Tempting Bella (Entangled Scandalous) (16 page)

Tabby shuddered delicately. “Gentleman should not fight. It is uncivilized.”

“Apparently, he is quite renowned at Gentleman Jackson’s,” Monty said, slipping into the seat beside Tabby.

“You went along as well?” Bella asked him.

“Purely as a spectator. I’m not one to pass up a good bout.” Monty chuckled. “I learned few gentlemen care to face your husband. He is considered quite fearsome.”

Orford’s face darkened with displeasure. “Blood will tell, I suppose.”

The two footmen attending them stiffened. Reaching for her chocolate, Bella surreptitiously observed the servants’ reaction. “What do you mean?”

Orford shot her a sympathetic gaze. “Of course, you will have heard the rumors.”

This time there was no doubt the two footmen exchanged a quick disapproving glance. She noted, not for the first time, that even the male staff members displayed an uncommon devotion to the master of the house. Nodding to them, she said, “Thank you. You may go.”

Once they’d exited and closed the door behind them, she returned her attention to Orford. “What rumor is that?”

“That Stanhope is not really the marquess’s brother at all.”

“What matter of nonsense is this?” An unexpected surge of protectiveness welled in her. “Of course Camryn is Sebastian’s brother.”

Orford put a comforting hand over Bella’s. “They say your husband is a natural.”

“What is that?”

“It is understood among the
ton
that he was merry-begotten.”

Bella’s blood froze. Sebastian a bastard? “How can that be?”

Nothing made Josette’s eyes sparkle more than salacious gossip. Leaning forward, she spoke in hushed tones. “They say the mother enjoyed a liaison.”

Bella’s eyes widened. “His mother and another man?” She couldn’t imagine the gentle woman she’d met last evening cuckolding her husband.

Josette laughed at her friend’s obvious shock. “
Mon cheri
, it is nothing. She had already given her husband two sons. Do not be so provincial.”

Tabby glanced nervously toward the door. “It is not well done of us to speak ill of our host. Really, he appears quite the gentleman.”

“You would think so, Tabby.” Monty favored her with an indulgent look. “You are too good by half to appreciate the baser nature of human behavior.”

Bella was stunned. “And her husband, Sebastian’s father, he didn’t mind?”

Orford lifted an elegant shoulder. “Who’s to say?”

“I see.” She sat back in her chair feeling strangely out of breath. “Who is his sire?”

“The talk is that he was an Italian of no consequence,” said Orford. “Probably a peasant.”

She pondered that, thinking of Sebastian’s dark curls, the olive tones in his complexion, how much his appearance differed from that of his brothers. It made sense.

Orford brought Bella’s hand to his lips. “I’m sorry, my dear, your husband’s bloodlines are even less impressive than they appear.”

She suppressed an impulse to defend Sebastian. Why, she couldn’t fathom, especially after his beastly behavior last evening. It had not been the behavior of a gentleman. It had, in fact, been base.

After the meal, everyone agreed to Tabby’s suggestion they visit the British Museum to see the Elgin marbles. Bella declined and pulled Orford aside as the others prepared to depart. “Anything new on the mysterious account at Barclay’s Bank?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, it has not been easy to find a clerk who is amenable to our particular form of persuasion.”

“Keep trying; we must find out whose name is on that account.”

“Who else could the money be for besides your husband?”

“A mistress. A parcel of by-blows. Who can know for certain? There are any number of possibilities.” She wanted all of the details about Sebastian’s secret account, the one to which he diverted one thousand pounds of Traherne money each month. “I must have inconvertible evidence of Sebastian’s pilfering when I take this matter to His Grace.”

“Not to worry, I’ll keep trying.” He gingerly touched his split lip. “It’s my pleasure to assist with this matter.”

Shortly after her friends’ departure, Bella received a note from Willa, Duchess of Hartwell, inviting her to take tea. Eager to avoid running into her husband, she immediately sent her acceptance back to Sebastian’s cousin. At the appointed time, she donned a russet-colored dress, which brought out the color of her hair and eyes, this one with a neckline that was just fashionably low, not scandalously so.

Hartwell House stood in the finest part of Mayfair not far from Camryn’s equally impressive address. A dark-skinned butler she presumed to be from India showed her to a parlor, where the duchess rose to greet her. Camryn’s wife, Charlotte, the marchioness, was with her.

The duchess wore a stunning red day dress that complemented her porcelain skin and remarkable beauty. Her large brown eyes were warm and friendly. “We are so pleased you have come,” she said, inviting Bella to take a seat. “As you can imagine, Charlotte and I are most curious about Sebastian’s wife.”

“You will find us to be terribly inquisitive,” Charlotte said with a laugh, her lovely blue eyes sparkling. “But we are fond of your husband and are anxious to see him happily settled.” She wore a simple pale blue day gown with a high waist and a satin ribbon that tied under the modest swells of her bosom.

The duchess poured a cup of tea for Bella. “Sebastian is so obviously taken with you.”

“Taken by me, Your Grace?” Bella accepted the tea. “Surely not.”

The duchess filled a plate of food for her. “You must call me Willa. After all, we are family now.”

“And I am Charlotte,” said the marchioness. “Of course Sebastian is taken with you. It was obvious to all of us last evening.”

Both women gazed at her in an expectant way that made Bella’s cheeks heat.

“Sebastian’s feelings are often difficult to decipher, but his eyes followed your every movement last evening,” Willa said handing her a plate.

Probably because he worried her top would be lost. “I had not noticed.”

Charlotte sipped her tea. “Sebastian is not like other men. He never looks at women, certainly not in the appreciative way he regards you.”

Looking into the open, friendly faces of her new relations, Bella realized she quite liked them. Of course, they were wrong about Sebastian and other women. Willa and Charlotte were gentlewomen of the highest rank who’d have no inkling if Sebastian was indeed a thief with a propensity to use servant girls to satisfy his baser needs.

Willa filled her own teacup. “It is not as though he hasn’t had the opportunity. That quiet way about him entices many women to his side, but Sebastian rejects every advance as far as I can tell.”

“Is that why they call him the saint?” asked Bella.

“Not just that,” said Charlotte. “He is a gentleman in every way. Chaste, charitable, and I am certain he is a kind and indulgent husband.”

“He also has a keenness of mind and sweetness of temper,” said Willa. “He is gifted with humor and perception. He is the utmost gentleman.”

He’d hardly been a gentleman last night. “He does seem to worry about his consequence.”

Charlotte and Willa exchanged a glance.

“Not at all.” A frown marred the duchess’s lovely face, her displeasure obvious. “He is the last to think of such things.”

“It is only natural,” she said in easy conversational manner, “for a man to choose a bride based upon breeding and the standing she brings to the alliance.”

Charlotte’s face softened. “You are mistaken. Sebastian cares nothing for titles. He declined the one that was offered him.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” said Bella.

Willa patted Bella’s knee as though she were a child. “Because of his good standing and, no doubt, his marriage to you, the Lords offered to bestow the title of viscount on Sebastian.”

Stunned, it took a moment for Bella to understand Willa’s words. “Sebastian received a title? Through an act of parliament?”

Charlotte bit into a strawberry. “It is the way of men. They see Sebastian is married to a future duchess so they want to elevate him to a title that would make him worthy of his wife.”

Naturally. She swallowed down her bitterness. Marriage to her had proven even more advantageous for Sebastian than she’d thought. “He hadn’t mentioned his ennoblement.”

Charlotte patted her lips with a linen cloth to wipe away any remains of strawberry juice. “That’s because he refused it.”

Bella’s eyes widened. “Beg pardon?”

Charlotte settled back in her chair, her amusement obvious. “He turned down the title.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Not at all,” said Willa. “He rejected the offer of a title out of hand, saying he quite preferred to remain a mere mister.”

Charlotte chuckled. “It was quite the shock. No one has ever turned down a title before.”

“But why didn’t he take it?”

Willa shrugged. “Cam and Hartwell tried to convince him to. They told him to think of his future offspring, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”

A noise in the hallway drew their attention. Willa rose. “Aunt Matilda and Mother are here,” she said, putting an end, for the moment, to Bella’s questions. Of which she now had many more than before.

…

Bella’s head was still swirling when she returned home and hurried to her rooms. Sebastian had turned down a title. Why, when position and fortune appeared to be so important to him? It made no sense at all.

She learned from the servants that he’d spent the day at home, most of that time in his study, receiving business-related calls. Still unnerved by the events of last evening, she was glad for the chance to avoid him. Still, the reprieve was short-lived. Almost immediately, she received a summons from Sebastian to join him in his study.

“What does he want?” she asked Davison when he delivered the missive.

“He requests your presence, my lady. He mentioned there are matters to be discussed.” She watched Davison bow out of the room. While the butler was most attentive, she couldn’t help feeling he was really her husband’s man. He, like all of the servants, demonstrated an extreme loyalty to their employer, who they clearly saw as Sebastian. Even though they were likely paid with Traherne funds. She sighed. It was the way of things. She might as well accustom herself to it; a woman owned next to nothing once she married.

Her mind returned to her impending appointment with her husband. What to wear? She finally settled on her most severe gown, with a high collar and long sleeves to the wrist, left over from her finishing school days. Her hair, she pulled back into a severe manner, fashioning a bun at the nape of her neck.

Nerves jabbing at her stomach, she made her way to the study. The door was ajar allowing murmurs of conversation to drift out into the hall. His business associates must still be with him. She turned to go, but a decidedly feminine sound coming from the study stopped her. Curious, she advanced to the door and peered inside.

Her maid, Louisa, stood before Sebastian. They were in front of his desk, with just inches separating them. Bella couldn’t see Louisa’s face, but she had a clear view of Sebastian’s. A warm smile lit his face as he looked down on the girl. Bella’s stomach lurched. He laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder and murmured something Bella couldn’t hear. Yet their actions spoke volumes; his casual physical contact with the servant girl, their proximity to each other, the easy, fond expression on her husband’s face. Pain twisted in her chest. Sebastian and another servant. Perhaps Louisa was yet another reason he didn’t visit her bed.

She pushed the door open. “You asked to see me?” she asked, her voice unnaturally loud.

Looking at her, Sebastian slowly removed his hand from Louisa’s shoulder, as though laying hands upon a servant was nothing to be remarked upon. His eyes skimmed over Bella’s dress, a glimmer of amusement flashing there before his gaze turned inscrutably polite.

“Yes, thank you for coming.” He motioned for her to come forward. “That will be all, Louisa.” The maid hurried out, dropping a quick curtsy to Bella, her eyes downcast. She closed the door behind her.

Sebastian gazed at Bella for a moment. He was in shirtsleeves, his enormous, muscled forearms lightly dusted with dark curls. He wore no cravat so that his collar opened at the neck, revealing curls of dark hair licking at his throat. “Are you contemplating joining a nunnery?”

Tearing her gaze away from his impressive form, she realized he referred to her severe gown. “There are no nunneries in England, as you well know.”

“True. Perhaps off to join a mission of mercy then?”

“I thought you would find this mode of dress more to your exacting taste.”

“I see. So you must either play the lightskirt or a spinster governess. Is there no middle ground for you, Mirabella?”

“Is there no place but the middle ground for you?”

A slight smile curved his lips. “Well said. Please sit.” He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.

Advancing, she grasped the back of the chair instead. “No, thank you. I’d prefer to stand.”

Courtesy dictated he remain standing as well. “As you will.” Clasping his hands behind his back, he walked to the hearth. His breeches clung to the firm, well-rounded muscles of his rear. Bella swallowed hard and jerked her gaze away when he turned to face her.

Clearing his throat, his clear green gaze met hers. “I wish to apologize for last evening.”

Bella’s eyes widened. He’d behaved badly, but she hadn’t expected a show of remorse. She’d baited him, insulted him, even shamed him before his family. “Oh.”

“My behavior was abominable.” His full lips pressed into a grim line. “It was wrong of me to insult you in such a manner. You are my wife, and, as your husband, it is my place to honor and protect you. It is certainly not to debase you. Allow me to assure you such a sordid scene will never happen again.”

She released a breath, her mind still focused on her maid. “What was Louisa doing in here?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Why was my maid in your study?” Bella crossed her arms over her chest. “Does she report my comings and goings to you?”

His grim countenance eased. “Of course not.”

“Then why was she here?”

He regarded her with puzzlement. “She is in my employ. I make it my concern to check on the welfare of the servants.”

“Is she your—” She flushed, unable to finish the thought.

“Is she my what?” He regarded her for a moment before his eyebrows rose in understanding. “My peculiar? Of course not. She is just a servant. Although I am flattered by your interest.”

“I am not interested. Not in the least.” The words tumbled out. Too quickly. Mortified, Bella closed her eyes. She opened them to find penetrating eyes focused on her.

“There is only one woman who interests me in that way.”

She fought the urge to cover her face in shame for showing jealousy over a servant. “Yet you don’t make demands of that sort on me—” She clamped her mouth shut again, wishing she could keep her tongue in her mouth and control her feelings the way Sebastian did.

He came around to the front of his desk and rested his hip against it in a manner that caused his thigh muscles to bulge. “What is it, Mirabella? Pray do speak freely.”

Pressing her lips together, she gave him a mutinous look and shook her head, not daring to open her traitorous mouth again.

“Is this about me demanding my marital rights?”

Bella tightened her arms across her chest. “I accept your apology.” She spun around, anxious to quit the room. “If that is all—”

Suddenly he was behind her, all warmth and hard masculinity. “No, that is not all.” His breath tingled through her hair. Large arms came around her. He seemed to hesitate before pulling her back against the rocklike length of his body.