Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DULCEA BELFORD ARRANGED her face into a pleasant smile as she paused before the front door of Harmon House. She tugged her immodest bodice lower, then lifted the knocker.
Her daughter had been in town for well over a week, but she had not had a single glimpse of her.
She had, however, run into Blanche Harrington last night at a soiree and had learned that Amanda had called on her, with the Countess of Adare, upon first arriving in London.
Dulcea wasn’t really surprised. Everyone knew that the Countess of Adare remained on good terms with the woman who had almost become her daughter-in-law, and if Amanda was as unpolished as Cliff had suggested, of course her first call would be prearranged. How clever of de Warenne.
Thinking of him now infuriated her when previously his mere appearance in the same salon had been enough to make her tingle with delicious lust. She had tried to seduce him last year, but he had politely rejected her overtures.
Dulcea had not been able to believe it then and she really couldn’t believe his callous behavior toward her now—she had never been denied before, or so abused.
How dare he scorn her, as if she owed Amanda Carre something.
Carre had raised her and if her current plight was not satisfactory, the blame belonged on her father, not on her!
De Warenne’s reputation as a masterly and insatiable lover was well-known, and now he had taken up with her daughter.
Dulcea had become wet and hot between her thighs but she remained furious.
She had quite a few doubts about the liaison.
He was a conscienceless rake and he could not possibly be a fit guardian for any young woman, much less a beautiful one.
Blanche had confirmed that Amanda was a great beauty.
She had refused to confirm that she was at all rough about the edges, however.
Dulcea had sensed that, for some reason, Blanche Harrington was protecting Amanda. But why on earth would she do that?
Dulcea intended to discover what was truly transpiring. But even if Cliff was in bed with his ward, and even if Blanche had some kind of interest in her, the real and shocking news was that Amanda had a dowry. Apparently Carre had left her a small but lucrative estate near the village of Ashton.
How small was the estate, Dulcea wondered. Were there any tenants and if so, how many? If it was lucrative, just how lucrative was it? What if there was a mine?
Dulcea wet her lips, her pulse pounding.
She had carefully reconsidered her position toward Amanda since learning of her dowry.
Living on credit was horrid. Dulcea did not know how they would launch her own daughter in a few years.
Worse, if Belford passed, as he surely would, as he was so much older than she, how would she ever pay off his debts?
Of course, she would have to remarry a fortune.
But now, there might be a solution for the moment, and that solution was her bastard daughter.
She did not dare acknowledge Amanda openly.
She had debated claiming her as a cousin, but if Belford ever learned the truth, he would boot her at once.
But she was Amanda’s natural mother. As such, shouldn’t she be involved in Amanda’s prospects?
Dulcea hated the notion of groveling before Cliff de Warenne, but she must convince him of her right to participate in the decisions affecting her daughter’s future.
Surely, she must be the one to control the estate.
She thought her plan was infallible. If he was in her daughter’s bed, she could blackmail him into handing over control of the estate.
A doorman escorted her into a salon, taking her calling card and placing it on a silver tray. Dulcea was calling very early—unfashionably so—in the hopes of catching de Warenne before he went out for the day.
She heard his footfall approaching and fought her anger toward him, rearranging her expression into one that was demure and seductive. Seduction would be her first course of action; blackmail the last.
Cliff strode into the salon, his face set in harsh lines, closing the two doors behind him. He faced her, not bothering with a proper or pleasant greeting. “I will not mince words, Lady Belford. You are not welcome here.”
Her smile vanished, as did her pleasure at the sight of such a magnificent man. She controlled her temper. “My lord, good morning to you, as well,” she murmured softly.
“Do I have to repeat myself? You are not welcome in this house.”
She drew herself up straighter. He was despicable! “My daughter lives in this house, Cliff. I am so sorry about our previous encounter. I have come to apologize to you and to inquire after her welfare.”
His beautiful blue eyes flashed. “Really? The daughter you have no wish to acknowledge in any fashion whatsoever?” He was scathing.
“I have reconsidered. I wish to meet her. I have actually considered claiming her as my cousin, but I am afraid of Belford.” She laid her ungloved hand on his strong forearm.
He flinched and she felt a moment of satisfaction, thinking that he was not immune to her charms. “Cliff, I have so much regret!” she cried.
“She is my daughter and I wish to help you launch her. Discreetly, of course.” She smiled at him, fluttering her lashes. ”
He pulled away, scowling. “You broke Amanda’s heart. Now you wish to toy with it? I wonder at your change of heart, madam.”
Dulcea realized that seducing Cliff would not be easy, as he seemed to truly despise her. She wanted to attack, but smiled again, instead. “Come, Cliff. How could I have broken her heart? I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me.”
“Carre made certain she loved you, madam. Your rejection aggrieved her to no end,” he said harshly.
He is very protective of her, Dulcea suddenly thought with real suspicion and a stabbing jealousy. Was he fucking her? “She must be like her father, then. I broke his heart, but I did not mean to. Carre was weak.”
Cliff was disgusted. “Amanda is the strongest woman I have ever met. Let us cut to the chase. What do you really want?”
She widened her eyes, thinking of the estate Carre had left her and praying a few pounds could be squeezed out of it.
“I told you, I wish to help you with Amanda. How rough is she?” she asked, not caring at all.
“Can she be presented in real society? Otherwise, we will not be able to find her a suitor.”
Cliff shook his head. “I do not want you anywhere near Amanda, Lady Belford. There is no we. I trust you as much as I do a viper. No, I trust you even less.”
She stared at him, hating him, thinking about fucking him until he wept in pleasure and then coldly rejecting him while he begged for her attentions again.
“You are only here because you have heard Amanda has some small fortune. Do you think I am a fool?” He laughed coldly, without mirth.
Dulcea made one final attempt, knowing she would soon unsheathe her claws and wanting to do nothing more than scratch his handsome face. “I have every right to help you launch her, sir. I have every right to make the decisions that affect her future.”
“You have no rights!” Cliff exclaimed, his cheeks flushed with anger.
She curled her long nails into her palms. “How long have you been in her bed, de Warenne?”
His eyes widened.
She laughed with savage pleasure. “I know you are bedding her. I have heard she is beautiful and young. You used to prefer women like myself, but suddenly, it is the innocent you pursue. And I am the despicable one?” she purred, her pulse pounding, for she saw that she had fueled his anger and it was explosive.
He raised his hands as if he meant to push her into the wall. “Yes, she is young, very young—all of eighteen. She is my ward, Lady Belford! I am trying to find her a husband!”
Dulcea was surprised, because he seemed truly affronted, but she stepped so close to him that her breasts brushed his chest. He jerked. “If I let it be known that you are having a torrid affair with Miss Carre, she’ll be ruined, Cliff.”
He seized her arm, causing her to gasp with pain, pushing her against the wall. “Like hell! I am not sharing Amanda’s bed.”
Dulcea laughed, thrilling now. “Even if you aren’t, who will believe you?”
“You dare to blackmail me?” he gasped, his gaze glittering with fury. Dulcea was certain there was lust there, too. His grip eased slightly. He smiled coldly. “What do you want, Dulcea?”
She hesitated, then moved her hip against his loins. To her shock, they were not full.
His mirthless smile increased. “You could be the last woman in the land and I would not touch you.”
She cried out in rage. “I am her mother!” she spat. “I should control her prospects and her estate.”
Cliff laughed, releasing her. “I was right. You are heartless, conniving…and I am too much of a gentleman to continue. You will not spread your nasty lies, Dulcea, because if you do, I will make certain Belford knows the truth about you—all of it.”
She froze, suddenly afraid.
“That’s right. He will know of every single affair, your affair with Carre—and Amanda. Now get out.”
“You bastard,” she breathed. “You are no gentleman.”
“Get out,” he said softly, dangerously, “before I throw you out myself.”
She shook with rage, but she believed him, because his eyes were dark with fury. She hurried out of Harmon House, climbing into the carriage.
“Lady Belford?” her driver asked pleasantly.
“Shut up,” she cried.
She had to think. She wasn’t in Cliff’s arms, his huge manhood filling her.
He wasn’t on his knees, burying his face in her sex.
And he did not seem to be in Amanda’s bed—but something was going on, she could smell it.
It was as if he cared about her damned bastard, while he despised her!
Most importantly, he was keeping Amanda’s dowry securely under lock and key.
“I will have revenge,” she spat, trembling. “Harris! Take me to Lady Ferris,” she cried.