Illicit Love

by Jane Lark

  “What exists between us is not infatuation,” she hissed. “It is love—on both our parts, and no, I do not think he shall ever tire of it, as neither shall I. And if you do not like it, or me, my Lord, then once I have told Edward you will have to accept that my husband will no longer desire your friendship.”

  Her words were instilled with conviction. But it was a farce. Rupert had just kicked her rock from beneath her feet. Confidence, or rather the lack of it, was her Achilles heel. What if he was right?

  Looking away, Ellen fought to hide her alarm as the door opened, heralding Edward’s and his brother’s return, succinctly ending her tête-à-tête with his cousin.

  A waiter, bearing a bottle of champagne on ice and several glasses, followed Edward and Robert back into the box.

  Robert and his cousin had planned this, she realized. It was the purpose of their earlier whispers.

  When Robert offered her a glass she declined on principle, seething, incensed by Rupert’s cruel attack and Robert’s victimisation. She had offered him forgiveness. He had plotted against her again. Yet her vulnerability let Rupert’s damning words take hold. Once she had thought Edward’s devotion a symptom of his boredom and frustration, but that had been a lifetime ago.

  Has he not shown me his true affection dozens of times since? His cousin dislikes me, that is all. He is trying to separate us—just as Edward’s brother did at Farnborough. They are just trying to protect Edward.

  She suddenly felt like crying, shouting and crying. She did not wish to break up Edward’s family. They had reasons to dislike her, she knew, but she did not mean ill. She loved Edward. Could they not see that?

  Turning her eyes back to the stage as the bell rang to signal the end of the interval, she felt Edward’s touch rest on her shoulder. “Is something wrong? You do not want champagne?”

  She looked up at him and shook her head. “No, thank you, but I am fine, honestly.”

  His eyebrows lifted.

  She could see he knew she was not, but he said nothing more and a moment later when he returned to his seat she felt his fingers search for hers.

  This time she clung to him even harder than before as she watched the tragedy unfold before her on the stage.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Descending the stairs to the hall the next morning Ellen’s thoughts were reeling. Their theatre trip the night before had gone well enough, despite Rupert’s malicious taunts. She’d not been recognised. Not one person had batted an eyelid at her presence, but then she’d sought to remain unnoticed.

  On the way home she’d considered telling Edward the things Rupert had said, but she had not. And she’d thought of it all night too. But she could not cause more rifts in his family. Yet Rupert’s words still niggled.

  She walked across the hall to straighten the tulip heads in a vase, rearranging them for no other reason than she had nothing else to do. Edward had gone out early to meet her brothers-in-law, they were discussing an announcement Edward intended publishing to inform society of their marriage and therefore her reappearance. It left her at a loose end, with time on her hands. A book, she thought, refusing to let her mind dwell on Rupert’s assumptions. Reading would help quell her restlessness and absorb her traitorous thoughts. She knew in her heart Rupert’s words were nonsense, but her head, with all its learned insecurity, just seemed to keep chewing on them. Turning back she intended to head for the library but instead found herself facing a wall of muscle as Robert stood before her, hands on hips. Taking a step back, she tilted her gaze from his broad chest to his face, wary despite her bravado the day before when Edward was there.

  “Lord Barrington, I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were at home.” Her heartbeat kicked into a sharp, swift beat, as she waited for him to make the next move, whatever that would be.

  “Well, as you see, I am,” he answered bluntly, without his usual disrespectful humor. “I wish to speak with you. Will you come into my study?”

  His hand reached towards her.

  Ellen instinctively stepped back to avoid it and her buttocks hit the edge of the table the flowers stood upon, she gripped its rim.

  Robert’s eyes rolled upwards, his usual mocking air returning in a flash, clearly ridiculing her concern. Then his brown eyes focusing back on her, he said, “If I promise not to ravish you will you come?” his hand moving, this time he directed her to the room.

  Looking from his hand to his eyes Ellen sought some sign of his intention. Nothing in his gaze comforted or threatened. Ellen chose to be valiant and nodded, then turned. Though it was far easier to tell Edward, Robert meant well, than it was to trust him. Leaving a deliberate distance between them, she swept through the open door.

  The room was small and filled with bookcases. A large desk with an armchair on either side stood in its center. Bidding her sit, he shut the heavy oak door. It made her jump, but summoning up her courage she took a seat, perching on its edge, her fingers resting together in her lap.

  “I wished to speak to you of Edward,” he began, walking to the desk, but he didn’t go behind it and take a seat, leaving her staring up at him and feeling nervous.

  What was he about?

  “Yes.” Her voice was small.

  What new ploy was this?

  “I spoke to Rupert last night, after the theatre,” he continued, leaning his buttocks back against the lip of his desk, his fingers gripping the rim of it beside his hips as he spoke.

  Wary of his every movement she waited, listening.

  “We believe your affection for my brother is genuine.”

  Ellen felt her eyes widen as her gaze struck his. This was not what she’d expected.

  “I wish to apologize for my behaviour in Farnborough. I was not certain of your motivation. I thought the best and quickest way to unearth your true colors was to offer you a better deal. I’m sorry.” The business-like note was back in his voice. She’d not heard Edward’s brother speak with any seriousness before today.

  Ellen stood and moved behind her chair, setting a barrier between them as she gripped its back. “I told Edward as much,” she answered.

  His eyes fixing on her face, his eyebrows lifted.

  She dared to press on. “Perhaps it takes one person who carries guilt heavily to recognize another, my Lord. You did not fight back, not then, nor before in the drawing-room. You do care for Edward, I saw that, although he doubts it. But I know you goad him to make yourself feel better. You encourage his anger and hatred to ease your guilt. What I do not understand is why?”

  The man folded his arms over his chest but remained leaning back against his desk, watching her. He’d probably had a clear expectation of how this interview was to go and now she had contributed, he was at a loss. After a moment with a shake of his head his lips broke into a broad smile, and then he turned away from her.

  “A drink, Ellen?” he offered across his shoulder moving to a decanter.

  “No, thank you, my Lord.” She watched him pour one and drink it straight down. She understood then there were more anomalies buried inside him, things he kept hidden from Edward. But his secrets were his, not her concern.

  Turning back and looking at her, he smiled—his mocking, ironic smile.

  “Very observant of you, Ellen. You’re right of course. Much was put upon Edward because of me and now I seek to rectify it. And yes, it does satisfy me to spur his anger but that hardly matters, and don’t analyze it please, I am not interested in knowing why.”

  “But I do not understand why you going abroad would cause such a rift between you?” Ellen stepped towards him but stopped as the door opened.

  “Shall I answer that?” Edward entered, cutting into their conversation as he eyed his brother accusingly while moving to stand behind her. His possessive, protective hand settled on her hip and drew her back against him and his lips brushed a lock of her hair by her ear when he spoke. “My brother is very good at stirring up hornets’ nests and then running away, sweetheart. He left me
to face the consequences, while he fled to Europe on the back of debts which caused our father’s seizure, and eventually his death. I settled them and picked the estate up from its knees. Is that reason enough, darling?”

  Then in a more gentle voice he leaned to her ear and asked, “Has he hurt you, Ellen?”

  Before them, Robert smiled, sending Edward a look of acting distress. Ellen gave him a narrow eyed glare. The man was hardly ever serious, but she had seen a glimpse of what lay beneath and she knew how much he really cared despite this urge he had for provocation.

  “As you see, Ellen, he thinks badly of me no matter what I do.” Robert’s words answered her unspoken thought.

  Smiling shrewdly, she sought to remind him she knew his game. There was more to the tale he could add, she was sure, but it appeared he refused to tell. She would lay strong odds on the fact that he was not responsible for the situation as Edward saw it. No doubt some foolish notion of honour kept him silent. And on that thought she retorted, “Yet even so you do your best to prod him.” Mirroring his mocking tone and expression and allowing a humorous glint to light her eyes, she added, “For instance, as I recall, you did force yourself on me at Farnborough, so you hardly have reason to protest.” She turned in Edward’s arms then, facing him.

  “No, Edward, he has not harmed me. He was actually apologising.”

  “And as I said, Ellen, in my apology, my actions at Farnborough were only to test your intent. Well done by the way, you passed.”

  Hearing Robert move behind her, Ellen turned back, concerned he was leaving.

  As she did so, Edward, having obviously established her lack of concern, left her to cross the room, and walking towards the decanters spoke. “So Ellen said, but you could have just asked.”

  “That is hardly my style.” Robert laughed, his gaze passing from Edward to her and back as he remained hovering at the corner of his desk.

  Edward glanced sideways looking askance at his brother before turning to pour himself a drink. “Can you never be serious, Robert? If you are coming to Forth’s ball and that of Ellen’s sister, you shall have to promise not to stir things up.” His voice was at its most commanding. “I have enough to focus on without needing to keep an eye on you too.”

  “As if I would say anything to offend?” Holding up both hands, palms outward, Robert threw Edward a look, which ironically suggested he was a fool.

  “Lord Barrington,” Ellen challenged, urging him to be serious, but he stopped her, lifting his hand higher.

  “I told you, Edward, I came to help.” His voice mimicked his serious tone of before rather than spoke seriously, it was slack and not believable.

  Ellen looked at Edward. He was standing on the far side of the room, a glass in one hand, while his other arm lay across his chest. His entire body stated he did not believe a word Robert said.

  “Very well, whatever the history of this marriage of yours you have my backing.” Obviously seeing Edward’s disbelief too, Robert progressed, his tone slipping into a believable pitch. “I approve of your wife, as does Rupert I might add, having observed your wife’s ire on your behalf last night. I am not sure our aunt would agree with such open shows of affection though, such as uniting hands through an entire theatre performance, or kissing your wife in the street.”

  Ellen watched Edward tip his glass and drink the shot of brandy in one swallow. Then his eyes narrowed on his brother.

  “What?” Robert responded. “Can I not commend my little brother now?”

  “Not when I am uncertain of your intent,” Edward answered, setting the empty glass down.

  “He’s just teasing you,” Ellen interceded, smiling at Edward, before this became another row. Then turning back to Robert she moved towards him, reached up onto her toes and kissed his cheek, clearly taking him by surprise. A masculine blush darkened his cheekbones and he shook his head, as she leaned back. “Thank you, my Lord. We shall be very glad of your help.”

  But he recovered quickly, smiling broadly, and a twinkle entered his eyes. “Robert, Ellen. I can hardly have you addressing me by my title if we are to be close.” Then throwing a look at Edward, he added, “Purely platonic of course.”

  At that Ellen embraced him, setting her arms about his neck and hugging him tightly for a moment, whispering, “Your secret is quite safe with me, Robert.”

  “What secret?” Edward challenged.

  “Nothing important,” Ellen answered, and cast Edward a smile over her shoulder, pulling back from Robert. “He will tell you himself when he’s ready.”

  Edward’s gaze followed her across the room, as she went to him, assessing her, and clearly wondering what she’d meant, but then he shrugged, apparently casting off the private interaction and changed the subject, looking back at his brother. “Never let it be said I am not man enough to give you the benefit of the doubt. So, if you wish to help, this is how you can. We’ve heard nothing from Ellen’s father, so I’ve agreed with Richard, the Marquess of Wiltshire, that we will publish the news of my marriage to Ellen in the paper tomorrow. It will make it quite clear who Ellen is.” Edward turned to her, “Your father can hardly deny you then.” When she did not respond his gaze passed back to his brother. “All the men in Ellen’s family intend to circulate the clubs tomorrow afternoon. If there is any gossip it will be quashed instantly. Your involvement would be useful. If you and Rupert help, with the solidarity from both families, we are more likely to silence anyone who would dare to speak of Ellen’s past before we flush Pembroke from the country.”

  “Do you think he will come?” Ellen asked, her eyes widening.

  Edward smiled in reassurance. It was Ellen this put on a precipice not him, he was well aware of that. He did not like it, but if they wanted John she had to be brazen. It was the only way. And yes, he did think it would work, it could hardly not, with Pembroke’s status the entire ton would notice the daughter the man claimed to have brought back home from the continent as a corpse in a coffin turning up again as his living and breathing, wife. Pembroke could either choose to never set foot in society, including the House of Lords, again, or come to town and sort it out. Edward’s finger lifted to tap his beautiful wife under the chin, and he smiled at her hopeful look.

  “Yes, Ellen, I think he’ll come. I don’t see how he cannot. He’s spent years pretending you are dead. He will appear either ridiculous or callous, or both, if he does not come to town to see his daughter, whom, thanks to the story he circulated, has made a miraculous recovery from death. You shall be a veritable Lazarus, my dear. The ton will be swarming over you in a week.”

  “I am not sure I like that idea,” Ellen answered her wide beautifully pale blue eyes studying him intently, as though looking for some weakness in his words or in his belief in them.

  He gripped her shoulders, gave her a light shake and then kissed her on the bridge of the nose. “I know my little shrinking violet, but you shall suffer it none the less, for John.”

  “For John, yes,” she sighed.

  Still looking into her eyes, he smiled as one finger brushed a lock of hair from her brow while his other hand loosely slid to rest at her waist. “I don’t think your father will come for Forth’s ball. Richard and I think he will wait for home ground and attend theirs.”

  She nodded.

  A deep cough disturbed his concentration, and Edward turned to Robert, bestowing on his errant brother an impatient glare.

  “What? I am merely reminding you, you are not alone. Perhaps you should take your wife upstairs?”

  “Perhaps you should mind your own damned business,” Edward retorted.

  “Now, now little brother, is there anything else I may do for you or are you done with me?”

  Edward smiled at Robert’s undisguised look of amusement. At least now Edward believed this change of attitude. It looked as though Ellen had worked her charm on his brother too, bringing Robert to heel as she had his servants, charming him. How Ellen could be so mindful of others after all
she’d been through would never cease to amaze Edward. Blessed woman. Hugging her to his chest he looked across at Robert. “Now that you have suggested it, I suppose if I take my wife back up to bed you could go and fill Rupert in on the details and the role he can play.”

  “Edward!” She pushed him away and he would have received a slap for his forwardness but he caught her hand.

  “Sweetheart, it was just a joke.” He kissed the palm of her hand then let her go, allowing her to pull away.

  “In all seriousness, Robert, please keep an ear out for what is being said and spread our version of the tale as far as you can.”

  “As you wish,” Robert answered, smirking. “I will call on Rupert now and leave you two to—well, whatever.” With a wink at Edward, he then nodded to Ellen before walking out, whistling the sharp tune of a ribald country ditty to himself as he left.

  “That man,” Edward seethed turning back to Ellen.

  “But that I think was your fault,” she challenged, pouting. “You prompted him.”

  He stepped forward, settled his hands on her hips and pulled her close again. Her body yielded without any need for coaxing. “Tsk, tsk, such a performance of chastity for my brother, but the minute he is gone,” he whispered to her mouth as he lowered his head.

  He felt her hand lifting to slap him once more, but caught it playfully as his lips touched hers and again she yielded.

  “Shall we do as he proposed and go to bed?”

  “Edward,” she chastened.

  “Edward, what? Take me to bed? Make love to me?” he teased, sliding one open palm to the small of her back and the other to cup her breast over her pretty lemon yellow morning gown.

  “You’re wicked,” she said to his mouth, her arms reaching about his neck.

  “Forget the bed, I’ll lock the door.” His hands taking her weight, he deposited her derriere on Robert’s desk. And leaving her there, her feet dangling a few inches off the floor, he walked away smiling, shut the door and turned the key, feeling very satisfied with himself as the lock clicked home.