“I desire time to deliberate,” her brother informed her curtly. “This is a matter I face with a heavy mind. You are my only sister, and there is nothing I want more than to protect you and see you happy.”
“The Duke of Devonshire can make me happy,” Bella lied. In truth, she didn’t know if she was cut from the cloth of a duchess. Her mind and heart were hopelessly muddled by Jesse’s return. Why hadn’t he stayed gone?
“In affairs such as these, there is more to consider than mere happiness,” he continued, stalking back to the desk once more. He appeared like a thundercloud, menacing in his concern. “I’m afraid there is the fact that Jesse ruined you. I cannot in good conscience allow you to go to Devonshire without letting him know his future bride is not chaste.”
She had no doubt that the duke would throw her over if he knew she was not an innocent. If her brother revealed the truth to him, Bella would be ruined in social circles as well as in deed. She would be a pariah.
“You would condemn me for the sake of your conscience?”
“My honor demands it,” he confirmed, not without a hint of remorse.
Drat men and their deuced, tardy senses of honor. He had built all his political aspirations upon his sterling reputation, so she supposed she ought not to be shocked by the revelation. But she was terribly disappointed. It seemed her options were limited by first Jesse and now her brother as well.
“Then I am either to wed Jesse or face social ruin,” she observed aloud.
“I’m afraid the decisions you made have achieved such an end,” her brother said.
An awful thought occurred to her. “Have you spoken with Maman?”
“I have not. You know as well as I that she will not take news of her daughter wedding an American with much grace.”
“She’ll have an apoplectic fit.” Bella heaved a sigh as the reality of her situation gradually dawned upon her. She would have to marry Jesse. There was no other path for her to take. She didn’t know how to feel. He was as much a stranger to her as he was a familiar lover. He had a daughter more than half Bella’s own age. It was all horridly worrying. “I will wed him if I must.”
“You do know that Jesse has a daughter, I am given to understand?”
“I do. I expect she will hate me.” She rose from her chair. “How much time have I until you speak with him?”
“Given the circumstances, I should like to speak with him at once. You will have an appropriate length of courtship. No need to set tongues wagging more than they’re already bound to do. But I do wish to see you settled as soon as possible.” Her brother came to her then and took her in his arms as he had not done in years.
She returned his embrace, taking strength in the comfort he provided. She’d thought he would be enraged upon learning the truth and was most relieved he was relatively calm. Perhaps love had settled his restless spirit. She had to admit that she admired Cleo very much and thought her an excellent match for her sometimes austere brother.
Thornton kissed her on the forehead and Bella reached up to press a hand to his cheek. “I’m sorry for disappointing you, Thornton,” she murmured.
“You haven’t disappointed me at all, Bella.” He smiled slightly. “Not a whit. I would expect nothing less than for you to follow your heart. It is the example I set for you, after all.”
Follow your heart. She returned his smile as best she could muster. Tears pricked her eyes. “Thank you for your kindness. You are a true brother.”
He tipped up her chin, answering tears gleaming in his eyes. “If he hurts you again, I shall kill him. He will understand it to be so.”
How she wished for her life to be different. How she wished she could go back to the carefree girl she’d been at Wilton House. Catching a sob in her throat, she spun and took her leave from the room before she embarrassed herself.
Jesse came to her the next morning. He’d been notably absent from dinner, but she had gathered it was by design. The de Vere family had shared one final meal with one another before everything was to change.
She was in the library, doing her utmost to concentrate on The Eustace Diamonds, a volume she’d been unable to thoroughly enjoy ever since the country house party. He entered without ceremony, without being announced. But she sensed him the moment he entered the cavernous room. She was attuned to him. That much she could not deny.
Knowing she would face him that day, she had dressed with care. She wore a morning gown of cream satin designed by Worth. It was simple in its beauty, with one long pleated bustle, a line of pearl buttons down the bodice, and lace trim with a cutaway skirt. Smith had braided her hair into a loose coronet with a few dreamy tendrils released to frame her face. She knew she was handsome, but that knowledge did little to bolster her flagging spirits.
He stopped halfway across the chamber, taking her in. Their gazes clashed. Had she not already been seated, she feared her knees would have quite buckled. He looked very fine indeed, dressed in an elegant black coat with matching trousers. His hair had grown rather long, she noted for the first time, scraping his collar. Goodness, he was still the most striking man she’d ever seen.
“Lady Bella,” he said at last, offering a deep bow.
“Mr. Whitney,” she greeted, finding her voice, breathless though it inexplicably was. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, my dear.” He rose and favored her with a smile that unleashed his elusive dimple. “May I approach?”
His formality struck her as almost absurd and yet she sensed that he was trying his best to make what was about to unfold as appropriate as possible. “You may,” she said, equally formal. She closed her book and put it to the side as he crossed the carpets.
Her mind went back to the other, far more carefree times when they’d met in libraries. Her heart gave a pang. How she wished they could somehow return to those times. She simply wasn’t certain it would ever be possible. Nothing could erase the pain of his betrayal. Nothing could alter the course upon which they’d already set sail.
When he reached her, he sank to his knees like a knight paying homage to a fair maiden. She would have appreciated the sweetness of his gesture had not the circumstances been so very grave.
“Lady Arabella de Vere, I have wronged you and for that I am endlessly sorry. I will not insult you by begging your forgiveness because I understand you owe me nothing.”
“Why play the role of dutiful suitor?” Her heart and mind were at a loss. He knew well how to charm her, but she was determined not to allow him to woo her this time. She wanted a lucid mind. Goodness, she needed time to process what had befallen her in the last day. “Surely it will not serve you now.”
“I’ve earned your cynicism,” he surprised her by saying. “I told you once that I’m not fit to lick your boots, and it is not any less true today than it was then. You are my better in every way. I do not deserve you as my wife, and yet fate has decreed I must ask your hand.”
“Fate has not decreed,” she corrected him, not willing to abandon her defenses. “You have decreed it.”
“As have you,” Jesse pointed out to her.
It was true. She had done her best to win his heart, all but throwing herself at him. “I own my part in this farce of ours. But I never sought to entrap you.”
As he had done to her. The accusation hung unspoken between them.
His eyes hardened. “If you can tell me with honesty that you love the duke and wish to pursue him, tell me now.”
She stared at him, knowing she could not.
“Say the words, Bella. I will not have a wife who loves another.”
“I cannot,” she admitted softly.
He took her hands in his. “Will you be my wife?”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “It seems I have no choice.”
“You may decline if you like.” His voice was harsh, even bitter perhaps.
Of course she could deny him. But what would doing so accomplish? Only more foolish ruin and misery for her.
“You know as well as I that I cannot,” she argued. “You’ve rendered any path other than marriage with you impossible for me.”
“Hate me if you must. I know all too well I have earned your scorn, but I still require a definitive answer from you. Will you or will you not wed me?”
She did not hate him, not at all. She was still hurt by his defection and the months of silence that lay between them. She was confused by his assertion that he’d left a letter with his manservant and had written her dozens more. It made no sense, but then, neither did his sudden reappearance in her life.
All in all, she didn’t know precisely what it was she did feel for him, which was the crux of the matter. She supposed that perhaps she shouldn’t care since the white flag had already been raised. “Yes,” she said simply, surrendering.
He brought her hands to his lips for a kiss. “I will be true to you, Bella. I promise to do my utmost to make amends for what I’ve done.”
Bella wasn’t certain he could make amends, but there was some comfort in knowing he intended to try. “As will I be true to you,” she returned.
Jesse leaned into her skirts, and she could clearly tell his intent was to kiss her. Even as her heart tripped over itself in excitement, she turned her cheek, leaving him with no option other than pressing a chaste kiss there instead. But he lingered, his breath fanning in a hot wave over her face, down her neck. He kissed her again, his palms coming between them to cup her jaw. With a gentle deliberation, he turned her face until their gazes met and their lips nearly touched.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
His admission shook her. How she wanted to believe there was more to his hasty actions than misplaced honor. How she longed to believe he harbored tender feelings for her, mayhap even loved her as he’d claimed to her brother. And she had missed him as well, she realized, allowing herself to feel some of the emotions her stubborn heart had locked away. She still wanted him with an ache that was as physical as it was intangible. She was startled to realize that while she’d thought so much had changed for her in his absence, in actuality, it had not.
Bella couldn’t seem to keep her hands from caressing his beloved face. She searched his gaze, unable to determine what she found in the sky-blue depths. “Jesse.” When she would have said more, the words were lost to a sob she hadn’t known she’d been withholding. Truth be told, she’d been utterly lost without him.
“Don’t cry, my darling,” he murmured.
She couldn’t seem to stop the tears that began streaming down her cheeks. Her entire body shook with the power of her confused emotions. He crushed her to him and kissed her at last. Being in the secure strength of his arms was like a homecoming. His mouth slanted over hers and she opened to him. The familiar taste of him mingled with the salt of her tears. He kissed her as he’d never before kissed her, at once tender and yet hungry, with a newfound possessiveness.
He pulled back, breathing as heavily as she. He brushed a runaway tendril of hair from her face. “Bella, my love. You have made me a happy man.”
The term of endearment was not lost on her. Against the stern misgivings in her mind, she leaned into him, taking his lips for her own this time. Their tongues tangled. She inhaled deeply, filling herself with the scent that was uniquely his and uniquely divine. The kiss turned voracious. Her fingers sank into his thick golden hair. God, how she had missed him.
How she loved him still.
The horrible realization sent her reeling. Suddenly, it was all too much for her. She shoved him away and retreated back into the upholstery of the settee. Gasping for breath, she pressed a hand to her swollen mouth. What had she been thinking to allow such liberties between them? She could not afford to blindly trust in him again. When he’d left it had nearly killed her.
“I shall need time, Jesse,” she said at last. “I am sorry.”
“I understand. Forgive me. I didn’t intend for that to happen.”
She believed him. The sudden combustion between them had been as mutual as it had been unexpected. She lowered her head to gaze at her hands, tightly laced in her lap lest she be tempted to touch him again.
“I have a ring for you,” Jesse said, reaching into his coat. “Christ, I’d almost forgotten. I hope you find it to your liking.”
He took her hand again, slipping a ruby ring upon her finger. The stone itself was breathtaking, quite large and deep in color. It nestled in an elaborate setting of filigree. The fit was perfect. Their betrothal was sealed.
“It is lovely, thank you.” She hadn’t thought about a ring, and now everything seemed much more final.
“It belonged to my mother,” he told her, his tone turning wistful. “Though I never knew her, I was told she was a strong and beautiful woman, just as you are.”
Despite her best attempts to harden her heart, she was secretly thrilled that he would entrust his mother’s ring to her. “I shall treasure it always.”
He raised her hand to his lips for another kiss. “Thank you, Bella. I love you more than I can say, my darling.”
His pronouncement produced a visceral reaction in her. He had never told her he loved her before, and the weakest part of her was overjoyed. He had nothing to gain now. She had already acquiesced. But that didn’t mean she trusted him. Or should trust him, for that matter. She had to keep a clear head.
She did not wish for their conversation to become too sentimental. Exercising prudence, she turned her mind to another topic. “There is still much for us to discuss if we are to form an alliance. I should like to make the acquaintance of your daughter.”
He smiled, his dimple becoming pronounced once more. “I would dearly love for you to meet Clara. She is a victim in all of this mayhem too.”
For the first time, the fact that he had a daughter became real to her. She hadn’t wanted to think of her, not even by name. Her existence had been too painful to contemplate. “I look forward to meeting her.” Surprisingly, she did. After all, the girl would be a part of her married life. She could not help the frustrating circumstances of her birth and life.
“Your brother wishes a socially acceptable length of courtship, so I expect we shall have time aplenty to spend together.” He kissed her hand again. “I will make this up to you, Bella. I vow it.”
As he took his leave of her, she hoped he was right.
will not allow it!” The dowager punctuated her proclamation with an uncharacteristically childish stomp of her foot. “Absolutely not, Thornton. She. May. Not.”
Bella winced as her brother sighed and closed his eyes, clearly trying to gather his patience as much as his wits. The deed was done. Bella was officially to become Mrs. Jesse Whitney. They had reserved the most troublesome portion of the process for last. Informing the dowager that her daughter was to be given in marriage to an American was not exactly unfolding with the grace Bella and Thornton would have preferred. To say their mother was in high dudgeon was a vast understatement.
The dowager was positively livid. “An American, of all things. She was within reach of a coronet. She was to have been a duchess!” She let out a low, funereal moan. “Have you any idea how close she’s come to getting what she deserves? I’ve been reading his letters, and I tell you that he was about to propose!”
“You read my letters from the duke?” Bella stared at her mother in shock. The dowager had been rummaging through her private correspondence? The letters had always been sealed. Bella hadn’t suspected for a moment. How dare she? Her indignation was lost, however, as her brother took the reins of the conversation.
“Mother, cease your howling at once,” Thornton ordered. “Bella, her ladyship is deplorably calculating and you ought to have known that by now. Both of you, I have made my decision, and that is final.”
“Decision? You dare to suggest you have deliberated upon this, this farce? Why, it is insupportable. I fear your alliance with that woman has rendered you quite mad.” The dowager’s expression was as intense
as her tone. Never mind the presence of “that woman” in the chamber in which they all sat. “Perhaps you have fallen into drink as I often feared you would. Next I shall be visiting you as you die of delirium tremens in a hospital for the poor.”
Bella cast her sister-in-law an apologetic glance. Cleo shrugged and gamely rolled her eyes, well accustomed to the dowager’s antics.
“Spare me your temperance society ramblings and theatrics,” Thornton bit out. “Apologize to my wife, if you please.”
“Thornton,” the dowager protested, her chin actually trembling as if she might burst into a fit of hysterical tears at any moment.
“Apologize.”
“Very well.” She sniffed, her chin instantly ceasing to tremble. “I am sorry, Lady Thornton, for abusing you in the heated thrall of my soliloquy.”
“No insult taken, madam,” Cleo murmured, giving Bella a quick wink.
Bella was grateful for Cleo’s calming presence. Her mind was still whirling with the sudden changes the last few hours had wrought upon the rest of her life. She had been dreading her mother’s reaction to the news with a ferocity that was unmatched.
“You cannot want to wed him, Bella?” Her mother turned on her with a look of expectation. “You cannot want to live in a land of rabid kangaroos and insects the size of horses. Why, they have monstrous creatures there. I’ve heard they possess horrid diseases that make men lose their ears. I daresay the Lord will see fit to sink the entire island into the sea.”
“Maman,” Bella said, not knowing where to begin, “America is not an island.”
“It is unseemly to contradict one’s mother.” The dowager harrumphed. “I asked you a question, daughter. Do you truly wish to wed that man?”
Would that the answer was uncomplicated and unencumbered by weighty emotions and doubt. But she knew what she must do. She could not marry the duke, and the plain truth of it was that she’d been writing him as much the day before when Cleo had rushed into her chambers. Jesse Whitney had not changed her heart, even if he had forced her into being his wife. “I do wish it, Maman. If it causes you distress, I apologize, but I must do what is right.”
Rebel Love (Heart's Temptation Book 2) Page 21
