Chapter Seven #4
Lisbeth remembered clearly the day of her sister’s wedding.
It had been a bright June day, warm but with a cool breeze that sent the gowns of the female guests flapping against their legs.
She had hidden within her carriage across the street to watch the bride and groom emerge from St George’s Church in Hanover Square.
Lisbeth should have been on the steps with the other guests, offering hugs of congratulations, and sharing in her sister’s joy, attending the wedding breakfast and toasting to the happy couple.
Instead, she had spent the whole morning worrying that Lord Fenwick may not be the man he purported to be.
Was he a good man? A gentle soul who would never lay a finger on Marie?
Would he treat her with respect and kindness?
She did not want Marie to suffer the same fate as she had.
Tears had streamed down Lisbeth’s face, and she cursed the fates that had put her in such a position. She should have been shedding tears of joy but instead it felt more like Marie was being torn from her heart a second time.
Her grandmother frowned at her now. “Her husband appears to be doting towards her and really, she could not have hoped for a better match, considering.”
“Considering she is related to me you mean?” She flashed her eyes to show her anger but the woman before her did not react.
“You put us all in a position where we had no choice. Don’t you see?”
Was she pleading for her to understand? She knew it would not have been easy for them. Who would want to marry the sister of a suspected murderer?
She looked over to where Bellamy was standing, drink in hand and gazing at the ceiling. He may have no family, but at least they had probably loved him.
“Be wary, my dear. There are still those who would wish you ill.”
“I am used to looking after myself,” she replied. “I would hate for you to lose sleep over me. Do have a good evening.” Tell my sister I miss her…
She was proud as she walked away. She had not let it show how much her grandmother’s cool reserve had hurt her, ripped her heart to shreds.
What had she expected this to be? A sweet family reunion?
It was better this way she told herself.
This way she wouldn’t be lulled into thinking the old woman still cared for her.
Oliver studied the countess as she excused herself from her grandmother and began the walk across the room towards him.
She was looking directly at him. Odd! He felt no burning sensation anywhere in the region of his forehead.
He was beginning to feel warm in another region though.
He took another sip of his drink and rolled it on his tongue as he continued to hold her gaze.
He swallowed. Lord, she was perfection! She was artless in her movements and yet the sway of her hips told an ancient story that his loins understood completely.
He must look away.
He couldn’t.
He watched her watching him.
His heart pounded violently. Her every step was grace; her breasts moved up and down slowly in her bodice like music for the eyes.
Every shimmer of the emerald material as it moved around her body was like whispers of an enchantment.
He was mesmerized by her. Every painful breath he held told him he was mad to think of her this way.
Every beat of his heart told him he was a fool.
She was nearly in front of him and he blinked. What an idiot he must look. He had to remember they were nothing to each other—she had made that clear enough. Just partners in an arrangement that was starting to show more holes than a match girl’s shawl.
That is all.
“Did you take your fill of half-naked statues, Bellamy?” She took the empty wineglass out of his hand and gave it to a passing servant.
“Pardon?” All he’d heard was the word naked.
“The statues, did you find them entertaining enough?”
“Oh, the statues? Well, you know, seen one, seen them all,” he said with a grin. “I’d like to know where all their arms went, wouldn’t you? There must be a vault somewhere in Greece full of lost limbs.” If she only knew what he had been thinking while looking at those figures.
Lisbeth took his arm and began leading Bellamy away from the statue of Aphrodite. “I am feeling I must grant you a boon… for having put up with me this evening, not to mention dealing with my grandmother.”
“Really?” Bellamy looked more than shocked, and Lisbeth wanted to laugh but nothing seemed to come out.
“Yes,” she continued, pulling out his infamous list from her reticule. “I thought we should complete one of your wagers.”
“Oh, I see,” was all he said in reply.
She was not sure if he was happy about her suggestion or not. “So, which one shall we complete? This one?” She pointed to an incomprehensible scribble about halfway down the list.
Oliver looked over her shoulder at the one she had selected then frowned. “No! Not that one. Choose another.”
“Why? What does it say?”
“Just choose another.”
“All right.” She looked down the list and pointed to a shorter scribble.
“Definitely not,” he said.
“This one?”
“No!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Bellamy!”
“This one,” he said indicating one towards the top of the list.
She sighed loudly in irritation. “Fine,” she said, relieved that he had at least selected one.
“Good.” He took her by the hand and led her towards the other side of the room. “What? Where are you taking me? Bellamy, I insist on knowing what you have chosen.”
“It is nothing too torturous, I assure you. If you try not to trample on my toes, I’ll try not to step on yours.”
“Trample?” She dug in her heels and stopped. “One moment please, is this by chance a waltz?” They were not quite at the dance floor. “I told you—”
“I know, you don’t waltz. That is why we are doing a cotillion.”
“Bellamy!”
“You do remember the steps, don’t you?” he asked as he pulled her onto the dance floor.
“Of course, I remember the steps, and why is it I trample and you only step? That hardly seems fair.”
The music started and with a satisfied smile on his face he positioned her in the line and took up his place opposite. As the music started he gave a double eyebrow wiggle.
Lisbeth rolled her eyes.
He laughed.
It had been some years since she had danced and yet as soon as the couples around her began, the steps just seemed to happen on their own.
Her feet moved into the steps and turns without fail, no doubt due to her mother who had insisted she dance flawlessly before being allowed to go to London for her season.
Bellamy was very agile and confident, light on his toes and, thankfully, skillful enough to keep his promise of not stepping on hers.
At first, she did not want to enjoy the dance, but too soon the music and laughter around her drew her in and every time she touched hands with Bellamy her heart sped up.
She enjoyed it a lot more than she had thought possible though she told herself she most certainly did not.
“You dance very well,” she said to him through a turn.
“You seem surprised.”
“Not really, well, maybe a little.”
He laughed. “Even in the army there were social occasions which necessitated the officers to dance with various female guests. You may be surprised by other things I do well.”
She blushed and was reminded that this was Bellamy she was talking to. They parted, clasping hands with other dancers before coming back together.
“Those things do not concern me, no matter how well you do them,” she said with a smirk.
He laughed.
Again they separated and came back together.
She found herself longing for the steps that brought them together, if only for the briefest of moments.
When his hand touched hers, she felt a strange kind of warm tingle go right through her.
She was right to keep away from waltzing with him.
If he were to hold her too close, in the circle of his arms, she may go up in flames, for her thoughts and her cheeks were warming shockingly.
Surely, it was the exertion of the dance or the stuffiness of the room and nothing to do with him.
Then he smiled at her and the tingles swept through her body like an inferno.
She felt herself wanting to smile back. Why couldn’t she just let go?
It would be so easy to let him charm her.
To woo her with his sad past and his seductive quips.
She felt sorry for him, she decided. It was the only plausible answer to her reactions.
It was nothing more than sympathy after hearing how he had lost his parents.
Any woman with a heart would feel the same, wouldn’t they?
He winked at her with such amusement that she missed a step. Lord, was she doomed to fall for the same tricks that had hideously ruined her life only seven years ago?
Nathaniel had been a good dancer. Smooth with his words and compliments and yet…
and yet that had not been him at all. If only she could turn back time.
She would play her cards differently, that would be for certain.
The deceiving words of a man who promised her the sun and the moon would not play her for a fool again.
How could she have forgotten the tricks men played to get what they want?
It wasn’t like Bellamy was here by choice.
She had made him come here tonight. It was quite clear to her that he found this whole thing a game which he was playing along with.
At every turn he was aiming for higher stakes, just waiting for his cards to turn and take the advantage.
Is that what he had been doing at the beginning of the night when she had been upset at seeing her grandmother?
Had he seized the opportunity to take the trump card by playing the concerned lover?
The pain she carried with her increased, and she found herself fighting tears again.
Was there no one whom she could trust? Lisbeth slowly turned the hurt to anger.
It was the only way she knew how to cope with what was happening.
She still had need of him and was not ready to let him go but she would be prepared to defend herself against him with everything she had.
The dance ended and Bellamy offered his arm to escort her off the dance floor.
“You think too much,” he announced. “I swear I could see cogs moving in there.” He made as if to look in her ear. He grinned.
She gave him one of her burning glares in warning and he stepped back, shocked. “Surely it wasn’t so bad?”
“You tricked me.” She began to walk towards the refreshment table with determined strides. He did not immediately follow.
Any man can be kind, she told herself, when he was after something. What if she were to give in to him, then what? Then who might he turn out to be? Someone like Nathaniel? The thought was too terrible to contemplate.
“Are you all right?” he asked her, his smile long gone. “You look… upset.”
“I’m fine.” She picked up a glass of wine from the table and took a sip, closing her eyes for a moment.
“Are you sure because—”
Setting her glass down with trembling fingers she turned to face him. “I said, I’m fine!”
He raised a brow. “Countess, if that is even remotely true then your definition of fine and mine are very different, indeed.”
“Bellamy—”
He took her elbow in a strong grip and escorted her to the end of the room with quick strides. So different from earlier, he was not protecting her now. It just went to prove her point.
“Unhand me, now!” she hissed.
He pulled her around to face him. She gasped at the dark look in his eyes.
“I was going to wait for a more private moment but now I am just going to ask you. Were you and my brother lovers?”
Lisbeth’s shocked confusion did not seem to give him the answer he wanted, for he said something under his breath before he scowled at her even darker.
She said, “Why would you think I knew your brother?”
“Because he knew you.”
“And when did he tell you this?”
“He didn’t.”
“Bellamy, I cannot be responsible for the imaginings of men.”
“Henry talked to my aunt about you… in detail it seems.”
So, the aunt was alive. Not completely alone then. “I can’t imagine why. I met him but once.”
“Only once?”
Her eyes grew huge with indignation and anger. “Yes, once! Why are you questioning me like I am somehow responsible for a wrong done to your brother?”
“Aren’t you? You and your husband both?”
“The speculation had nothing to do with me,” she replied.
“You were the sole benefactor of its collapse.”
“Benefactor? Benefactor! I got no benefit from that accursed speculation. It ruined my life.” Lisbeth walked off but Bellamy caught up to her in two strong strides.
“You are rich as Croesus. Do not tell me you did not benefit.”
“Financially, yes, but it was not my choice. I never even knew until the reading of the will. It has not given me one day of happiness I assure you.”
“Why didn’t you give the investors back their money?”
“Oh, if only it had been that simple. There were… legal reasons but I am not about to discuss them with you.” Tired, sad, and sick to her stomach she began to walk off. Bellamy appeared in front of her. Damn his long legs.
“Henry was my brother. For some unfathomable reason he gambled the family’s money on a speculation. A speculation that didn’t exist. I have every right to know why he’d be fool enough to do such a thing.”
“Gambled is the word, Bellamy. And you have no right to question me. However, if you can produce the paperwork that states how much money he put into the speculation, I will gladly refund the debt.”
She watched him as hope flared in his eyes. It made this whole night even more depressing because she knew no such paperwork existed. He would no doubt turn his house upside down looking for it—all for nothing.
Lisbeth signaled a footman, handed him a glass of wine, and picked up her own. “Here is to finding the un-findable.” She clinked her glass to his.
Bellamy watched her for a moment, a small crease between his brows.
She knew exactly when understanding dawned on him because his shoulders slumped a little and his lovely eyes seemed to dim.
She wanted to say she was sorry, sorry for everything, but what difference would it make?
It would not bring back his brother, nor put his family finances back in place.
It would not help anyone, least of all herself.
Yes, she too was looking for the seemingly un-findable—the truth.