. If I’m not careful, some savvy lady may steal you away from me.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I’m most happy with my employment here at Slyddon.”

  “Of course.” Beatrice’s stomach rumbled and she remembered it had been the previous morning since she’d had anything to eat. “I think I’ll take a light breakfast in here. Then, perhaps go to the library,” she said, hopeful to avoid seeing Michael for the time being. She needed time to think.

  “Um, I think the earl is meeting with a visitor in the library.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m so sorry. I should have told you earlier. I mean, I thought you knew…”

  Not knowing why, Bea felt a sense of dread rise in her stomach. “Oh no, my fault. The earl might have said something and I’d forgotten. Probably one of the local gentry come to visit. Not to worry. I’ll join him there in a bit.”

  The girl bobbed her head and then left Bea alone. Watching her servant leave was something of a relief. While she’d loved visiting with her family and friends, more and more she was beginning to cherish her time alone. It allowed her to close her eyes and imagine the future she’d have once she was in charge of her own life.

  Just then, there was a gentle tapping on the door.

  “Yes?”

  An older woman stepped into the room. Agnes was her name, Bea remembered from previous visits; she was the downstairs maid. “This note was just delivered. A young man came and said you must read it immediately.”

  “Oh, did he wait for an answer?” Bea held her breath. With luck, it would be from her employer. It was all she could do to keep from tearing the envelope open right that very moment.

  “No, my lady, he did not.”

  Bea did her best to hide her disappointment. For a brief moment, she’d hoped that a carriage had arrived to take her to Portsmouth.

  “Thank you,” she muttered. Best not to dwell on it. She waved Agnes off, and as soon as the woman was out of sight, she tore into the envelope.

  Dearest Beatrice,

  I am so happy that you have decided to accept the position of governess. Lord Ringsley is most anxious to have you oversee our children. We were told of your flight from London and that horrible man, Mr.Bainbridge. We will be most happy to send a coach for you as soon as it can be arranged. Unfortunately, our driver, Mr. Higgins, has fallen ill and we are acquiring a second driver. As a result, we won’t be able to send a new carriage until Friday next. I do apologize for the inconvenience, but we will compensate you on the loss of income from the delay.

  Sincerely,

  Lady E. Ringsley

  Bea folded the note. She was thrilled that her message had reached her employer and that she was sending her a coach, but another week? Her heart sank. She’d hoped to be back on the road to Portsmouth as soon as possible.

  Of course, it stabbed her heart to think of carrying on this charade. The thought of how hurt Caroline would be when she learned the truth of Bea’s ruse was beyond thought. How could she possibly wait that long? And what if Ash decided to bring them to Slyddon?

  And then there was the problem of Michael. Of course, he’d want to stay and protect her.

  Every time he was close, her head spun, her heart raced, and her limbs turned to water. Sometimes she could hardly breathe and other times her words were jumbled almost beyond recognition. All her wretched body wanted to do was to lift her skirts and tumble with him at every opportunity.

  “I can’t do this,” she gasped. “I must end whatever this is between us, once and for all.”

  She ran from the room and down the stairs to the main dining room. She would tell Michael once and for all. Surely, once he saw her distress, he’d agree to…

  Turning the corner, she saw the cook coming out of the dining room.

  “Ah, there you are, Miss Hawkins. I was just calling for Lizzie to bring you up a tray. You must be famished.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” She looked frantically down the hall. Perhaps he’d already finished his visit and was eating breakfast?

  “Has the earl eaten yet?”

  “Yes, ma’am, some time ago. He’s in the library with Lady Merriweather.”

  Bea stopped short. “With Lady Merriweather? How long has she been here?”

  “She arrived early this morning. Such a determined lady. Fresh from the road, came straight from London, according to her driver. She refused breakfast or a chance to freshen up. Wanted to see the earl immediately.”

  “I see.” Her heart sank. How could he not tell her? Perhaps he was only being polite, not wanting to wake her. That’s what she told herself.

  Believing it was another matter.

  “I’ll go and give her my regards.”

  “I’m sorry. The earl said he didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Really? How long ago was that?”

  “Half an hour, maybe more. He mentioned something about settling accounts.” The woman backed away, hand over her mouth.

  “Accounts?”

  She shook her head, her tightly curled waves jiggling as she did so. “Never mind, my lady. I spoke out of turn. My apologies.” With that, the older woman fled the room.

  “Settling accounts.” Bea frowned. She knew that gentlemen often said such things whenever they spoke of “private matters” with their ladies.

  That was it. Michael was seeing to his mistress as if she wasn’t there. Those wonderful nights they’d spent making love, he’d been lying to her. He’d already cast her off like worn shoes.

  Bea bit her lip. What difference did it make? Wasn’t she running away as soon as her transport arrived? Wasn’t it best to leave him to this woman and hope he found comfort with her?

  That should have settled it. Michael would not be alone when she would be off on her grand adventure. Determined to not let her heart be broken, she pushed back the pain. She’d been such a fool.

  Never mind that she’d come to enjoy his company. Or that when he’d made passionate love to her, it had been the most thrilling thing she’d ever known. She was sure one day those feelings would fade and she’d become herself again.

  She’d learn to live her life without him. She was a strong woman after all.

  Or she would be one day.

  Though making herself believe it was another matter.

  Deciding it was time to eat, Beatrice made her way to the dining room and settled herself at the table. She’d barely had time to ring the servant bell when Lizzie appeared.

  “I thought you’d be wanting breakfast.”

  Bea nodded. “It is a bit late, but some tea would be nice.”

  The girl went about pouring her a cup and fixing her a plate from the sideboard. Slices of ham, fresh berries, and pickled eggs.

  “There you go, my lady.” Lizzie hummed as she poured the tea.

  Just as she finished her second cup of tea, she thanked Lizzie. “If you would get my afternoon wardrobe ready, please. I feel like going on a walk
in the garden. It’s been a long time since I last visited Slyddon. I think some fresh air and sunshine are in order.”

  The girl nodded and set off.

  Watching her leave, Bea decided to make her way to the library. Surely Michael had had enough time to “settle his accounts” by now.

  She was saved the trip when Michael appeared at the door.

  “There’s my beautiful girl.” He grinned at her. “You’re a balm to a stormy spirit.”

  Leaning over her, he captured her mouth with a kiss.

  “Oh,” she muttered, her mind suddenly scrambled at his sudden attention.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, snatching a leftover blueberry from her plate. “I had business to attend to this morning.”

  Bea couldn’t believe he’d lie to her so boldly. “Of course,” she said, anger stirring within her. Her first inclination was to call him out, to accuse him of playing her false and being with that wretched Merriweather woman.

  Leaning across the table, he took her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing lazy circles in her palms.

  “I want there to be truth between us. Though I didn’t plan it, I met with Lady Merriweather and informed her I no longer wanted her attentions. Our affair ended months ago, but since she’d become widowed she’d hoped to renew our affections.”

  Bea felt instantly guilty for judging him so. “Michael, this is really not something that I need be involved in.”

  He shook his head. “But you are. You’ve said often enough that you want no part of marriage. Since I’ve not had much fortune in that arena myself, I thought perhaps we could remain as we are.”

  She looked at him. “You want me to be your mistress?”

  “Of course not. I mean, remain together while here at Slyddon. You’ll be leaving soon enough and until then, we have quite a bit of time we can spend together.”

  Realization dawned. “You mean, together as lovers.”

  He dipped his head and kissed both of her hands. “I do, indeed.” He didn’t look up from her fingers, rubbing them gently as he spoke. “We must be careful, of course. No one must know, and we don’t want you with child, either.”