Beloved

by Stella Cameron

  “What are you suggesting?” Margot asked. She circled Pomeroy, causing him to turn in order to keep her in his sights.

  He smiled, his thin lips drawing away from stained teeth. “No need to go into that here, madam. Ella and I have business to conduct. I’m sure you’ll excuse us.”

  “And allow you to ride with a lady unchaperoned?” Margot said. “I hardly think that appropriate.”

  Ella could not seem to think at all. Her mind spun. He had gone to Pall Mall and been told he’d find her here? Who would tell him? Who would give him permission to follow her here?

  “Come along my dear,” he persisted, ignoring Margot. “No fault will be found with our keeping company in so public a setting. And there are things we must discuss. In private.” He looked significantly at Margot.

  Ella finally found her voice. “Countess Perruche and I are enjoying each other’s company. Let us get on, Margot.” She led the way back onto the Row.

  Pomeroy contrived to bring his horse in front of hers. He narrowed his colorless eyes. “You would do well to do as you are told,” he said, taking her breath away with his audacity. “I have already said that I come with blessings from Pall Mall.”

  “Pay him no heed,” Margot said, but Ella noted that the other woman’s voice trembled.

  “There are incidents I’d like to help you recall,” Pomeroy said to Ella. “Not that I imagine you can have forgotten them. Much as you might like to think you have.”

  Ella wound her reins tightly about her hands.

  “But we shall speak of that soon enough. Good day to you, countess.”

  Incidents? Incidents she might like to think she’d forgotten? Ella envisioned scraps of red chiffon—and a letter filled with foul implications.

  Pomeroy Wokingham?

  “Come, Ella,” he said, looking down his very long nose. “We have a great deal to talk about.”

  “We have nothing to talk about,” she told him, breathless. “Good day to you, Mr. Wokingham.”

  The corners of his mouth jerked down. The Adam’s apple in his thin neck bobbled. “Do as you are told.” His voice had the quality of a gust through gravel. “You are in no position to be high and mighty, miss. It’s time you accepted that. Any woman would be grateful for my attention. You should be overwhelmed at your good fortune.”

  Margot made a strangled sound.

  “Must I speak of your shortcomings in front of others?”

  “Go away,” Ella said.

  Rather than obey her wishes, Pomeroy put his horse between Ella and Margot’s and said, “We’ll be on our way. Now. I’m bloody tired of being told what to do and when to do it. Time a fella took matters into his own hands.” He reached for Ella’s reins.

  “Hold up there, Ella!” a man’s voice shouted. “Ella!”

  A second voice called, “Ella and Margot!”

  Ella looked over her shoulder and saw two men approaching at a gallop. One, mounted on a black, was unmistakably Saber, and her heart pushed toward her throat. She sucked in great gulps of air.

  “If you know what’s good for you, Mr. Wokingham,” Margot said quietly, “you’ll take yourself off. With all haste.”

  “The devil I will,” Pomeroy said. His nostrils pinched and his lips turned white. “I’ve more right to be here than any other I see.”

  The second man raised a hand and Ella recognized Calum, Duke of Franchot, her mama’s brother. Hatless, he had hair the same dark red as Lady Justine’s, and eyes of a similar shade of amber smiled his pleasure at seeing Ella.

  “If they discover you are pestering us,” Margot said to Pomeroy, “this will not be pretty.”

  “Tell them you are otherwise engaged,” Pomeroy said.

  Ella gazed at him and knew a moment of the purest disgust she had ever felt. The man was a reckless oaf. “A reckless oaf,” she told him. “Do you hear me? You are a reckless oaf who doesn’t know he is about to be run off by two of the most powerful men in the kingdom.”

  “A sight I’d rather not witness,” Margot muttered. “Blood sports have no place in Hyde Park.”

  The possibility of an unpleasant scene dawned on Ella the moment before Saber and Uncle Calum would have arrived. She glanced nervously from Pomeroy to the other two men.

  Then Pomeroy’s wild shout captured the attention of all in sight.

  “Damn you!” he yelled, all but losing his seat. The bay had reared. One of Pomeroy’s feet shot from its stirrup and the bay surged forward.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Ella said, quieting her own restless animal. “I called him a reckless oaf, but I had no idea…”

  Calum pulled up at her left. Saber walked his black to the right of the gray.

  Pomeroy’s bay bucked once more and took off at a furious gallop. The instant before the pair rode around the bend and out of sight, the rider wrapped his arms around the animal’s neck. Anguished curses floated on the pristine spring air.

  “Did you indeed, young Ella?” Uncle Calum said.

  She looked questioningly into his lean, exceedingly handsome face.

  “Did you tell that bounder he’s a reckless oaf?”

  “Well, yes.” She shrugged.

  “Good,” Uncle Calum said. “Our beloved Blanche confessed he’d been sniffing around Pall Mall, asking where you were. Said she’d told him you’d come here. Saber’s been filling me in on the Hon. Pom. I remember his father.”

  “I’d rather forget both of them,” Ella said.

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t break his unpleasant neck,” Calum said. “Can’t imagine why his horse took off like that.”

  “No,” Margot said. She studied the point of the pearl stick-pin that had formerly secured her satin stock. “I think it was the rider’s fault. He jumped and shouted so. Upset his mount evidently. I do believe a bee may have stung Pom’s…Well, stung him in a rather vulnerable spot.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Saber could scarcely bear the bright hope in Ella’s eyes. She stood beside Grandmama’s chair in the green salon at Pall Mall, and never stopped gazing at him.

  #8220;Such a fuss,” Grandmama said, not for the first time that evening. “And that man of yours is a savage, Saber. Turbans and tunics and red chairs. The idea.”

  “Bigun rather likes you, although I can’t imagine why.” Sometimes baiting Grandmama was irresistible. Saber leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs—and caught Ella’s dark eyes once more. “Bigun is my right hand. I’d probably be dead without him. But that’s not a subject we need to discuss here.”

  Ella smiled.

  Saber could not take his eyes from hers, but he could not smile. “I wish you hadn’t banished Blanche before I had time to remind her of her place, Grandmama,” he said. “She had no right to send that vermin, Wokingham, after Ella in the Park.”

  Grandmama waved a hand. “Leave Blanche be. Doesn’t always think. She means no harm.”

  “No more harm than a passing bee,” Calum said.

  Saber did grin then. Ella giggled.

  “I fail to see why that comment is amusing,” Grandmama said. “A bee often inflicts painful harm.”

  Calum leaned on the mantel, crossed one powerful leg over the other, and said, “Exactly as I suggested,” with a completely straight face. “Ella, I’m to tell you that Pippa intends to take complete charge of this ball we’re to give you.”

  Calum had already explained that he was on his way to Scotland to assist Arran and Struan, but that Pippa would be in London within a week.

  When Saber first saw Calum, he’d thought to be relieved of the necessity to move into Pall Mall, but, as Calum seemed pleased to point out, Saber’s presence would continue to be required for the ladies.

  “Pippa and I want this to be an occasion to remember,” Calum said, winking at Ella. “We met at a ball, y’know.”

  “We all know,” Saber said.

  “I do like Margot,” Ella said. Her lips curved softly in Saber’s direction. “I’m very glad she th
ought to seek me out. I believe we shall become fast friends.”

  The idea pleased Saber too. Margot could use more friends, particularly any who could ease her way in Society. “She’s a charming lady,” he remarked. “And brave.”

  “Margot who?” the dowager asked.

  “Countess Perruche, Great-Grandmama,” Ella told her, resting a hand on the old lady’s shoulder. “She’s delightful and very sensible. I know you will like her. She shall come to my ball, of course.”

  “Of course,” Calum said expansively. “You shall invite anyone you please.”

  “And a great many more she neither pleases to have nor knows at all,” Grandmama said, sniffing. “Everyone shall come. Everyone who is anyone.”

  “Aha,” Calum said, propping his chin. “The famous people who are someone. How well I recall the days when I was not considered to be anyone, as you put it, Grandmama.”

  “Calum,” the dowager duchess said sharply. “There are things best left forgotten. How could I be expected to know you were someone when I thought you were someone entirely different?… That is, when I thought that rogue Etienne was you and you were …? Oh, you dratted boy, you revel in toying with a poor old woman.”

  Saber and Calum exploded into laughter and Ella pressed a hand over her grin.

  The dowager gave a small smile. “You will not allow me the small considerations of the aged, will you?”

  “No!” Calum and Saber said in unison.

  Calum added, “You have the wit of a statesman. Would that you were a man. I should promptly put you forward to straighten out the mess in this country. A fine prime minister you’d make, Grandmama.”

  She lowered her eyelids and waved a hand at him. “Don’t try to win me with flattery, my boy.”

  “Flattery?” Saber said. “You are a marvel and you know it.”

  “A marvel,” Ella agreed. She wrapped her arms around her middle and strolled—apparently idly—across the room, tapping out the hem of her skirt with each step.

  Soft gathers crisscrossed the bodice of her celestial blue tulle gown, drawing the eye to her breasts. Fleetingly, Saber’s gaze settled there, on narrow lace that rested against the suggestion of full flesh above the neckline. A belt of woven gold studded with sapphires surrounded her waist. This gift he had sent yesterday, openly, and she had thanked him with sweet reticence. When he’d held the belt, he’d imagined it touching her—imagined his hands about her waist instead.

  He would marry her.

  He would marry and bed her.

  When next he lay with her, there need be no drawing back. He tensed the muscles in his thighs. The memory of the weight of her breasts in his hands stiffened his rod to bursting.

  Saber sat up abruptly.

  His rod would slip into her soft moistness while he held her breasts and looked into her black eyes.

  He remembered to breathe.

  Each time Ella moved, her skirts rustled. He heard the sibilant whisper of fine fabric against her legs. Her slim ankles showed in brief flashes with every step.

  The slightest instruction on his part as she lay beneath him and she would wrap her legs around him, cross her ankles behind his waist, raise her hips to open herself to him.

  He stood up and strode to the windows.

  “Moon fascinating you, is it?” Calum asked.

  Saber didn’t miss the amusement in the other man’s voice. “Fascinating, indeed. Always did enjoy a good moon.”

  “There isn’t one,” Grandmama said. “What’s the matter with you, Saber? You haven’t been yourself since you finally decided to put in an appearance again.”

  He raised his eyes to the dark sky, a sky devoid of moon or stars, and felt the beginning of the darkness in his own soul.

  “It’s been a long day,” he said. Facing people in daylight in the Park—tolerating their stares—had cost him dearly. “I think I’ll excuse myself if you don’t mind. No doubt you’re tired, too, Calum. Journey and all that, hmm?”

  “Don’t let me keep you up” was Calum’s response. “Grandmama and I have some catching up to do. I rely on her to keep my head level on estate matters.”

  The dowager actually made a gratified sound. “Are your quarters to your liking, Saber?”

  He grunted, and continued to stare at the night sky until he felt Ella join him. She stood close enough for her shoulder to touch his arm.

  “I understand you chose to take rooms at the very top of the house. Those rooms haven’t been used in years,” the dowager said. “Off on your own. Can’t imagine why. Harder on the servants.”

  “Bigun will be the only one to attend me,” Saber said. He couldn’t risk alarming anyone with some irrepressible outburst.

  “I’m glad you are to be here,” Ella said softly. “I didn’t think I should be, but I am.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want me here? I thought—”

  “I thought you didn’t want to be here. I was mortified at the prospect of your being forced to come because of me.”

  He was forced to come because of Ella. “We shall have decisions to make shortly.”

  “Yes.”

  “I think we should marry without delay.”

  She didn’t respond.

  Behind them, Calum and Grandmama carried on a spirited conversation about who was or was not anyone.

  Saber looked down at Ella. “Does that prospect displease you? Marrying soon?” He found he wished to hurry, for his sake as well as hers. Since yesterday he’d become obsessed with binding her to him. Only a fool would believe he’d be able to hide his deteriorating condition from her forever, but his heart told him that when she did know, Ella would defend rather than abandon him. She might very well help him keep his secret from a world that would surely want to lock him away if the truth became public. As long as his attacks remained confined to the night, making certain he remained in his bedchamber… Oh, God help him. Let him do what was right, for everyone, but especially for Ella.

  “Whatever you want pleases me,” she said at last. “I would marry you tonight, if that would make you happy.”

  He turned back to the pressing blackness outside.

  “But it doesn’t make you happy, does it?” she continued. “You are marrying me because you believe you ought to, not because you …” She stopped speaking and swallowed.

  Blindly, he sought her hand and pulled it beneath his arm. “I have already told you that I love you. There are things you do not know about me and I’d hoped you never would.”

  “But if we are to be married we must have no secrets,” she murmured. “What are these things?”

  He’d already said too much, much more than he’d intended—yet. “Are you sure you love me, Ella?”

  Her fingers tightened on his arm. “Yes, oh, yes, Saber. I have loved you from the moment I first saw you.”

  Saber closed his eyes. “And I have loved you. When you were a child I told myself I must wait, and that I could wait because I could do anything if I should eventually claim you for my own.”

  “And that wretched war almost took you from me.” Her voice broke. “I thank God you were returned.”

  He laughed shortly. “Returned. How appropriate. Rather like a parcel. I was returned, but damaged en route.”

  “Not to me,” she assured him. “To me you are as ever you were.”

  “And you”—he inclined his head to study her—“you have only become more beautiful. In your heart as well as in your beautiful body. There is no part of you that does not make me long to bear you away.”

  She blushed. Saber adored Ella’s blushes. “Does Calum know what’s been happening?” she asked. “About the chiffon? And—and the letter?”

  “Struan had already written to him about the chiffon. I think it better that we not share the contents of the letter if we don’t have to.”

  Ella felt giddy with relief. “I should rather no one else need ever know about it.” Her fingers traveled down to entwine with his. “What did he say abou
t the chiffon?”

  “That we shall discover this creature and deal with him.”

  “I have wondered about Pomeroy Wokingham,” Ella said. “He has made certain unpleasant suggestions.”

  “The man is besotted with you. Justly so.”

  She didn’t appear reassured, even by his little compliment. “He referred to my past. He said he knew things about me and that I’d best accompany him wherever it was he wanted to take me. There was a threat there, I know there was.”

  “The younger Wokingham is no more than a puffed-up popinjay. He may have got wind of something mysterious concerning you, but I don’t think he’s our man. If he’d written that letter, he wouldn’t show his hand by approaching you direct. I believe that if he knows anything at all of substance it’s no more than the fact that you were adopted by Struan and Justine. He may have tried to find out about your parentage and discovered nothing. There is nothing to be discovered. But that wouldn’t stop him from deciding to make evil trade upon unsubstantiated innuendo—just to force you to grant him your company.”

  “I hate him.”

  “Forget him. He is no threat.”

  The shadows in her dark eyes suggested she wasn’t comforted. “What does Uncle Calum say about our being married?”

  “That he approves. In fact, he is delighted. He will present my offer to Struan in Scotland.”

  “I see.” If Ella was delighted, she disguised her enthusiasm well.

  He brought their hands to his mouth and kissed her fingertips—and felt a tremor pass through her. “You are passionate, my Ella.”

  “Hush.” She colored again. “We shall be overheard.”

  “Passionate, but not overwhelmed with joy at the prospect of our wedding.”

  Her grip tightened until he frowned and glanced at her face. “What is it?”

  “I should like to show you how overwhelmed I am.”

  Saber raised an eyebrow in question.