“The Duke of Devonshire requests to pay a call to you, my lady.”
Devonshire? Bella couldn’t have been more surprised if the butler had announced Saint Peter was in the front hall. After she had politely declined his suit, she’d never received another letter from him. She snatched her spectacles from her nose and dropped them into the open page of her book.
“Do show him in, Jackson,” she instructed.
The butler bowed, returning forthwith to present the duke. Devonshire smiled when he saw her. He was dressed in gray and looked quite dapper sporting a new goatee. She offered him a matching smile, genuinely happy to see him. Although she’d never harbored romantic feelings for him, he had become something of a friend. She’d missed his letters.
“Your Grace,” she greeted when Jackson had once more discreetly disappeared. “What brings you here to my humble little piece of London?”
He bowed and crossed the room to take her offered hand and bring it to his lips for a quick buss. “Your piece of London is hardly humble, as you must know, nor is it little. I expect your husband is putting his American millions to good use here. As for why I’ve come, surely you must know, my lady.”
She studied him, perplexed. “Must I?”
“Yes.” He seated himself on a divan. “It is you, of course.”
Good heavens. He didn’t mean to continue pursuing her, did he? Why, she was a married woman now. “Me?” she nearly squeaked.
He raised a brow. “You needn’t look so concerned, my dear. I come as a friend, nothing more.”
“Of course,” she said, feeling foolish. “I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.”
“I merely wished to offer my felicitations on your nuptials.”
“Thank you.” Belatedly, she recalled her role as hostess. “Would you care for some tea?”
“I can’t abide the stuff myself,” he said easily. “I suppose it’s against the grain, but there you have it.”
“Something stronger? Spirits, perhaps?”
“None for me, thank you. I never partake before dinner.” His smile faded at last. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen you, and I must say the time has done well by you.” He paused, seeming to choose his next words with delicacy. “When last we met, you confided in me that your heart already belonged to another. I trust Mr. Whitney is the man to whom you’d already given your heart?”
“He is,” she confirmed, feeling awkward at discussing the man she loved with the man who had once desired to marry her. She wondered again why he had come. He’d said she was the reason, but she could not offer him anything in that regard. “I hope you know how very much I enjoyed your friendship, Your Grace. I was honored that you wanted me as your wife.”
“Honored.” His tone was wry. “That’s never the sort of thing a man wants to hear, even if it’s too late for him to press his suit either way.”
“I’m sorry.” She meant the words. The duke was a very different man than she’d initially supposed, and he would make a fine husband to a woman one day.
“You needn’t be, my dear. Fortune has a way of spinning her wheel in the direction things are meant to be.” He paused. “Are you happy now, Lady Bella?”
Not entirely. In truth, she was quite conflicted. She loved Jesse. She knew he loved her. But yet for all that they were husband and wife, somehow they still remained two halves instead of one whole. The underlying suspicion that he was keeping something from her simply wouldn’t be dashed away.
“You haven’t answered my question,” the duke persisted. “Are you happy?”
“Yes.” She hesitated. “I am quite happy. Of course I am.”
“Then I must be content.” His tone held a tinge of sadness. “I wish you nothing but the best, Lady Bella.”
She felt for him. He was a kind man and a gentle soul. “And I wish the same for you, Your Grace.”
“I appreciate your generosity, my lady.” He inclined his head. “I wonder if we may continue our correspondence. I find I miss your lively banter and keen insight. Your knowledge of Trollope is unsurpassed.”
Bella pondered his request. While she hated to sever the ties of their friendship, it would undoubtedly be best. She didn’t wish for him to think she was the sort of lady who would indulge in love outside the marital bed. “I’m not sure that would be very wise,” she said finally.
“I understand. Pray, forgive me for even asking. It is merely that I found a kindred soul in you, and it is such a rare thing in these times of ours that I hated to think of losing it.” He stood, looking awkward. “I’ll take my leave of you. I apologize for the intrusion.”
“Yours was not an intrusion, truly,” she hastened to assure him as she too stood. “You’ve been a good friend to me, Your Grace. For that, I will always be most grateful.”
He closed the distance between them and took her hands in his, his intense gaze meeting hers. “If ever your circumstance should alter, I am, as ever, yours. I admire you very much, Lady Bella. While I still think we could have made a brilliant match, I am willing to concede defeat. I pray your husband knows what a fortunate man he is.”
His kind words touched her. Acting on impulse, she gave him a quick embrace. “Thank you, Your Grace. You must know that I admire you also, and shall always remember you fondly.”
He returned her embrace for a moment before breaking away to drop a chaste kiss upon her forehead. “Just as I shall always remember you, my dear. I wish you happy.”
“Duke, to what do we owe the honor of your visit?”
With a start, Bella stepped away from the duke to see her husband stalking into the drawing room. The expression upon his handsome face was hard indeed. He didn’t appear pleased to find Devonshire in his drawing room. Bella felt guilty even though she knew she had no reason to do so.
“Mr. Whitney,” the duke greeted, sounding as shaken as Bella felt. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. I merely called to pay my respects to Lady Bella.”
Jesse’s jaw was as rigid as his expression. “I’m sure Mrs. Whitney was pleased to see you again.”
The emphasis he placed upon her new surname was not lost upon Bella. Her husband was marking her, reminding Devonshire that she now belonged to him and always would. And he notably refrained from saying he was pleased to see the duke again. The temperature in the drawing room had become decidedly frosty. Oh dear.
“Her ladyship has been a cherished friend and correspondent to me these last few months,” the duke said, seemingly unruffled by Jesse’s menacing stance. “I sought to offer my congratulations on your marriage. I’m glad to see her well settled.”
“Yes, she’s very well settled now,” Jesse gritted.
The two men were eying one another like a pair of bears about to tear each other to pieces. Bella decided it was imperative for her to step into the fray lest it become a melee. She stepped between them with a bright smile pinned to her lips that she didn’t quite feel. “His Grace was just leaving, but it was so lovely of him to drop by, wasn’t it?”
She met her husband’s gaze, sending him a clear message with her eyes. She saw the moment he relented but knew he still wasn’t exactly delighted with her. Very likely, he’d witnessed her embrace with Devonshire, and although her feelings for the duke were purely platonic, the expression on Jesse’s face said he wasn’t convinced.
“Indeed, we appreciate the call, Your Grace,” he offered finally, his tone dismissive.
Devonshire bowed. “Take good care of her, Whitney. If you don’t, there will be repercussions.”
“I don’t take threats kindly, and I have no intention of doing anything other than taking good care of my wife, Devonshire,” Jesse returned evenly, the leash on his anger looking shorter by the minute. “If I ever hurt her, I’ll be the first to kick my own arse.”
The duke bowed again, cutting a somber, lonely figure. “Good day, Mr. Whitney, Lady Bella.”
With that, he took his leave of the drawing room. Bella was left to face her agi
tated husband alone. “I’m sorry, Jesse. I didn’t know he would be calling on me.”
His face remained impassive. “Forgive me if I don’t like my wife’s old suitors appearing uninvited in my drawing room.”
“He’s not an old suitor,” she denied. “He was a friend, nothing more.”
He raised a brow, looking every inch the arrogant nobleman he’d made himself. “A friend you were preparing to wed, Bella. A friend I just now saw you embracing.”
So he had seen after all. Bella’s face flushed. “It was not romantic in nature.”
“Precisely what was it, then?”
She stared, the complex emotions that had blossomed to life within her suddenly crashing over her like a waterfall. He was scarcely even a presence in her life beyond the bedchamber and the breakfast table, and yet he dared to suspect her of wrongdoing? “Why do you even care?” she demanded, unbearably frustrated with him.
“Why do I care?” His voice was cold, laced with fury. “You’re my wife, damn you, and I don’t want to come home to the Duke of Dullness attempting to make love to you.”
“He was doing no such thing.” Bella’s patience snapped. “How dare you accuse me when you’re the one who is never at home?”
He frowned. “I’m at home every day.”
“For how long?” The hurt she’d been attempting to keep tucked away at last surfaced. “A few hours in the evening? Sometimes I scarcely even get to see you at breakfast. I swear I saw more of you at Wilton House than I’ve done in all the weeks of our marriage.”
“I cannot be forever stitched to your side, Bella,” he countered, raking a hand through his hair. “Wilton House was a brief idyll away from the world, but I’ve businesses to run. I trust I didn’t mislead you in that respect. This house and all its upkeep must be bought somehow, and I’ve no ancient English estate to rely upon.”
He made her sound like a spoiled lady of privilege, something she’d taken great pride in believing she was not. “Of course I know that you must tend to your business. I well understand you have responsibilities, but you also have a responsibility to me and to Clara. I’ve grown terribly lonely.”
His eyes darkened. “Is that why you had the duke come calling?”
She hadn’t wanted to make a row of it with him, but it would appear as if she must. Feeling weary, Bella sighed. “I didn’t invite the duke here. He came of his own volition. But I was glad for the company. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve married an utter stranger. I never imagined our married life would be governed by business and absences.”
“What are you saying, Bella?” His expression was a hard mask appearing as if it were about to crack. His voice was as tight as a cinched corset. “I want to be perfectly clear.”
She paused, taking great pains to carefully phrase the tumult of emotions swirling within her. She very much did not want to hurt him, but neither could she deny the restlessness and deep unhappiness that threatened to envelop her. “You’re keeping something from me, Jesse. I know it.”
“Where the hell is all this coming from?” he asked, crossing the carpet until he stood before her. “You seemed happy enough this morning. What did that bastard say to you?”
“This has nothing to do with the duke. I’ve been feeling this way for some time, but I’ve been trying to make the best of our situation,” she admitted. “You’ve almost grown more distant since we wed. It’s simply not right between us. Surely you know it as well as I do, Jesse. For some reason, you insist on keeping yourself apart from me.”
“Like hell I do.” He raked a hand through his already-disheveled hair yet again. “I’m trying to build you the life you deserve.”
“You’re so distant. I—” she faltered, searching for the proper words. “I’ve grown most discontented. I don’t wish to feel that way any longer.”
“Ah, and there’s the crux of it.” The smile he gave her held little warmth. “Perhaps now that the adventures of courtship are over, you’ve decided you’re weary with real life. You want the excitement and romance of your books. You want your escape.”
Did she want escape? Her heart kicked into a frantic pace at the mere thought. Did she truly want to live separate lives as many of the Marlborough House set? Of course not. She loved Jesse. She only wanted him to be open with her, to hold her through the night if she asked it of him, to turn back into the devoted lover he’d been. Although she had known marriage would be different than courtship, somehow the intimacy they’d shared during that time had dissipated. She wanted to regain what they’d lost.
He tipped up her chin, his touch firm, almost punishing. “Do you know what I think, my dear?”
She swallowed, barely able to shake her head. She was trapped in the stormy depths of his eyes. Never had she seen her husband this angered, his entire being nearly vibrating with fury. She knew a moment of fear, not of his physical strength but of what her words could do to them. Once spoken, they couldn’t be taken back. She didn’t want to damage their love. She couldn’t bear to lose him.
“I think that for all you raged at me about our age difference, you are, in the end, just a spoiled girl. You wanted something you couldn’t have, and now that you’ve gotten it, you don’t want it,” he accused, sounding bitter.
“That’s not true,” she denied, anger kicking back up within her. How dare he call her a spoiled girl? Before she could rethink the wisdom of what she was about to say, she plowed onward, seeking to harm him as he had wounded her. “Everything changed when you left me. Maybe you should not have come back. I begin to fear I would have been happier with the duke.”
He released her, visibly recoiling from the shock of her words. “If that is how you feel, perhaps you should take him as a lover.”
“Maybe I shall. It certainly seems as if you cannot stand the sight of me,” she tossed back at him in anger. “You can’t even remain in the same chamber as I for longer than an hour.”
The moment the words left her lips, she wished she could recall them. Of course she didn’t mean them, not one whit. But he had pushed her to the cliffs of her patience and then she’d fallen over the edge. How easy it could be to wound the people one loved the most. Love should have been easy, but instead it was proving the most difficult part of her life. Still, she knew it could also be the most rewarding.
“You’ll do no such thing.” He caught her elbows in his grasp and pulled her into his chest. “You’re my wife, damn you.”
“Then why are you so insistent upon pushing me away?” she demanded, nearing desperation.
“You’re doing the pushing, Bella, not I.”
She was determined to pursue her course now that the die was cast. “Where do you go when you leave my bed?”
He stilled, seemingly startled by her question. “To my chamber. I’ve already told you.”
“That’s a lie,” she countered. “I’ve checked. You’re never there.”
“Sometimes I have a brandy and soda-water before bed,” he said, but there was an air of dishonesty to his explanation.
Suddenly, it occurred to her that he’d been doing an excellent job of avoiding her since their marriage had begun. Why? Was he hiding something far more sinister than old secrets? She searched his face for some hint of the truth. Dear heavens, she couldn’t bear it if everything she’d held true was actually a lie.
“Do you have a paramour?” she asked, afraid to ask but afraid not to.
“Jesus. Of course not, Bella. What do you take me for?”
“I’m sorry,” she hastened to say, guilt lacing through her for even doubting him for a moment.
Suddenly, his gaze strayed to a point over her shoulder. Heart in her slippers, she turned to find Clara hovering on the threshold. Her face was pinched, and Bella knew she’d been listening to their row for far longer than she should’ve been. Blessed angels, the last thing she needed was her stepdaughter as an audience to her folly.
“Clara,” she managed to say in a cheerful voice even if she couldn�
��t quite shake the tremor in her voice. “Please do come in.”
“I finished my lessons early,” the girl murmured.
“How wonderful.” Bella pasted a smile to her lips that she didn’t feel. “You are just in time for tea. I believe your father will be joining us. Won’t you, Jesse?”
He shook his head, looking lost, his expression tighter than ever. “I’m afraid I can’t stay. I’ve business to attend to.”
Business once more. She stiffened. “I see. Then it shall be only Clara and I for tea.”
Again. The unspoken word lay heavy between them. Jesse caught her gaze, seemingly torn, before he bowed and left the room. She wished she hadn’t accused him of having a mistress. She knew very well he was bound to her alone. But even so, their ship couldn’t sail in two different directions, she thought grimly as she watched him go. There could only be one captain, one course. Something would have to give, and she certainly hoped it wouldn’t be their hull.
Bella sipped her tea in Lady Stokey’s drawing room. It was a rare respite from the tedium of her days spent overseeing finishing lessons for Clara and approving menus with Mrs. Beeton. She’d grown quite close to Tia, as she was more familiarly known to her intimate circle, and she was grateful for her friendship now more than ever. With her sister-in-law Cleo still in the countryside and no other close friends, Tia had become her sole confidante.
“Your stepdaughter is rather a spitfire,” Tia said, taking a dainty sip of her tea.
“I should have warned you.” Bella smiled, replacing her cup in its saucer with a delicate rattle. “She can be a handful at times, but believe it or not, her demeanor has greatly improved since our first meeting.”
“I shudder to think what she was like then,” Tia quipped. “But I do like the girl. She reminds me of myself when I was her age.” She paused, considering Bella. “You’re looking rather Friday-faced today. Why?”
Bella bit her lip. She hadn’t realized she was that obvious. More than a sennight had passed since her angry confrontation with Jesse in the drawing room, and he hadn’t come to her in the evening. Not even once. If she’d felt a chasm between them before, there was now an entire river valley. Perhaps even a vast ocean. She knew she was partly to blame for it, but she wasn’t willing to claim complete responsibility.
Rebel Love (Heart's Temptation Book 2) Page 26
