A Terrible Beauty (Season of the Furies Book 1)

by Patterson, Stephanie

  “Yes.” He filled every letter of that simple answer with warmth and sincerity, then took the chair from her writing desk and wedged it beneath the doorknob to guard their privacy, to guard her as he hadn’t on that fateful night. His simple act made her eyes fill with tears of gratitude and she blinked them away before Michael would see them. He came back to her side and gently took her hand to lead her towards the bed. His eyes never left her face. “Come lie down with me,” he whispered, “and you'll be safe, ma Belle.”

  He stopped beside the bed and then looked significantly at the belt of her robe. Belle plucked at it with nervous fingers until Michael gently brushed them away to undo the tie himself. He eased her robe from her shoulders, then lifted the bedclothes so she could slide beneath them. He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his waistcoat and boots. “Move over,” he told her and she did.

  “This is probably not he most prudent thing to do, certainly it's the least conventional,” she ventured – not that she cared at this moment. All she wanted was to feel him lying beside her, his body against hers, his warmth and comfort making everything all right, even if it was just for a few hours. She'd deal with the complications caused by tonight's actions tomorrow. Right now she needed him.

  Michael stripped off his shirt. “True enough, but you and I have never been very prudent with each other. Why start now?” He left his britches on for the sake of modesty though she supposed it was more for hers than his own. Foolish man. He gathered her into his arms and she curled into him, laying her head on his shoulder and sighed with contentment as if she'd returned home after an endless journey.

  “Inevitable,” she whispered.

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  “Inevitable. Some things are simply inevitable,” she murmured drowsily. “My finding Drew was inevitable. Coming here and facing you was inevitable. We are inevitable.”

  “Yes, we are,” he said, kissing the top of her head, “but not tonight ma Belle. Tonight is for comfort, yours and mine.” He stroked her back, easing more tension from her body. It felt so good to be held in his arms. “I almost came back for you that night,” he whispered against her hair. “I wish to God I had. Certainly a better man would have made sure you were safe. I should have done at least that much for you. I'm so sorry, Belle.”

  Belle pulled away to lean over him, resting on one elbow as she stroked his cheek. She'd had five years of regrets and hurt, but then so had he. Tonight they would try to heal each other just a little, but she would not have a him play the penitent, at least not here, not now. “I don't want you in my bed as an act of contrition, Michael. If you're here it's because we both need and want the same things. Tonight is for our comfort, but it's also our chance to say goodbye to the past – our past. I want you in my bed, Michael. I always have. You were right about one thing that night. There has never been another man for me but you.”

  His eyes widened as he grasped her meaning. “You're saying....”

  “Yes, I'm saying that no other man has ever touched me but you. There have been times when I was very tempted, but you're the only one I've ever really wanted. One day soon, I will have you.” She smiled softly at him. “Let go of the past. Let me sleep in your arms tonight. Let me feel safe for the first time in more years than I can remember and tomorrow both of us will feel better.” Michael blew out the lamp and gathered her close to him.

  ***

  “You gave us all a turn, you know,” Drew said. “Why didn’t you ask Paddy or me to sit with you last night?” He sounded faintly accusing and Belle quickly realized Drew was not only worried about her, but also irritated that she'd taken comfort from Michael last night instead of him. Though their relationship had improved, Drew still harbored resentments against his brother for Belle's sake and in light of last night's developments, she needed to help Drew put his remaining anger to rest.

  “I thought I’d be all right,” Belle answered carefully. “Besides, I have to learn to handle these things on my own.”

  “How’s that working?” Drew’s dry tone held more humor than criticism and Belle cuffed him playfully in the shoulder like she would a younger brother. Drew grinned back at her. Today he'd wheeled his own bath chair down the garden’s graveled paths. His strength increased daily and tomorrow they would brace his legs to help him stand. A painful process to be sure, but if Duncan’s assessment was correct, Drew would eventually be able to walk on his own using only a cane for assistance.

  Paddy cleared his throat and Belle knew she was about to receive a lecture from the gentle giant. Levity was not in his nature. “Mr. Andrew’s right, Miss. Just because you didn’t take part in a cavalry charge doesn’t mean you weren’t in the battle for Sevastopol. You weathered other storms too, I’ll warrant. We can help if you’ll let us.”

  “You don’t always have to be the strong one, Belle.” Drew said, reaching for her hand, his earlier humor gone. “Paddy,” he said suddenly, “would you mind bringing me another blanket for my legs. It’s a little chilly.” The other man left them quickly and Belle suspected that they'd previously decided that Drew would be the one confront her about Michael’s presence in her bedroom last night. As usual, Drew spoke bluntly. “Did my brother take advantage of you last night?”

  Belle felt her skin flush. “No, Drew. I could have told him to leave and he would have followed my wishes.”

  “I doubt it. I don't mean to imply that he'd ever force you,” Drew said hurriedly, “but when Michael wants something, or someone he is impossible to refuse. I just want to be certain that you want this too.”

  “Yes, no, I mean...oh, Drew. I’ve made a complete cock up of everything.” She sunk down on to the stone bench near him.

  “No, you haven’t,” Drew said blandly. “If anyone’s made a cock up of anything, it’s my nitwit brother.”

  “Why are you still angry with him, Drew? It was five years ago. I was utterly contemptible to you and you forgave me. Why not forgive your brother? What happened to me was not his fault.” Belle glanced around to make certain they wouldn’t be overheard. Although Michael knew the truth now, she didn't want everyone in the household to know her past. “He had no idea about my true situation. I believe him when he says that no matter how furious he was me, he’d never have left me unprotected.” She reached out and clasped Drew’s hand. “The baron is the one who nearly beat me to death on the docks that night, not your brother.”

  “You’re right, Belle,” he sighed, “but Michael had just as much opportunity to observe you as I did. He should have known something wasn’t right. Hell, half the ton would have, if that old goat Ambrose had opened his mouth. If I’d spoken up....”

  Belle shushed him. “Drew, love, not many people are as observant as you. You notice everything – every minute detail about a person. It’s quite astounding, really. And if you’ll recall correctly, I wasn’t particularly happy with your astute observations. Even if you had spoken up, it wouldn’t have stopped Seaton. He would have made good on his threats to harm you and then simply removed me from London. One day I would have been found dead at the bottom of a flight of stairs, just like my mother.” She shuddered thinking of her poor mother, so frail, so alone at the last.

  “Still....”

  “No, Drew,” she said firmly. “The only people I blame is Seaton and Ambrose. One was brutal and violent while the other was a twisted, self-important old man who knew exactly what would happen to me. He wanted all of the Furies to suffer. Unfortunately, poor Sarah had nothing to do with it, but she still loss everything.” Belle sighed and looked out across the garden as she reached out and took Drew's hand in hers. “As for your brother, let's be fair. He only saw me a handful of times and he was more interested in protecting his family than delving into my history. Perhaps, in hind sight, I should have let you go to him for help on my mother's and my behalf.”

  Drew shrugged his shoulders. “I would have probably tired to handle it myself and created an even worse mess.” He shook h
is head. “You're right, the past is over and it's time we all moved on. I think the only reason I'm still angry with Michael is that he had your heart back then and even though the damned fool was half in love with you himself, he tossed you away.” He looked at her steadily. Her boyish friend was gone and in his place sat a man who'd seen more than his share of the ugliness in life. “You are my responsibility, Belle, just as I am yours. We made a pledge. I mean to make sure that you don't get left behind again and that this time my brother does the right thing by you.”

  Belle rose from her seat and leaned against the tree. “Do right by me? What does that even mean, Drew?” She plucked a leaf and twirled it between her fingers, taking a moment to consider what she wanted his statement to mean. “I told him everything last night.”

  “And?”

  “And I'm hoping he doesn't become a maudlin ass.”

  Drew chuckled. “Maudlin, we can probably avoid, but the ass part? Probably not.” Belle threw the leaf at him, grinning as he effortlessly batted it away. “So now you have two Lassiter men ready to sound the trumpets and ride to your defense should the need arise.”

  “I suppose,” she answered tentatively.

  Drew's manner grew serious again. “Sooner or later the baron will come back for you – you know that – and when he does you will need every bit of protection we can give you.”

  Cold hate filled her heart pushing aside any residual terror from last night's dreams. “He will come,” she agreed, “and that's exactly what I want, because then he'll answer for his crimes. He'll return to England when he thinks he's safe from creditors, or questions about my mother's death.”

  “Or when he's desperate,” Drew offered. “In any case, he'll not return under his own name and he will be a danger to you.”

  “I have resources now, friends in positions of authority. He won't get away this time,” Belle said coldly.

  “Your greatest resource is the protection of the Earl of Stowebridge.” Drew watched her closely and Belle knew this was going to be the most difficult part of their conversation.

  “My situation with your brother is complicated.”

  “It doesn’t have to be, not really,” Drew said. “You’re in love with him.” He paused to emphasize his point. “Still.”

  “No,” Belle returned sharply. “I don’t believe in love. You know that. It’s just some pretty paper we wrap around marriage when really it’s all about financial advantage, or lust.”

  “And you wonder why I'm still angry with Michael?”

  “Drew, my opinions on love and marriage aren’t Michael’s doing – well, not entirely. I simply grew up. This is the way the world works, or at least the world of polite society, and it’s that way for a reason. My friend, Molly, loved her husband and it destroyed her when he died.” Belle stood up and crossed to a row of forsythia bushes. “No. I’m better off without the ability for finer feelings. More honest with myself and those around me.”

  “Ballocks. You can deny it to yourself and me if it makes you feel better, but you are still in love with my brother. This time he will do the honorable thing, or he'll answer to me.” He grinned at her again. “Bath chairs at ten paces. Perhaps we'll use sling shots.”

  Belle laughed, and suddenly the last shadows of her nightmare melted away in the presence of sunshine, flowers and the warmth of her friend. Bit by bit, Drew was making his way back to her, back to life. When she left here... no, she wouldn't think about that now. Today was for springtime, for hope and even desire. She could hardly wait to see Michael today.

  ***

  Michael watched them through the veil of the wisteria arbors. Belle laughed out loud at something Drew said and lifted her face to the sun. She was pale today but otherwise she appeared well – lovely, as always. He'd been loath to leave her in the early morning light. She’d slept soundly curled up against him, making the most enchanting sighs and it had taken every bit of his iron control to keep from waking her to make love. Yesterday he'd felt torn between his desire for her and his responsibilities to protect her. Today he felt completely vivisected. He wanted Belle, but he had no right to take anything more from her than he'd already taken. Yes, he could claim her. Last night she'd all but guaranteed him they would become lovers and if she'd done so a few days earlier he would’ve swept her into an affair, heedless of the cost to her, but her revelations last night had changed everything between them. She was even more his responsibility now and he owed it to her to see her safely settled in life.

  Michael couldn't go back – they couldn't go back and they had no true future together after the harm he'd caused her. The words he'd flung at her that first day in his library came back to haunt him.You deserved everything that happened to you. The memory of those ridiculous words tightened his chest with sorrow and pain for what that young woman had suffered. He'd had the arrogance to condemn her. Belle had wanted him to save her back then, to be her hero, but instead, he'd tossed her into a pit with a wild dog. He was a right bastard.

  Michael turned back towards the house. He had arrangements to make. First, he'd contact Rafe and have him locate Seaton as soon as possible. He would have to take his friend into his confidence and Belle would be none to happy about that, but ultimately it was for her own protection. She would never be safe until they'd dealt with that animal. He also planned to write his solicitor. He couldn't erase the past five years, but he could make certain that Belle was financially secure. He'd settle funds on her and see to purchasing property for her as well. Perhaps he could even start a clinic. She'd like that. He thought about her kissing that little's girl’s cheek.

  A woman like her should have children, he reflected and felt a deep pang of regret that she would never have his children. He paused and looked back at her seated on the bench near his brother. The last blossoms of spring swirled on the breeze like a pink and white snow fall. Belle smiled as she caught some of the petals in her hand. In that moment Michael steeled himself to do one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do in his life – say goodbye to her.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Belle jammed the cork stopper into the small, brown bottle she'd filled with tincture of valerian. The stuff smelled ghastly, but it was highly effective in easing anxiety. Perhaps she should take a big swig of the stuff herself, she thought irritably. It might stay her temper. She set the vial smartly beside her remedy box.

  Mary had trained her to stay calm, even contemplative when preparing herbal remedies. She claimed, and Belle agreed with her, that the healer's intentions were as much a part of creating remedies as the actual ingredients themselves. She glanced around the stillroom at the stores of dried herbs and equipment, hers as well as what she'd commandeered from the earl's household. Stillroom work always calmed her whether she was preparing medicines, or more mundane things such as cleaning compounds and spice blends for cooking.

  She took a deep breath as she carefully wrote out the label using the Latin plant genus name. She affixed the label and stored the bottle in her kit. No more medicines today, she decided, not when what she really wanted to do was kick a certain earl in his aristocratic arse. It had been two weeks since he'd slept beside her and held her tenderly throughout the night. They'd planned to become lovers and now he not only avoided her, but he refused to even see her. He summoned Paddy to his study to discuss Drew's progress instead meeting with her and when she’d tried to breach his stronghold two footmen advised her that his lordship was too busy to see her. Worse yet, she saw the pity in both young men’s faces. It was impossible to keep secrets in a large household.

  Things had only gotten worse since the arrival of the earl's secretary. The man treated her courteously but he was as stiff as a new boot. No, the earl was not available to see her today, yes, he would inquire as to when the earl would be available, but his lordship was a very busy man and so forth. The rest of the staff tiptoed around her as if in fear of setting off a tirade, or worse, tears. Only Mrs. Babcock and Hodges acted as if nothin
g had changed and Belle was grateful to them. Clearly, she would have to force her way past Michael's guards and she'd best do it sooner rather than later.

  Belle yanked open the drawer in the worktable and began to rummage around for some string to retie her packet of herbs. She spied the leather pouch containing the notorious Tonic Tea and remembered her plan to send it to Mary for identification. She rounded up some writing paper and quickly bundled up a note and the pouch in a package to her friend and mentor.

  Just then the door to the still room opened and Mrs. Babcock bustled in, her eyes bright with excitement. She took in Belle's old and faded work gown, the one she always wore when doing grimy work, and clucked her tongue in disapproval.

  “And of course you'd be wearing that,” she huffed, shaking her head in disapproval. “Come, Miss Belle, we've no time to turn you out better. We can't keep her grace waiting any longer.”

  There was that familiar sinking feeling again. “The duchess has called?” Mrs. Babcock nodded as she turned Belle around to untie her apron. “Surely she's here to see the earl, not me.”

  “Her grace specifically asked for you and she sent Hodges with a note for his lordship. You'd best hurry, dear. There's no time for you to change first. She's been waiting a while already. I'd no idea where to find you,” Mrs. Babcock admonished, “and I've no idea what she’s up to either, but I have my suspicions.” Belle had hers as well. Apparently the duchess had come to make good on her threat to slap her.

  Belle barely had time to button her cuffs before she found herself face to face with Damaris Wentworth, Duchess of Strathmore. The other woman ran an appraising eye over Belle’s dress and allowed herself a small, but nonetheless triumphant smile. The Duchess wore a vibrant, blue-colored carriage dress in the first stare of fashion while her former rival wore a dress little better than rags.