A Wayward Woman

by Helen Dickson

  Lance nodded without changing his expression, and taking a glass of wine from a tray raised it to his lips. ‘Do I?’ he said in an amused tone.

  The gentleman snorted with surprise and disappointment. ‘You mean you don’t?’

  ‘That is precisely what I mean.’ Then he automatically added a proviso to forestall further gossip. ‘However, I count myself fortunate to be on friendly terms with all the Ainsleys.’

  The gentleman heard that with some surprise. ‘You don’t say? But I thought your two families were …’

  Lance lifted his eyebrows with some amusement. ‘What? At daggers drawn? It is nothing but lamentable nonsense and people should learn to separate the rubbish from the truth. Over the years there has been a gross lack of understanding. Don’t believe a word of it.’

  ‘But you were alone together, and you did compromise the lady?’

  Unable to deny it since everyone knew Belle had spent time with him alone, instead of throwing a punch as he was sorely tempted to do, Lance said, ‘The whole of London knows it to be true—but it was a ruse of mine to get her alone.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And nothing. I lured her to my house with the promise of returning some property I had taken from her. It was not through want of trying on my part. Miss Ainsley—who is a paragon of virtue and a finer example of refinement you couldn’t hope to meet—would have none of it. I succeeded in getting her alone, but she soon gave me my come-uppance and left. I’m here tonight in the hope that she’ll accept my apology and look on me with more favour.’

  ‘Perhaps she will,’ the lord chuckled. ‘Nothing as fickle as women, eh?’

  And so saying he left to impart this new bit of information to his friends, that the beautiful Miss Isabelle Ainsley had repulsed the powerful Earl of Ryhill and that particular bit of information was far more interesting than that he had seduced her.

  Standing aside, Lance watched with satisfaction as the story was circulated and within no time at all male heads turned to look at Belle with renewed interest and speculation, and several hesitantly presented themselves to the dowager countess and requested she introduce them to her granddaughter. While remaining curious at this change in direction, she was more than happy to oblige.

  However, everything was explained when Lord Bingham had arrived and requested to speak with her alone, telling her that he had come to stem the gossip about Miss Ainsley. Seeing the sense of his words, that they combine forces to dispel this nonsense that was in danger of ruining her granddaughter completely, she had agreed. When he had left her she had been a quiet observer of his movements.

  It was with a sense of unreality that Belle danced with these gentlemen who had lost their aversion to her. She smiled politely and listened to their comments, but her only real feeling was that she was no longer ostracised. She even danced again with Sir Rowland, and was not aware when he looked at Lance or of the moment when Lance tipped his head that Rowland danced her on to the wide stone terrace, where he left her with the excuse of going to get two glasses of champagne.

  A man came on to the dimly lit terrace and a voice said, ‘At last. I was beginning to think I would never get you alone.’

  Shock stiffened Belle’s body. For a split second, her feet rooted to the ground, then abruptly she turned away from him. ‘Go away. I have no wish to speak to you.’

  He moved slowly towards her and took her arm.

  Belle could feel fury bubbling up inside her. ‘Let go,’ she snapped and jerked her arm. She would have fled back inside, but he held her fast. Her voice broke with the anger she felt. ‘I said let go.’

  ‘Easy, Belle,’ he said, releasing her arm. ‘You and I have a matter to discuss.’

  Spinning round, she glared at the handsome, forceful, dynamic man standing before her. He looked powerful, aloof and disgustingly self-assured. ‘Anything we have to say has been said. After everything that has happened, how dare you feel you have the right to approach me? How dare you try to manipulate me as if I am yours to direct—just as though you have a perfect right to? Now go away.’

  Even in the meagre light, her unparalleled beauty proved a strong lodestone from which Lance could not drag his gaze. Quietly, he said, ‘Will you calm down and listen to what I have to say?’

  Belle did her best to hold in the resentment she felt, to be dignified, as a lady of her class would be, but it was very hard and her expression was icy. ‘Nothing you can say can undo what you have done to me.’

  ‘I would like to try.’

  ‘And I suppose this was your doing—getting your friend to bring me out here?’

  ‘There is nothing untoward in that, Belle. I merely wanted to talk with you privately for a few moments. After all that has happened, I thought it especially needful tonight.’

  ‘Why tonight?’

  Lance bent his head, considering how best to approach the subject. ‘Personally I don’t care a damn what people think of me, but no matter what you think, it is not my wish to cause more gossip that will hurt you.’

  Her face working with the strength of her emotions, which had, for the moment, got the better of her, reluctantly Belle gazed up at him. In the dim light his eyes shone softly down into hers. His words, spoken quietly and with gravity, made her wary. ‘It’s a little late for that. You must have seen how I am being treated in there. They might as well have tarred and feathered me and tied me to a lamppost.’

  At any other time Lance would have laughed at the image her words conjured up in his mind, but now he would not insult her by doing so, for the strain of what she had gone through—was still going through—was there on her lovely, troubled face for him to see.

  ‘You have been treated harshly. You did not deserve that. For what it’s worth I’m sorry and would like to put it right.’

  ‘Ha,’ she scoffed. ‘What are you all of a sudden—some kind of wizard? All those partners. You made them dance with me, didn’t you?’

  ‘They were easily manipulated.’

  Belle was so humiliated by his answer that it took her a moment to reply. ‘Have you any idea how humiliating it is for me to know that?’ she fumed.

  He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘It needn’t be. Those men wanted to dance with you. They are not nearly as malicious as their female counterparts and were looking for any excuse to lead you on to the floor. I provided them with the answer.’

  Gazing at the cool, dispassionate man standing before her, looking so powerful, aloof and completely self-assured, Belle managed a nervous little laugh and said sarcastically, ‘Not only are you an accomplished soldier on the field of battle, my lord. You also appear to have a gift for strategy and subtlety on the dance floor, too.’

  ‘I do my best,’ he replied, ignoring her sarcasm. ‘There is also a rumour circulating that I was the one who pursued you, that I was responsible for you being in my bedchamber, and that you evaded my advances.’

  ‘And who started this rumour?’

  ‘I did. So far most people in there are starting to think you might have been wrongly maligned.’

  ‘I can’t argue with that.’

  Lance’s eyes glowed with the reflected light of the lanterns as he watched her unrelentingly for a lengthy space, heightening Belle’s tensions until she could hardly stand the suspense. Rather than leave herself open to his unyielding stare, she turned her head away.

  ‘I think I should go back inside. Grandmother will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

  ‘Come and dance with me. I have no doubt the tongues will wag even harder, but let them. This time they will wag to a different tune.’

  ‘I’m supposed to be evading you, remember,’ Belle retorted cuttingly. ‘What will everyone say when we suddenly appear and take to the floor?’

  He grinned. ‘They’ll see how weak you are and can no longer resist my manly charms.’

  She looked at him coolly. ‘Don’t flatter yourself—and don’t you think you should seek my grandmother’s favour first?’

/>   ‘Somehow I don’t think your grandmother will raise any objections, and will be happy to combine forces if it stills the gossip.’

  ‘You mean I’m not completely ruined?’

  ‘Not if you marry me.’

  Belle paled, unable to believe what he had said. Her anger stirred. ‘Marry? I think you’ve taken leave of your senses. I recall you telling me in no uncertain terms that you didn’t want to marry me,’ she said with cold, quiet dignity, lifting her chin and stiffening her spine. ‘In fact, you made it bitingly clear that you didn’t want me for your wife.’

  ‘That was then. This is now. I’ve changed my mind,’ he said flatly.

  She frowned, giving a hard, sceptical look. ‘Changed your mind? As easy as that? Why? Is it pity or guilt that has prompted you to ask me—that has prompted you to do the honourable thing?’ she demanded.

  He shook his head, knowing she would suspect this—and as proud as she was, her pride would make her oppose him. ‘Neither. I care enough about you to be hurt by the dreadful way you have been treated by society. You do not deserve that.’

  ‘No, I don’t—and I thank you for your concern,’ she remarked with heavily laden sarcasm. ‘Whether it is genuine or not means little to me. Your honourable nature is to be applauded, but you don’t have to feel under any obligation to marry me.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  Belle’s chin lifted even higher at his suddenly chilling tone. ‘I told you I didn’t want to marry you. Have you, in your arrogance, assumed that I have changed my mind?’

  ‘It has been known for some women to do so,’ he stated rudely.

  ‘And I recall telling you I am not like most women.’

  ‘I know that too.’

  ‘So we won’t marry.’

  Lance stared at the scornful young woman who was regarding him down the length of her pert nose and felt a glimmer of respect that she would dare to take him to task over what he was offering, which was to her advantage. ‘On the contrary. I have already spoken to your grandmother. It is settled.’

  His smoothly worded statement made Belle almost choke on her chagrin. ‘You have done this without consulting me first? How dare you do that? You had no right. None whatsoever.’

  ‘I had every right,’ he said coldly. ‘Your grandmother was the one who approached me, remember. Do not forget that in order to punish me she threatened to have me publicly charged with highway robbery and attempted seduction.’

  ‘She would not do that. She was bluffing.’

  ‘Maybe she was, but it is a risk I am not prepared to take. Do me the justice to admit that we were both responsible for the circumstances to bring about a union between the two of us, so that now it’s a question of that union being a success. It is in both our interests. It is obvious that in marrying me—’

  ‘It is not obvious at all,’ Belle cut in irately. ‘In marrying you I do not make a love match or even one I could possibly approve of. I might even say I make a forced marriage. Would it be a great surprise to you if I told you that the feelings you inspire in me, far from resembling love, rather approach a feeling of anger?’

  Lance did not seem surprised or insulted. Undaunted, he lifted his brows quizzically, a twist of humour about his beautifully moulded lips. ‘I can imagine,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders in a way that Belle hoped was casual, but at the same time she was filled with pain. But why should she care whether he loved her or not? He was offering her a life line, to enable her to hold up her head in society and not have to listen to the slights and slurs, the whispers and jeers. Why should she care about the rest?

  ‘I ask you to put aside your feelings and see marriage to me as a way forwards. Otherwise …’

  ‘Otherwise?’

  ‘You’ll be dreadfully unhappy.’

  Belle’s face hardened, and she said through clenched teeth, ‘Because of you, I have already been unhappy. I have no intention of starting all over again.’

  ‘It needn’t be like that. You won’t find me a cruel husband—and you’ll find me generous, I promise you.’

  ‘That is not what I mean,’ Belle burst out a little hysterically. ‘You expect me to be grateful for your generosity and that I should submit to you accordingly. You speak of marrying me as if you’re discussing a—a business arrangement—without any feeling or emotion, without even a pretence of.’

  ‘Of what, Belle? Of love?’ As he held her gaze his features noticeably hardened. ‘You have just told me that a union between the two of us will not be a love match, so I assume you have no illusions about that,’ he sneered at her coldly. ‘Love is a word that is so over-used it loses its meaning and force. It is a word used to manipulate idiots. I am sure you will agree.’

  Hearing her words quoted back at her with such frankness, Belle stepped back and turned away from him, wrapping her arms around her waist as she thought about what to do, knowing he was waiting for her answer. He obviously didn’t want to marry her—in fact, she suspected he must have thought hard for some way out of marrying her, for he seemed to dislike her intensely, but as he had shown when they had been alone together, he desired her too. Then again, perhaps she was only trying to fool herself into believing it.

  Unable to see her face, Lance moved to stand behind her. Now he had made up his mind to marry her, he could not understand her reticence. Was he not doing her an honour by consenting to make her his wife? How dare she argue and defy him? How dare she challenge him?

  ‘Well? How far have you got in making your decision?’ he asked harshly.

  Belle stirred and seemed to wake from a bad dream. ‘It’s agreed. I will marry you.’ She turned and faced him. ‘But I want to say that after what you have done and my own aversion to you, I was wounded by your harsh refusal to consider my grandmother’s suggestion that you do the honourable thing and consider me for your future wife. Have you any idea how difficult and humiliating that was for her? The fact that it was you who started the whole thing by taking the diamonds, and that disgusting wager with your friend, made your rejection all the more painful.’

  ‘But you do agree to the marriage?’

  ‘Yes. I respect your decision, but I know this is not what you planned or even what you want.’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ he stated frankly, ‘and I won’t pretend otherwise. I made that plain enough when your grandmother came to see me and I take nothing back. My freedom has always been important to me, and I am averse to relinquishing it.’

  For a lengthy moment, Lance’s deep blue eyes probed the dark depths of hers. He was profoundly aware of the enchanting young woman’s body standing close to him and her intoxicating perfume. His entire personality was pervaded by a shrewdness that had never taken principles into account, but only the fluctuations of human nature. He was clever, and he knew that when he held a woman in his arms he was very powerful. There was always a moment when the woman’s self-defence yielded before the lure of sensual rapture and he knew how to turn that moment to his advantage. If Belle was to be his wife, then perhaps he didn’t have to wait for the wedding night to enslave her. It was a pleasing thought, one he intended to act upon.

  ‘However,’ he went on, his eyes suddenly teasing as his hands went to her shoulders and he drew her near, his voice low and seductive, ‘I do find myself attracted to you. It just so happens that I want you, Belle—you cannot condemn me for that—and I know you want me. We have wanted each other every time we have been together. You are beautiful, innocent and courageous, passionate and stubborn—and I hope you will forgive my wrongdoings and get to like me.’

  Feeling perilously close to tears, Belle dropped her gaze, unable to absorb the amazing revelation that he was actually attracted to her. ‘I liked Carlton Robinson when we first met,’ she whispered. ‘After a couple of days I couldn’t stand the sight of him and couldn’t wait to be rid of him. It would seem that I have poor judgement in the matter of men. Maybe I should change my mind about marrying you.’

  ‘Belle,’ h
e said softly, ‘you have no choice if you want come out of this with your reputation intact. Come, let me look at you,’ he cajoled gently, but when she complied by raising her head, his brows gathered in perplexity. The tears glistening in the long, silken lashes were hard to ignore. Laying a hand alongside her cheek, he gently wiped away a droplet with his thumb. ‘What has happened is not so bad that you should feel a need to cry.’

  Embarrassed because she couldn’t contain her emotions, Belle responded with a shake of her head. ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Come now, your lashes are wet. If they aren’t tears, then I would have to think it is raining, and yet I cannot feel it.’

  Belle recognised the threat of her emotions were about to get the better of her once more and she stepped away from him, away from the gentle touch of his hand on her cheek. It certainly didn’t help her composure now to feel a resurgence of the various sensations she had experienced when they had been alone together in his bedchamber. Though sorely lacking experience in the realms of desire, instinct assured her the wanton yearnings gnawing away inside her were nothing less than cravings that Lance Bingham had elicited with what he had done to her that night she had crept into his bedroom.

  ‘I’m all right. It was just a moment of weakness, that’s all. It has passed.’

  ‘And you’re sure of that, are you, Belle?’

  Before she could prepare herself, his arms rose and dragged her to him. And then he was kissing her hair, her cheek, and caressing her lips with his own. His lips moved on hers, the fierceness changing to softness, to the velvet touch of intoxication. An eternity later he pulled his mouth from hers and looked down into her eyes, which were warm and velvety soft.

  ‘That was a mistake,’ Belle said desperately.

  His lips quirked in a faint smile. ‘Then let’s make another one.’