Chapter Seven #3
Her grandmother was a woman of considerable age, but even so Lisbeth was shocked when she saw her.
She had lost weight, and her hair had turned completely white.
Her skin seemed paper-thin and fragile. It was inconceivable.
She couldn’t imagine her grandmother ever being fragile.
Her eyes were the only thing that seemed not to have changed.
They now narrowed on her and Lisbeth took a breath and held it as she took the last few paces to put herself in front of the woman.
She curtseyed, more out of habit than politeness.
Her grandmother was sitting on a sofa with her favorite whippet panting by her side. Her other guests were soon shooed away, and they were alone. Lisbeth’s heart hammered as if she was standing before a judge.
Lady Fortesque looked her up and down.
Lisbeth held her gaze. She would not let her see any weakness.
Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed. “So, it is true. You have returned. I have to say I’m surprised.”
“I can’t see why. It has been two years.”
“Yes, two years. One would think you have been mourning your husband, but we both know that would be untrue.”
“One might think many things whether they are true or not.”
“Indeed.”
“Why did you summon me?”
“I wanted to see for myself if the rumors are true.”
“To which particular rumor do you refer?”
“Yes, there are so many to choose from, are there not? Your presence here answers one of them. The other, I see, is standing by the statue of Venus, pretending not to listen. You may call him over now.”
“No! He is not to be brought into this,” Lisbeth said.
“And why not? Is he not part of this little game you are playing?”
“There is no game.”
Ignoring Lisbeth’s request, Lady Fortesque pointed at Bellamy calling him over with a bend of her finger. Lisbeth looked over her shoulder to see Bellamy making a who-me? gesture to her grandmother’s imperious finger pointing.
Lisbeth wondered briefly if Bellamy would try to charm the woman he referred to as the battle-axe or simply act the idiot.
He took his time sauntering over, like he had all the time in the world.
He oozed confidence, nonchalance written across his handsome face.
Her grandmother huffed behind her, and Lisbeth could not help but let the corners of her mouth lift a little.
“And this is Bellamy, I suppose?” her grandmother asked of Lisbeth but looked at Bellamy.
“He is.”
“I am.” He bowed. “Your servant, Lady Fortesque.”
“Have you taken my granddaughter as your mistress?”
Lisbeth held up her hand to stop Bellamy from answering. “Lord Bellamy has kindly offered to be my escort for the season. That is all,” Lisbeth explained.
Oliver stood beside Lisbeth and watched the two women stare at each other like commanders of opposing armies.
It was like a military standoff where neither side wanted to concede defeat by giving even an inch of territory.
A battle of the fiery stares. He would have enjoyed it more but for Lisbeth’s comment.
That is all?
Was he nothing but a means to an end to her?
To be fair, she had never given him any indication other than he was an annoyance at best. So, why did her comment burn?
He was confused by his feelings. This may be due to how much he had wanted to kiss her only minutes before when she had looked more miserable than a child told there was no more pudding left.
He could have sworn that she had wanted to kiss him too.
His protective instincts had come to the fore when he had seen how she was about to collapse. He didn’t know why but he wanted to protect her from the wagging tongues of the guests.
“Bah!” her grandmother said, dismissing her explanation of their relationship. “It is not what I have been told. You do realize that he is winning wagers off you. That his intentions are for the purposes of gaining money from your reputation?” She said this to Lisbeth but focused on him.
Ah, now we come to the crux of the matter, he thought.
“I am aware of the wagers,” Lisbeth replied, her voice flat and composed.
He was glad this was a private meeting otherwise this information would be even now making its way around the room.
“Oh, you are, are you? Well, sounds like someone is trying to make a pretty penny out of the ton and I’m guessing it isn’t you, young lady. So, while Bellamy here lines his pockets with the King’s coins you gain an even worse reputation.” Lady Fortesque threw a disgusted look at Oliver.
Well, that was certainly a direct shot.
“I am also called the Black Raven by those same people. I have ceased to care one whit what they think. Lord Bellamy is…”
“Annoying and irritating in the extreme? A wastrel and a fool?” Oliver supplied.
She flung him an angry look. “I was going to say a gentleman.”
“Oh.” Oliver wanted to laugh at that one. He was sure she wanted to say at least one of his suggestions.
“You two may find this all a great lark to pull the wool over the eyes of the ton, my dear, but believe me it will not only be you that ends up hurt by this prank. I would have thought you would know better by now that what you do reflects on all of us, especially your sister.” She peered at the both of them over her patrician nose as they stood together.
She humphed. “You should marry; you look well together.”
Lisbeth and Bellamy shared a confused look.
“Yes, a June wedding, that will put things to rights.”
“I don’t think…” Lisbeth began.
“Why are you shaking your head, Bellamy? Are you saying she is good enough to bed but not to wed?”
“I won’t be marrying Bellamy. Or anyone for that matter,” Lisbeth answered.
Lady Fortesque did not seem surprised by her denial and pinned her gaze on Bellamy. “Leave us now. I have things I need to discuss with my granddaughter.”
“With all due respect, Lady Fortesque, I will leave only on Lady Blackhurst’s request.”
Lisbeth turned to him, took his hand. “I’m all right, Bellamy. I will join you shortly.”
“Are you sure?” he asked eyeing Lady Fortesque.
“Yes.”
He gave her hand a squeeze, bowed to the two ladies, and left to take up his post at the side of the room.
“He seems very protective of you. It would do him good to be settled and seeing, as he is the only man you have let come within a foot of you in years, I thought… Oh well, it matters not now.”
“No, it matters not. You gave up any right to counsel me. You have no say in who I do, or do not, marry.”
“You are right. What you do is on your head, which is why we must remain distanced from you. Do you have no inkling of what you put us through?”
Lisbeth held her tongue. Every fiber of her being wanted to scream at the woman before her.
She knew that the shame of her accusation had caused a scandal.
How could it not? But, she was innocent.
A court of law had decreed it for all. Where had her family been then?
Their lack of support at that time only fueled the flames of scandal that she had somehow gotten away with murder.
“And now you want to pull poor Bellamy through your muck as well? Not that he seems to care. I may not have met him before tonight, but I know of him, of his family. He deserves better but he has no one to direct him, does he?”
“What do you mean? Are you talking of his brother?”
“I was talking about what happened to his parents. He lost his mother, father, and younger sister in a shipwreck over a decade ago. The poor boys, and that’s all they were, had nothing to bury either. Such a pity. Lady Bellamy had been such a beauty too.”
Lisbeth instantly searched for a glimpse of Bellamy. “I only knew of his brother’s accident a few weeks ago. I had just assumed… He is all alone?” Why did she feel the need to go to him, wrap her arms around him, and comfort him? Was it because she knew what it was to be alone too?
“There is an aunt, Lady Whitely. Although, she may have passed too.”
“No family at all,” Lisbeth said in a whisper.
“This seems to have surprised you. Did he not tell you?”
No, he had not told her, and she had not asked.
She had not asked him anything personal.
To do so would be to invite intimate conversation.
She did not want such converse with him.
It was hard enough to keep him at a distance.
She was better off not knowing about him, wasn’t she? Oh, but it was too late now.
She knew. She felt. For him.
“I know you resent me for the decisions I made. I’ll tell you, I don’t regret it. I did what I had to do for the greater good of the family. If you had been in my shoes, you would have done the same.”
Was this her grandmother’s attempt at a backhanded apology? Her face gave nothing away. Cold old fish.
“I am nothing like you,” Lisbeth said with conviction. “I would never have abandoned one of my own. I would have ridden out the storm, held the faith, and protected what was mine.”
Her grandmother studied her for a moment. She nodded. “And you have done so, admirably. I wasn’t sure you had the gumption, but it seems you are stronger than even you yourself thought.”
“A compliment? It is ill-timed. None of it matters—for I have lost everything!” Lisbeth desperately wanted to leave.
“We have lost too,” her grandmother said in a whisper.
“Do not speak to me of loss.”
“If society accepts you after this farce you are playing at, then there may be hope of you returning to the family.”
Family. This woman may be her blood, but she was no longer her family. “I only want to know of my sister.”
“Marie is well—married Lord Fenwick last June.”
“I know. I read the announcement. Is she happy?”