Lady Bess

by Claudy Conn

  “Aye, then, soak for as long as the water remains hot, lass. It will do ye good.”

  She heard him stride away and sighed to herself, thinking about his arms holding her as he carried her upstairs.

  His teasing could have been taken as the affectionate teasing of a child, yet she sensed he felt more, much more.

  However, what she wanted from him was more. She felt an all-consuming love for him, and she wanted him to feel the same.

  She wanted him to be devastated by his love for her. She wanted him brought to his knees with adoration. She wanted …

  Oh, heaven help her, she wanted him, all of him, his kisses, his touching, his naked body next to hers, and those words, those enchanting words, the ones she was fairly certain he had never uttered to any other woman.

  When she had told Donna how she felt about the earl, what sinful things she had been dreaming, Donna had shrugged and told her it was natural and she shouldn’t worry about it. But she did, because it wasn’t just fantasy; it was genuine desire working her and driving her forward to one place: bed—regardless of the consequences.

  And her motives weren’t pure. She was honest enough to admit to herself that she wondered if she could make him fall in love with her if she were desirable and irresistible in his bed.

  Her body ignited into burning flames as these thoughts played out. She was young, she was beginning to need a man, and he was the man her heart had chosen.

  She wished he had kissed her. Why hadn’t he kissed her when they were alone in his bedroom? Why hadn’t he tried to make love to her? Why? Because he doesn’t really want you, came the unwanted answer.

  The other night you were probably just convenient, nothing more. After all, that is what he is, isn’t it? A libertine, or so they have called him.

  ~ Sixteen ~

  THE LITTLE PARTY at Searington had enjoyed a light dinner together, although Robby had complained throughout before solving his problem by doubling up on dessert. They then repaired to the library, where an inviting fire made Bess sigh contentedly and sink onto the comfortable sofa to stare into the flames. She had quite a bit to think about.

  Thomas had been allowed a game of Ducks and Drakes until, exhausted, everyone had cried uncle and Maddy came to the rescue, telling him he had had quite a long day and ’twas time for bed. She bade everyone good night and left them to enjoy their after-dinner drinks.

  Robby was sipping his brandy when he turned suddenly and told the earl, “Didn’t want to say this in front of the boy, but I tell you what, John—I have quite decided that someone needs bloodletting!”

  All eyes opened wide as they regarded him, and the earl with a half smile said, “Indeed, I quite agree. The problem is we need to be certain first who that someone is.”

  “I think we all know who that someone is, but I understand you are speaking about proof,” Bess added. She was clothed in a velvet wrapper over her nightdress, as after her bath she had found it too painful to pull her evening dress on and had excused herself at dinner. She was quite comfortable and not ill at ease, as she also had a cream-colored knit shawl wrapped around her shoulders. In spite of these warm clothes and the fire at her elbow she felt a shiver scurry through her. “I am, however, at a loss as to how we may obtain any proof and finish the devil off.”

  “What a bloodthirsty lot I have.” The earl chuckled. “Aye, proof will be tricky, but doona think we won’t have it, and soon.” He eyed Bess thoughtfully and said, “Ye will jot off a note to Mary Russell and tell her as we discussed that we have the boy safe and sound but suffering the ills of his experience. Let it be known that we have had m’personal doctor visiting me from London see to him, and he says the boy canna have visitors.” He looked at Robby. “Ye will make certain no one enters this house while I am away.”

  Robby pulled himself up, and Bess was surprised at the sternness of his expression. “You can put a wager on it and be safe in the winning.”

  Bess returned her attention to the earl. “Away? You are going away now? I didn’t realize you would be going so soon. How long will you be gone?”

  He smiled at her sweetly. “Only for the day, but I don’t expect to be back until nightfall tomorrow.” He lowered his voice and asked in an odd tone, “Will ye miss me, lass?”

  She nodded, and said simply, “Yes, yes I will.”

  He eyed her and frowned. “Och, lass, what is wrong with me? Ye look fatigued, and ’tis time ye turned in. Ye’ll need yer strength to heal.”

  She was looking forward to this, for she was sure he meant to carry her back upstairs, as he had come to her room earlier and insisted on carrying her down the stairs, saying he wasn’t taking any chances she might be too weak and fall.

  Bess sighed and started to get up, but he put out a hand as he rushed to her side and spoke only to her, “Whist, m’bonnie lass. I canna let ye climb the stairs yet—ye must know that?”

  She smiled sweetly at him, and he scooped her up as though she were a feather weight. As she called out good night, she caught Donna’s eyes rolling as well as the startled expression in Robby’s face.

  She laughed silently as she wondered what they must be thinking, but if she thought she was going to get the passionate kiss she had been hoping for, she was wrong—so wrong.

  He placed her on her bed in a sitting position and murmured, “Sleep well, lass.”

  She didn’t answer but gave him what she thought was a sensual and inviting look. However, he merely laughed and touched her nose, backed away a step, and then started off.

  She frowned as she watched his back, and then he turned, his blue eyes filled with something that gave her hope. He said, “Robby is right, ye know. There will be bloodletting for this work, mark me on it.”

  And then he was gone. Bess sighed to herself, and though she thought she would never sleep, she fell right off and into a deep sleep.

  * * *

  The earl left her with his insides in a turmoil.

  The lass was hurting though she tried not to show it, and it made him rage internally. He wanted to march right over to Mary Russell’s house, take Bernard Holland by the collar, drag him outside, and beat the pulp out of him. He wanted to do this so badly that he felt his teeth grind. He could almost taste the satisfaction it would give him.

  But that would be a momentary satisfaction, and what he needed was a permanent solution to the present problem.

  Thomas needed a permanent solution.

  He liked the young lad and had gone in earlier to wish him a good sleep. The boy had apparently taken to him and stalled him as he left, saying, “My lord, may I tell you something I couldn’t tell Lady Bess?”

  The earl turned back into the room and sat at the edge of the four-poster bed. He smiled as reassuringly as he could and said, “Of course, Master Thomas.”

  The lad smiled sadly and said, “My father found me a few years ago, you see. He didn’t know about me till m’mum wrote to him that she was dying and asked if he would come for me.” Thomas looked down at nothing in particular and then brought up his eyes to those of the earl’s. “I loved my father at once, and we well, he … I … he is my very best friend in all the world. There is no other like him.” Thomas sighed heavily. “I knew something was wrong the day the doctor came. I knew it. So I listened in, and I heard the doctor telling him how ill he was … and that he didn’t have long.” He paused. “I went in and asked my father to tell me what was wrong because I knew it was bad, very bad.”

  “And he told you?” The earl touched the boy’s shoulder, as he already had a feeling just what it might be.

  “Yes, he told me he was gravely ill. He said he had made sure that I carried his name even though …” He blushed furiously. “Even though he and m’mum weren’t married. And then he said he wasn’t going to get well, that he would get sicker, and he didn’t want me to watch him die.” A tear rolled down the boy’s face, and the earl gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “He made arrangements for me to go to Mary Russell
.” Thomas shrugged. “I don’t think he wanted me around anymore.”

  “He loves ye more than himself, lad. I’m certain he had a difficult time parting with ye, but no doubt wanted to spare ye the pain of watching him suffer over a period of time. Your father is a selfless and brave man,” the earl said directly and frankly. As far as he was concerned, Thomas had been through enough. He needed the facts, not the hurt of worrying that his father didn’t want him.

  The boy looked at the earl thoughtfully. “Yes, my father is a brave man, I think.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t tell Lady Bess—she would have been very distressed—but here is the thing. I am telling you, because I want to go back to him. I want to be with him, regardless of what he says. I know that it is very disobedient of me and don’t wish to distress him, but I can’t bear not to be with him at such a time. I was hoping when I got to Mary’s that I would be able to talk her into sending me home to him. She must know. He must have told her why he was sending me to her.”

  The earl went silent for a moment and then said, “I will see what I can do. In the meantime, we are keeping you here and telling Mary Russell a falsehood. Do you understand why?”

  “Because you don’t think she can keep me safe,” the lad said with wisdom far beyond his years.

  “Aye, that’s a lad. Ye will be safe here, though. But mind Lady Bess, right then?” As far as the earl was concerned, Bess was right when she had suggested that Mary was not a good judge of character if she didn’t see Holland for the villain that he must be.

  He made his way to his room and stood as he looked around. A few hours ago, he had wanted to strip the lass of her clothes, but he had remained a gentleman, unable to do what his entire body was begging him to do.

  He wanted to lay her down and look at her naked. He wanted to touch her pert nipples and suckle there before he made a trail of kisses down her midriff to her belly, and further. He wanted to spread her legs and tease her sweet honey nest with his tongue.

  Och, yes, ye want what ye want, but this time, John of Dunkirk, yer wanting is taking ye to a storm ye canna handle. Ye canna have this one. She deserves better than ye. She is a bonny lass, aye, as bonny a lass as ever there was one, but yer intentions are not respectable, and she deserves more, so much more.

  Control. He was practiced in the art of control. He didn’t allow the manhood between his thighs to lead him. No, he did not, but he knew that wasn’t stopping him right then. Right then, he couldn’t even think of really touching her while she was in pain. Would he be able to continue to stop himself from taking her to his bed when she was feeling more the thing? That was the question at hand.

  Or was the question did he want to stop himself?

  ~ Seventeen ~

  BESS, FEELING BETTER after her rest though still quite sore, was comfortably seated at the card table with Donna, Robby, and Thomas, playing a simple child’s card game, when the butler announced Mary Russell.

  Shock made them stare at one another for a moment. The earl had told his staff to await Lady Bess’s instructions before allowing any visitors to intrude on his guests, so they were safe for the moment, as the earl’s butler would no doubt hold Mary Russell at bay.

  They regarded one another, and Bess could feel the tension escalate as Robby stood up and growled, “If that toad is with her, I think I shall have a round with him.”

  “Hush, Robby,” Donna said, giving him a meaningful eye towards Thomas.

  Thomas felt the tension in the air and looked around, visibly distraught, as he asked, “What are we going to do? Lady Bess, I won’t go with her.”

  “You won’t have to, Tom, because you are upstairs, too ill to receive visitors. No one shall bother you while you are here at Searington with us. Understood?”

  He nodded, his eyes wide and his face solemn.

  She turned to Gideon, the Searington butler, and said, “If you will show Mrs. Russell into the parlor, we will be there in a moment, and thank you, Gideon.”

  The butler, an elderly man, inclined his head and closed the door at his back as Bess took Donna’s hand and said, “Well, then, I suppose, we must do this thing. Are you ready?”

  A moment later Donna and Bess entered the cozy parlor to find Mary Russell pacing by the window. Something about her seemed off to Bess, but she put on a smile and went forward, saying, “Please, Mary, do take a seat, and I shall call for refreshments.”

  “Refreshments? How can I when my poor cousin lies ill in your host’s home?” Mary said on a troubled frown.

  “Well, as to that, one must eat, and, faith, Thomas will make a recovery,” Bess returned.

  “I, for one, wouldn’t mind if we enjoyed some tea,” Donna said, apparently trying to appear at ease.

  “Take me to my cousin at once,” Mary said in a tone that was slightly edged with irritation.

  “Oh, did you not read the note I sent round to you? Aside from the fact that he is infectious, he cannot be disturbed. He is sleeping now, after a very bad night of nightmares and fever. The best thing you can do for your cousin is to leave him to rest.”

  “He can do so in my home, where he belongs, where his father meant him to be,” Mary snapped.

  Bess was surprised by the woman’s attitude. “That does not,” she said, squaring her shoulders, “sound very considerate to me. Thomas is resting, and we will not allow him to be disturbed. And as to his father sending him to you, here is a problem, as, you see, he did not reach you, did he?” Lady Bess watched the woman’s eyes. “No, he did not. I think that changes matters.”

  Mary stiffened, and her face was a mask of fury. “You are impertinent. I am his family. You are a stranger. This is unacceptable. I shall return for him in the morning, and be certain I shan’t leave without him.”

  “Really? We shall have to see about that,” said Lady Bess, her chin up. “And as to being family, as such, I would have thought you would have done more to find him.”

  “Humph!” Mary turned on her low-heeled shoes and stomped off, obviously very annoyed.

  Donna shrugged. “She doesn’t seem her usual sweet self, does she?”

  “Hmm, I suppose she is frustrated, and as she said, we are not family. But, Donna, I had the oddest feeling when I was speaking to her … and can’t quite put my finger on it. We of course are not looking for gratitude. We are not looking for thanks or wanting to sit down and having to relate how we found Thomas and under what conditions. Yet I find it odd that she did not express some thanks for his safe return and some curiosity as to who had him and where.”

  Donna gasped. “You are right. Oh dear, this grows darker, doesn’t it, Bess?”

  “It does, for my suspicions grow darker,” Bess answered.

  “Mine as well.” Donna nodded. “What is to do? We can only keep him away from her so long, and we can’t accuse Holland without some kind of evidence.”

  “I know. I am hoping when the earl returns … well, perhaps he will know what next is to be done.”

  “You know, when your father comes back here, he means to take you off to London,” Donna said with a question in her voice.

  “I know,” Bess said softly.

  “Well, Robby says we shall join you, as he says we should open our town house and enjoy the season for a time.”

  Bess reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Oh, thank you, Donna. I know Robby would rather travel to hell and back than spend a month in London. This is your doing, and I am ever so grateful, for I would be bored to tears without you in London.”

  “But, Bess, don’t you want to go to the routs and balls and meet someone suitable?”

  “No,” Bess said and sighed heavily.

  “Because …?”

  “Because I have met someone suitable.”

  Donna was moved to take her friend’s shoulder in both her hands and shake her. “Bess, Bess … I don’t know about this.”

  “Why, because you don’t think he cares for me?” Bess asked, feeling sick, because a chance e
xisted that she had been fooling herself into thinking he did care for her.

  “No, I think he does care—more than he wants to, and there is the crux of the problem. He doesn’t want to care. A lesser man would have thrown his single life to the winds by now and fallen a slave at your feet, Bess. I have witnessed the way he looks at you, and there is no doubt that he feels a great deal more than he means to admit to even himself. He won’t come up to scratch, Bess, and then what?”

  “Shall I tell you, my dear, dear heart, that I think he will, for if I tell you that, you will say I am not thinking clearly. Instead, I will say that I mean to do what I have to do and the future is the future. I can handle the outcome.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” Donna said, eyeing her.

  Bess laughed. “Come on—I have no doubt that by now Robby and Thomas are looking for something to eat!”

  * * *

  Restless, Bess pushed away her dinner plate and played with the pretty pearl ring her mother had given her when she had turned sixteen.

  Earlier, in the late afternoon, when high tea came and went and the earl had not returned, she had begun to pace. This did not satisfy her, so she took a long walk alone to sort out her thoughts. When she returned to the house and discovered he had not yet returned, she was aware that both her lips and her shoulders drooped.

  She told herself it was because she was so anxious to know the outcome of the earl’s travels, but she felt the weight of the truth.

  She had become far too attached to the Earl of Dunkirk and was fairly certain she would never feel this way again. This was not the discomfort of infatuation. Infatuation, she knew, would fade for a woman when she began to see the object of her affection lose his glow and become human. She, however, saw the earl with all his foibles. She saw his dark side as well as his good side and had weighed each in her mind. She knew she could not change him, did not in fact, wish to change him. She wanted him just the way he was.

  She was also aware that the earl, for her, always stood out like a glorious god, capable of deep, undivided love.