Debbie Raleigh - Some Like It Brazen.doc

by Some Like It Brazen (lit)

  Just like a preening coxcomb, he had acknowledged with a hint of disgust at his vanity.

  Of course, the delay had meant he had been late in entering the conservatory. So late that Bianca had thought herself alone with her beloved Lord Aldron and at liberty to indulge in a passionate, star-crossed-lover scene. One that was quite worthy of Shakespeare.

  And had revealed the truth of the woman he had very nearly made his countess.

  The red haze deepened to crimson as he swept down the steps and searched the line of carriages until he found his own. Irritably waving the startled groom aside, he yanked open the door and climbed within.

  “Take me home,” he growled.

  “At once, sir.”

  Closing the door, Edward leaned against the leather squabs and clenched his fists in his lap.

  He had never been so furious in his entire life. And yet at the same moment, there was a horrible part of him that longed for nothing more than to return to the conservatory and toss Bianca over his shoulder so he could carry her off and never let her go.

  By God…he truly was a dolt.

  “Edward.”

  Without warning, the door to the carriage was wrenched open and Bianca was clambering into the darkness with him.

  Shock at her audacity held him momentarily speechless, but as she shut the door and firmly settled in the seat opposite him, he at last found his tongue.

  “Get out of the carriage, Bianca,” he gritted.

  Her chin tilted to a determined angle. “No, not until you tell me what is the matter.”

  Against his will, he discovered his gaze roaming hungrily over her slender form. Even in the shadows he noticed that she appeared oddly ruffled, with her features flushed and her raven curls tumbling from the tidy knot atop her head.

  Perhaps not so surprising, an evil voice whispered in the back of his mind. She did just come from the arms of another man.

  A relentless pain clutched at his heart.

  “Do not play the innocent, Lady Bianca. I am in no humor for it.”

  She bit her lip as if startled by his harsh tone. “You are angry?”

  He gave a short, humorless laugh. “How did you think I would feel to discover you in the arms of your love?”

  “He is not my love.”

  Her fierce words only fueled his anger. Of course she would deny her feelings for the other man. At the moment she was still terrified at the thought of his fortune slipping from her fingers.

  “What a fool I have been.” He gave a disgusted sound deep in his throat. “Biddles warned me, but I refused to listen to his warnings.”

  A frown touched her forehead. “Edward, if you were listening, then you must have heard me tell Stephen that I no longer care for him.”

  “Because you were in need of a fortune. Something he could not give to you.” His jaw knotted. Common sense warned him to bundle her out of the carriage and leave without a backward glance. What was the point in hashing through her deceit? But common sense had little sway over a broken heart and wounded pride. Suddenly he needed to know the truth. “Why did you lie to me?”

  She blinked at his abrupt question. “I never lied.”

  “You swore to me that your heart was your own.”

  “It is, or it was until I gave it to you,” she protested, even managing to conjure a shimmer of tears in the magnificent midnight eyes. Hell’s teeth, she should be walking the boards.

  “The truth, Bianca. Did you have a relationship with Lord Aldron?”

  She paused, and for a moment Edward thought she would attempt a futile lie. Then, with a restless shrug, she gave in to the inevitable.

  “For a short time.”

  “And you intended to wed him?”

  “I…yes.”

  Edward flinched. Ridiculously, her grudging confirmation of what he already knew sent another flare of pain searing through his heart.

  As if he had foolishly hoped there had been some terrible misunderstanding.

  Sapskull.

  “And you did not think it worthy of telling me?” he growled.

  “It was in the past. My father had already refused his proposal.”

  Edward froze as the truth slammed into him. Damn the Duke of Lockharte. He had played the both of them for fools.

  “My God,” he breathed. “That was why your father played his devious game. He knew you were in love with a fortune hunter.”

  Bianca regarded him in puzzlement. “Game? What game?”

  Tilting back his head, he gave a harsh laugh. “Congratulations, my dear, you are not quite so penniless as you supposed. I had it from the Duke that he has no need of my wealth. You have your dowry, and now you can have the man you want.”

  She lifted a hand to press it to her heart. The movement drew attention to the spill of her white breasts barely covered by the low cut of her bodice, and Edward was forced to shift uncomfortably on the seat.

  Obviously his body had not yet received the message that this woman was a treacherous jade.

  “My father lied to me?”

  “It appears to run in the family.”

  She ignored his insult as her brows drew together. “Why would he do such a thing?”

  “Obviously he thought it the only means to keep you from the man you desired as your husband.”

  “But—”

  “Enough.” Edward lifted a hand to rub at the knotted muscles of his neck. “Speak with your father if you wish to know what was in his convoluted mind. I wash my hands of the both of you.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath, as if he had actually struck her.

  “This is absurd.” She leaned forward, her features glowing with breathtaking beauty in the moonlight. “You know how I feel about you.”

  Edward eyed her with blatant suspicion. He had expected her to flee to her former fiancé the moment she learned that she was no longer bound to search for a fortune.

  It made no sense for her to continue playing her cruel charade.

  Still, if he had discovered nothing else this night, it was that he could not trust this woman.

  “I know what you desired me to believe.”

  “Last night—”

  “What?” he rudely interrupted. “You gave me your body?”

  She flinched at his bald words. “Yes.”

  “With another man’s portrait about your neck.” Before he even knew what he was doing, Edward leaned forward to tug the locket from about her throat. The cool silver seemed to burn his palm as he glared down at the delicate bit of jewelry. This, he realized, was the greatest source of his pain. Beyond the lies, beyond the knowledge he had been no more than a convenient means to a fortune, it was the cold-blooded manner in which she had pretended to love him while she clung to the portrait of another man. “I suppose you were imagining I was your precious Stephen when you took me into your body?”

  “Never.”

  He tossed the locket into her lap. God, he could not stomach to touch it.

  “Do you think he will forgive you for having sacrificed your innocence?” he demanded. “Ah, do not bother to answer. No doubt he will be willing to forgive any sin once he discovers your dowry remains intact.”

  She abruptly sank back in her seat, her expression one of wounded confusion.

  “How can you be so horrible?” she whispered.

  Just for a moment, Edward found himself nearly overwhelmed by a flood of guilt. She appeared so disarmingly hurt. As if she truly did possess a measure of feeling for him.

  Then his gaze was caught by the flash of silver from the locket upon her lap, and he sternly hardened his traitorous emotions.

  Good lord, how many times did he need to have his heart stomped upon before he learned his lesson?

  “How do you want me to be?” he rasped. “The simple, blundering farmer who does not have the wits to sense when he is being used? Sorry, but I fear that man has had his eyes opened. He will never be so naïve again.”

  Without warning, she reached d
own to grasp the necklace and tossed it onto the carriage floor.

  “The locket meant nothing, Edward,” she hissed. “For God’s sake, I had forgotten that Stephen’s portrait was even within it.”

  Edward abruptly turned his head to glare out the window. It was the very fact he so desperately wanted to believe her that made him realize he had endured enough.

  He was furious, sick at heart, and well beyond coherent thought.

  All he desired was a decanter of brandy and the comfort of his bed.

  Tomorrow was time enough to sort through the mess he had managed to make of his life.

  “Go, Bianca.”

  “Edward—”

  “Go.” He turned his head to stab her with a steely glance. “I have nothing left to say to you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Having heard any number of scandalous rumors concerning London’s most famous gambling hell, Bianca was rather startled to discover that Hellion’s Den was a rather modest establishment with a subdued elegance that was not at all shocking.

  Of course it was only midday, she had consoled herself. No doubt the half-dressed courtesans and drunken dandies seeking a duel did not arrive until at least after tea.

  Stepping across the threshold, she swept between the numerous tables and headed directly for the nearby stairs. Hardly the behavior of a proper lady, but then she had already called upon Edward’s townhouse without so much as a maid to lend her countenance.

  If society desired to be scandalized over her brazen behavior, she did not give a fig.

  Nothing mattered but that she somehow discover Edward’s whereabouts.

  Now.

  Clearly rattled at the sight of an impatient lady of the ton marching through the gaming room, a young male servant hurried to block her path.

  “Forgive me, but you cannot be here, miss,” he stammered with a fierce blush.

  Forced to halt, Bianca planted her hands upon her hips and conjured a haughty frown suitable for the daughter of a duke.

  “It is Lady Bianca, not miss, and I am here to speak with Lord Bidwell. You will fetch him at once.”

  The lad’s eyes bulged in terror, but much to his credit he managed to hold his ground.

  “I fear that Lord Bidwell has not yet arrived. If you would be so good as to leave a message…”

  Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. She had never been one to run roughshod over poor servants, but today she would allow no one to stand in her way.

  She was a woman on a mission.

  “I will not step foot from this spot until I have spoken with his lordship, so you might as well inform your employer that it will do no good to attempt to fob me off.”

  “Lady Bianca.” The drawling voice drifted from the top of the stairs. “Is it not rather early in the day to be terrifying my servants?”

  Bianca stiffened as she watched the slender, thin-faced gentleman mince his way down the stairs. Attired in a blinding yellow coat and green breeches, he lightly dabbed at his nose with a lacy handkerchief. However, it was his expression of mocking amusement that set her nerves on edge.

  “Where is Edward?” she demanded in stark tones.

  “Good morning to you as well,” he chided with a lazy glance toward the nervous servant. “That will be all, Cookson.” He waited for the lad to scurry away before returning his attention to her rigid expression. “May I offer you coffee?”

  Her teeth clashed together in annoyance.

  God almighty. She had just spent the worst night of her life as she had paced the floor and wrestled with the fear that she had lost Edward forever.

  That had been followed by a frantic morning spent attempting to find her elusive fiancé.

  She was in no humor to be patronized by a gentleman who had obviously done everything in his power to turn Edward against her.

  “No, I thank you.”

  A sardonic smile touched the thin lips. “Tea? Brandy? Arsenic?”

  “All I want is Edward,” she snapped with impatience.

  “And you believe I have him tucked in my pocket?”

  “I believe you know where he is.”

  With a flutter of his handkerchief, Lord Bidwell strolled to straighten the silver candlesticks upon a nearby table.

  “It is possible; however, you cannot imagine I would betray his whereabouts to you. You are, after all, the reason he disappeared in the first place.”

  Bianca winced in spite of herself. She refused to accept that she was entirely to blame for Edward’s unreasonable behavior. After all, he had been quite eager to believe the worst of her.

  But there was no denying that she had not been utterly honest with him.

  “I must speak with him.”

  The nobleman abruptly turned about, an unnerving glitter in his pale eyes.

  “You were not yet finished torturing him? Perhaps you had another knife to thrust into his back?”

  She ignored the sudden danger that shimmered in the air. She would not be intimidated. This was too important.

  “I am well aware that you have never approved of me, Lord Bidwell.” She confronted him directly.

  If she expected him to reveal the least discomfort, she was doomed to disappointment. His smile merely widened.

  “I possess impeccable taste.”

  “I also know that you have attempted to convince Edward that I am untrustworthy,” she charged.

  “Clearly I am brilliant as well.”

  The thought of choking the infuriating man briefly flashed through her mind. The pleasure would no doubt make up for being hung for murder.

  Unfortunately, she needed the man to discover the whereabouts of Edward.

  Stepping forward, she stabbed a finger toward his pointed nose. “But you have been mistaken in me. I love Edward. And nothing and no one is going to keep me from becoming his wife.”

  He did not so much as flinch. “No doubt you said similar words to Lord Aldron and who knows how many other gullible fools.”

  Arggg…the man was truly loathsome.

  “You have never done anything foolish in your life, my lord?” she demanded. “You have never allowed yourself to be dazzled by a pretty face or said words you wished unspoken? You have never kept secrets because you feared what might occur if they were revealed? You must be a remarkable man.”

  Shockingly, the slender man seemed to stiffen at her challenging words. Almost as if she had managed to touch a nerve. Then, with startling swiftness, his mocking expression dropped to reveal the shrewd intelligence he kept so well hidden.

  “What is it you want, Lady Bianca?”

  She took a moment to consider her words. She did not doubt she could cry and moan and plead until she swooned and not sway the man. It would only be by convincing him that she had no intention of hurting his friend further that she would learn what she needed to know.

  “I want the opportunity to prove to Edward that I love him,” she said with soft sincerity.

  “And how do you intend to do that?”

  Well, that was the question, of course.

  How did a woman convince a man that she loved him?

  That was a worry for later, she told herself sternly. For now all that mattered was finding Edward.

  “I will do whatever is necessary.”

  “He is a stubborn man who feels he has been betrayed. He is not likely to make matters simple for you.”

  Her lips twisted. Lord Bidwell was not acquainted with her or he would never have made such an absurd statement.

  “He could not possibly be as stubborn as I. Lord Harrington may not realize it yet, but sooner or later he will be my husband.”

  The pale gaze regarded her for a long moment before the slender gentleman at last heaved a resigned sigh.

  “Edward returned to Kent this morning.”

  Her heart clenched with an awful dread.

  So he truly had abandoned her.

  Hardly the actions of a gentleman who hoped to sort out the troubles that brew
ed between them.

  Could it be that Edward truly had washed his hands of her? Had he so convinced himself she had betrayed him that he would refuse to listen to reason?

  “He has returned to his estate?”

  Lord Bidwell gave a lift of his hands. “He claimed he had lost his taste for London.”

  She swallowed heavily. “Does he intend to return?”

  “That I cannot say.” He regarded her intently. “I did warn you that it would not be a simple matter.”

  She fiercely battled back the tears that threatened.

  No.

  She would not give in to despair.

  Somehow she would force Edward to face the truth.

  They belonged together no matter what the thick-skulled oaf might believe at the moment.

  “Thank you, Lord Bidwell. I will trouble you no further.” Turning on her heel, Bianca crossed carefully toward the door, sternly refusing to allow her shaking legs to betray her. Once upon the threshold, however, she turned to regard the brilliantly attired nobleman with a somber gaze.

  “Are you a betting man, Lord Bidwell?”

  A smile curved his lips. “My dear, I own a gambling hell.”

  “What odds would you give for my success?”

  Without warning, he tilted back his head to laugh with genuine amusement.

  “I would as soon wager that the sun will rise in the west as to wager against a female determined to haul a male to the nearest vicar.”

  Moving through the servants’ quarters of his small estate, Edward stifled a sigh at the sound of muffled tears that echoed through the hall.

  Although it had been near a week since his return to Kent, he had still not fully accustomed himself to shouldering the tedious day-to-day troubles that inevitably cropped up.

  In London he had been the Earl of Harrington. No one would dare to trouble him with anything but the most crucial decisions. And in truth his household ran with such smooth efficiency that he had not dared to interfere.

  Here he was just Edward Sinclair. A man considered more family than master.

  Halting at the open door to the housekeeper’s rooms, he regarded the large woman with steel gray hair who was currently mopping her face with a large handkerchief.