Pride and Fire

by JoMarie DeGioia

  She shook her head wildly. “He tried to force me, Paul.” She came to her knees on the bed. “Only yesterday he did the same. Here in this very chamber.”

  Paul thought of the mark on her cheek, of the scratches on Reggie’s face, and believed she was telling the truth about that. But any compassion he might have felt for her was eclipsed by his rage over her treachery.

  He came to his feet. “You’ve betrayed me in every other respect, Michelle.”

  “Paul!” She reached for him. “I love you!”

  He stepped out of her grasp, striving to keep all evidence of the tender emotion from his face. “That is unfortunate.”

  Michelle fell back onto the bed, great choking sobs tearing from her throat. He took himself into the adjoining sitting room and closed the door tightly on her cries. Sleeping in one of the damned wing chairs would very likely cripple him. Well, he more than likely wouldn’t sleep at all. He removed his jacket and laid it over one of the wing chairs. Loosening his cravat, he rang for the butler.

  Hours later Paul sprawled in the wing chair, a nearly empty bottle of brandy in one hand, a glass in the other. His legs were stretched out in front of him, his head resting on the back of the chair. He’d tried to block all thought of Michelle from his mind. God help him, he couldn’t.

  Her face floated before of him, a loving smile on her lips. And all the while she was going behind his back to Reginald Thomas, of all men! She’d gone through Paul’s personal property. She’d looked at his ledgers and taken it upon herself to meddle in his financial affairs. Paul’s lip curled as he recalled that day she took her ride with Reggie. Michelle had seemed so out of sorts at her mother’s house. And later, in his study… He shook his head. He wouldn’t think about that, about her passion that had stunned and delighted him.

  Her betrayal wasn’t over, though. She’d gone through his speeches and discredited him in front of some of his most influential clients. Clients who would more than likely take their business elsewhere. More than likely to that bastard Reggie Thomas.

  He rubbed his burning eyes and poured the remainder of the bottle into his glass.

  * * * *

  Michelle arose the next morning and tried to make some sense of what had happened last night. Impossible. Choking back a sob, she washed and dressed herself. She donned a pretty day dress of sunshine yellow, the color depicting a brightness and gaiety she didn’t feel. Sitting at the vanity, she slowly dragged her brush through her hair. She didn’t ring for her lady’s maid, loath to face another human being that morning.

  Paul stalked through the chamber, not sparing her a passing glance as he went into the dressing room. She watched the door in anticipation. When he came out, clean-shaven and dressed impeccably, she had trouble equating him with the man who had coldly cut himself from her last night.

  Nevertheless, she squared her shoulders and readied herself for the inevitable confrontation. “Paul, we need to talk.”

  He ran his gaze over her, his face set. “We have nothing to discuss.”

  Michelle watched as he walked to the door. “You are a fool.”

  He froze, then turned on his heel to face her once more. “What did you say?”

  She gripped the edge of the vanity and stood, meeting his glare. “I said you are a fool.”

  “Why you little bitch. After all you’ve done…” He took a deep breath. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I am a fool for having trusted you.”

  Anger surged through her. Everything was her fault? Hers alone? “Paul, if it hadn’t been for your pride—”

  “My pride?” he cut in. “And what precisely does my pride have to do with anything?”

  She lifted her chin. “Your foolish pride kept you from taking my dowry, something that was your right. And my privilege to give you.”

  “Again it comes back to your dowry.” A wry smile curved his lips. “Money is all you care about, isn’t it, wife?”

  She blinked in confusion.

  “You’re a spoiled little girl, Michelle,” he went on. “Your father showered you with jewels, set aside a ridiculous dowry for your future husband—”

  “Ridiculous?” she asked. “Pray, why is my dowry ridiculous?”

  “It is an insult!” he raged. “Fifty-five thousand pounds! As if your future husband would be incapable of supporting you in a proper manner.”

  “You’re being foolish again, Paul,” she stated, her hands in fists at her side.

  “You’re the fool, wife, if you believed I wouldn’t find out about your treachery with your cousin.”

  “I had no choice!”

  “No choice?” He leaned his head back, a dark brow arched. “Why, pray, is that?”

  “You couldn’t trust me with your problems, your… your concerns.”

  “You have no business in my affairs, Michelle,” he said coldly. “You would do best to remember that.”

  “Oh?” she taunted. “Is that so? And what of our children? Surely any difficulty with your finances will affect them.”

  Paul grabbed her by the arms. “You know nothing of my finances.”

  “I only know what I saw, Paul.” She struggled to free herself but he held her tight. “You’ve never shared your concerns with me, your wife! And what of your speeches?”

  “My speeches? The very words you stole and fed to your cousin?” His eyes narrowed. “If I’d known you were such a prying busybody, I never would have married you,” he said bitingly. He spared her a leering glance. “Though I’ll admit you’re quite a tasty piece in bed.”

  His harsh words cut her and she lowered her eyes to the floor. He released her and stepped back, raking his fingers through his hair.

  “You wouldn’t have married me?” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the carpet beneath her feet.

  Paul took a step toward her, but when he touched her shoulder she brought her head up.

  “How, then, would you assuage your lust, Paul? If that is indeed the only purpose I serve?”

  He pulled back as if she struck him. “Perhaps I’d find a mistress,” he said. “A quiet little chit who’d only open her mouth to take me in it.”

  “You bastard.”

  She beat her fists against his chest. He easily held her away from him, bitter laughter coming from his throat.

  “Perhaps you could take a lover yourself, Michelle,” he said. “I’m quite certain Reggie would have you.”

  Michelle gasped at his words.

  “Reggie attacked me, Paul,” she whispered. “Surely you saw that.”

  Paul said nothing.

  “You’re not a fool, Paul.” She shook her head. “I’m the fool for falling in love with such a proud and stubborn man.”

  She turned to walk away from him, but he caught her easily.

  She looked down at his hand, wrapped tightly around her arm. “Take your hand from me.”

  “I think not,” Paul rasped, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him.

  Michelle saw it then, the desire in his gaze, and tried to pull away. He crushed his mouth to hers even as she held her mouth closed tight. He forced her back towards the bed, his hands reaching up under her skirts to cup her bottom. She fought him but Paul easily subdued her, laying his big body on top of hers on the bed. She finally relented, her chest heaving as she took in big gulps of air. She glared up at him.

  “Ah yes,” he said in triumph. “Here’s my hot little wench.”

  Michelle could only shake her head mutely at him. He leaned up on one elbow and trailed a finger over the silken skin above her bodice. He bent his head and ran the tip of his tongue over her flesh. Smiling wickedly at her, he reached under her skirts once more and removed her drawers. When he touched her damp flesh, he swore softly.

  His eyes flew to hers. “You want me?”

  She closed her eyes tightly. “Always.”

  Michelle turned her head away. Paul stroked her as she whimpered her pleasure. He pulled back and unbuttoned his breeches. With one thrust, he
entered her. He drove into her, his thrusts deep and hard. Her body bowed back with her release and he swore once more. He poured himself into her, groaning softly.

  When he ceased shaking, he came away from her to stand beside the bed. She watched him through hooded eyes as he tucked his shirt into his breeches.

  “I suggest you cover yourself,” he said. “You look like a trollop with your legs spread, with my seed on you.”

  Michelle sat up and covered her legs with a flick of her skirts. “You are a hateful man.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I know I can trust your body, if nothing else.”

  Paul turned to leave, but something held him back. “Michelle,” he began softly. “I’m sorry.”

  She closed her eyes. “Please leave me,” she said, her throat tight.

  He opened his mouth to say more, but only nodded before he left the room.

  Michelle rose and cleaned herself, relieved her dress wasn’t too badly wrinkled. She brushed her hair once more and, after nearly half an hour had passed, joined her husband downstairs.

  When she walked into the breakfast room, her eyes immediately settled on Paul. He sat at one end of the table, in deep conversation with Lords Chester and Roberts. The gentlemen stood when they saw her.

  “Good morning, Lady Michelle,” Roberts said with a bow. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  Her eyes darted to Paul’s. She looked back at the handsome man smiling at her. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking, Lord Roberts.”

  She nodded to the others and went to the sideboard to make her selection for breakfast. She wasn’t very hungry. Truth be told, her stomach was queasy. Little wonder, that. She chose a small portion of eggs accompanied by a roll, much less than she usually ate in the morning.

  When she joined Paul at the table, he placed his napkin beside his dish. “Michelle, I’m accompanying Chester to his estate in Cheshire.”

  She swallowed hard. “When?”

  “This morning,” he said shortly.

  She blinked up at him, wanting to beg him to stay, to try to work through the difficulties between them. But after his abominable treatment of her a scant hour earlier, she knew it was hopeless. He would never forgive her for any of it.

  She lowered her eyes to the smooth surface of the dining table. “As you wish,” she said, sipping delicately at her tea.

  Shortly after breakfast, she accompanied him to the wide drive in front of the house. He placed a dry kiss of farewell on her cheek and climbed into Chester’s carriage. Michelle bade farewell to Lords Chester and Roberts and watched as the carriage drove on to Cheshire.

  Chapter 26

  Michelle stepped back into the house to find her mother pacing in the entryway.

  “Why has Paul taken himself off to Cheshire, Michelle?” Lady Helen asked. “When can we expect him back?”

  Michelle raised a hand to her head and sighed. “I don’t know, Mother.”

  “The guests are about to take their leave,” her mother said. “What do I tell them?

  Michelle thought for a moment. She couldn’t bid farewell to Paul’s family, not now. Tears burned her eyes and what little she ate for breakfast sat like a lump in her stomach. “Pray make my apologies, Mother.”

  Michelle took herself up to the Rose Room. The beautiful bed mocked her. It was the scene of Paul’s ill treatment of her. And her wanton response to the man she still loved. She slumped into one of the wing chairs that flanked the fireplace, wincing as her back touched the cushion. No doubt Reggie had bruised her when he’d shoved her against the bookshelves last night.

  A knock soon came at the door and she sighed. “Surely I was a fool to think I could avoid Mother for a moment,” she murmured. “Come in,” she called.

  Becca pushed open the door and stepped into the room, a smile of greeting on her face. “Here you are, Michelle. Are you hiding, perchance?”

  Michelle smiled wanly at her friend and nodded. “That obvious, is it?”

  Becca closed the door and crossed to where Michelle sat. “Are you feeling all right?”

  Michelle shrugged in answer.

  Becca looked down at her lap and adjusted the pleats of her skirt. “I know Leed left with Chester and Roberts.”

  She thought of Paul’s coldness on the drive, of the carriage taking him away, and swallowed. “Yes. Apparently he can no longer stand the sight of me.”

  Becca blinked in surprise. “That’s surely not true. He can’t blame you for your cousin’s actions.”

  Michelle shook her head. “No,” she answered. “His leaving has nothing to do with what happened in the library. At least not with what Reggie tried to do last night.”

  Becca said nothing for a long while, then smiled brightly. “Well, what do you have planned for today?”

  Again, Michelle shrugged.

  “Do you feel up to a carriage ride?”

  Michelle arched a brow in question. Becca laughed, a sweet sound that lifted the corners of Michelle’s mouth in answer.

  “Why don’t you join Geoffrey and me at Kanewood?” Becca asked.

  Michelle’s spirits brightened. She couldn’t go back to London, not without Paul. And the thought of staying here with her mother was excruciating. Yes. A visit to Kanewood would do very nicely.

  “Thank you, Rebecca. That would be lovely.”

  * * * *

  Paul brooded in the carriage on the short ride into Cheshire, thinking again of how Michelle had looked in the breakfast room. He’d wanted to take her in his arms, to apologize for the way he’d treated her in their chamber. He’d wanted to tell her he needed to get away before his anger got the best of him and he truly hurt her.

  In the end, he’d told her nothing.

  Roberts and Chester exchanged a worried look. Chester cleared his throat. “Leed, what’s wrong with you?”

  Paul looked at his friend. “Hmm?”

  Chester barked out a laugh. “Don’t take this the wrong way, friend, but do you mind telling me why you decided to join Roberts and me?”

  “I needed to get away.”

  Roberts straightened in his seat. “Surely this has nothing to do with that dandy, does it? That scoundrel is long gone from Thomasham by now.”

  Paul’s gut clenched as he pictured Reggie’s hands on Michelle. “No. If he was still there, I’d have killed him for sure.”

  Roberts grinned. “Then I’m glad Chester and I um…persuaded Reggie to quit Thomasham.”

  Though he appreciated Roberts’s wit, Paul couldn’t return his smile.

  * * * *

  On the long carriage ride to Kanewood, Michelle let Geoffrey’s and Becca’s easy banter wash over her. They discussed nothing in particular and everything in general. Michelle saw the tenderness in Geoffrey’s eyes as he looked at his wife, and felt a tearing in her heart. Surely Paul would never look at her that way again.

  It was getting close to lunchtime, a fact of which Michelle was reminded when her stomach growled rather loudly.

  Becca caught her eye and smiled. “I believe we’ll stop for luncheon soon. You’ll enjoy the food, I daresay. The lamb is magnificent here, isn’t it, husband?”

  “Yes, Becca,” Geoffrey agreed. “And the bread is always fresh.”

  Becca nodded. “Now, nothing compares with the meals at Raven’s. Though I admit I am biased. Have you ever been there, Michelle?”

  Michelle knew that Raven’s, an elegant inn near Bedford, was where Becca had lived with her stepfather before she met Geoffrey.

  “No, I’ve never been,” Michelle said.

  “Perhaps you and Leed will stop there on your return to Town,” Geoffrey said.

  Michelle winced at the mention of Paul’s name, a reaction Becca didn’t miss.

  Becca patted Michelle’s hand. “Yes, Raven’s serves the heartiest meals. Just the thing after a long trip. The roast beef, even the venison, is done to perfection.”

  Suddenly the carriage’s rocking motion had a disturbing effect on Mi
chelle’s stomach. She felt hot and cold as her heart began to race. She placed her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

  “Oh my,” Becca said. “Geoffrey, tell the driver to stop.”

  The carriage rocked to a stop and Michelle flew out the door. She managed to reach a spot behind some shrubbery before she lost her meager breakfast. She walked slowly back to where Becca stood waiting.

  “The color has returned to your cheeks, thank God,” Becca said. “Are you all right?”

  Michelle nodded, embarrassed. “Yes. It’s the strangest thing. I’ve never gotten sick on a carriage ride before.”

  “Perhaps last evening…” Becca began, shaking her head.

  “I suppose what happened in the library could be affecting me now,” Michelle said. More likely the horrid exchange with Paul this morning, she thought.

  “Are you all right, Lady Michelle?” Geoffrey asked.

  “I’ll be fine, Lord Kanewood,” Michelle answered. She took her seat. “How long until we reach this inn?”

  He arched a brow at her. “You’re hungry?”

  “Famished,” Michelle answered with a shy smile.

  * * * *

  At Chester’s estate, Chesterfield, Paul and his friends made the easy decision to go riding. As they cantered over the rolling hills, Paul felt his good humor return. They stopped to water their horses at a small brook that wound its way through the earl’s property and Paul stepped away from his mount, brushing his hands off on his buff-colored breeches.

  “So what debauchery do you have planned for us this evening, Chester?” Paul asked.

  “Debauchery? Leed, you cut me to the quick.”

  “Come, Chester,” Roberts said from where he leaned against a tree. “You can’t expect us to sit around the manor playing whist now, can you?”

  “Perhaps Chester will entertain us on the pianoforte,” Paul said.

  “Never mind that nonsense,” Chester said. “Do you expect me to bring in some wenches from the neighboring town, Leed?”

  Paul scratched his chin thoughtfully. “The idea has merit, Chester.”