Chapter Thirteen #2
Lisbeth came and took his arm, looking up at him as if to gage his demeanor. He smiled down at her, wanting to assure her that he was fine, even if it was not what he felt. She smiled and sat him on the left of her. He patted her hand on his sleeve, and she squeezed his arm tightly.
“Happy, Countess?” he asked.
“Yes, very. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“It had little to do with me. I simply do what I am told as per your always delightful schedule.”
“Since when?” Her eyes were all merriment and joy.
He liked her eyes sparkling like this. He imagined even diamonds of the first water paled in comparison to the beauty of her eyes. “Since… well, fine, you have me there.” He gave her his cheekiest smile.
Lisbeth raised a brow.
“Principle, my dear. A man cannot be under the thumb, you know. It’s bad for his liver, or is that his spleen?”
“And we can’t have that.”
“Indeed, we cannot. Now, be a good girl and watch your opera. I will be asking questions later.”
She smiled at him and even in the dimness of the box it felt like being hit by a thunderbolt. It was bliss and pain at the same time. He felt it in his liver and his spleen—not to mention other places.
As he sat and stared at the stage below, he realized he could tick off another of his wagers tonight.
His list was still in his pocket but with every passing day the thought of carrying out the list felt more and more abhorrent to him.
He still needed the money, that hadn’t changed.
And he still had Ashton on his back about Lisbeth’s part in the speculation.
His life seemed to be filled with tasks he did not want to do.
He glanced towards the sisters. They were holding hands with their heads close together, whispering.
It was an endearing sight. He felt himself smile despite the ache in his heart that he never had the opportunity to talk with his brother before he died.
Never got to tell him how much he meant to him, how much he loved him. How much he missed him still.
*
Intermission came too fast for Lisbeth. Marie, still hesitant to face the crowd, would not let go of her sister. “I’ve decided I do not care what Fenwick wishes,” Marie announced, her chin tilted up. “Let us go down and get tipsy on champagne.”
“I will not have you punished for seeing me, Marie.” Lisbeth was adamant that she would protect her sister from any unnecessary pain on her behalf.
“Punished? Nonsense, Fenwick is not that kind of man,” Marie stated with a smile. “The worst he will do is mumble that he is displeased, very displeased.” She grumbled, in mock imitation of her husband, before giggling.
“I’m glad.” Lisbeth hugged her sister. Relief swept through her but still she would not be satisfied until she knew for sure that Marie would suffer no ill effects from their reconciliation.
“Oh, he will no doubt sulk for a day or two, but I know what to do to make him happy again.” Marie winked and gave a tinkling little laugh.
Lisbeth could only think how she had never been able to make Nathaniel happy, no matter what she had done to try to please him.
“Then this is not such a disaster, after all?” Lady Fortesque asked Marie.
“I am glad of it, Grandmamma. Thank you. I know I have acted ungratefully but it was so unexpected. I would have preferred for Fenwick to be here, but it is done now.”
Lady Fortesque nodded. “I will organize a luncheon so that Fenwick can meet Lisbeth for himself. That is, if you do not have any objection?” she asked, turning towards Lisbeth.
Lisbeth shook her head. “I would like nothing better than to meet Marie’s husband and, of course, my new nephew.”
Marie walked faster down the stairs dragging Lisbeth with her, chattering all the way, clearly excited. “Oh, Michael is the most magnificent child. He has Fenwick’s curly hair but my eyes and Papa’s chin…”
Oliver didn’t like Lisbeth to be so far from him but perhaps he was just overreacting. He could hardly walk faster with Lady Fortesque on his arm.
“You should bring your aunt—”
A startled scream rent the air.
Oliver instantly let go of Lady Fortesque and ran down the stairs but came up short when he saw that a man had bailed upon Lisbeth and Marie. He was whispering something that had made both women look quite pale. Oliver slipped down the right side of the stairs. A small crowd had gathered.
“I do hope you are not insulting these two ladies, sir?” Oliver asked, coming to stand directly behind him.
The man turned towards him. “Oh, look who it is. Lord Bellamy. Come to protect your mistress? How charming.” It was obvious he had partaken of more than a little alcohol tonight.
“I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before, but I see you know me,” Bellamy said.
“This is my brother-in-law, the new Lord Blackhurst.” Lisbeth explained.
Oliver raised a brow. “Well, Blackhurst, you have made your presence felt, so I suggest you leave these two ladies alone.”
Blackhurst’s expression was incredulous. His sneer so reminiscent of the portrait above Lisbeth’s mantel in the parlor.
“I am not leaving. She should leave. Murderous strumpet. She insults us all by showing her face here.”
“She is entitled to be here as much as anyone else,” Marie interjected.
“Why should she be able to parade around here? Flaunting herself, dripping in gems. Bought, no doubt, with money that was rightfully mine. If I had my way, she’d be rotting on some ship bound for the colonies. Thieving witch.”
Lisbeth shoved Marie behind her in a defensive stance. Oliver watched as she narrowed her eyes on Blackhurst and summoned her courage. It was wonderful to watch, and he knew he was not required to end this just yet.
“These are my mother’s jewels, not that it is any of your business. As to your accusation,” she added loud enough for the assembled crowd to hear, “you should really consult your memory, Lord Blackhurst.” She stepped forward. “I was found not guilty in a court of law.”
“Technicalities saved you. Everyone knows you did it. She killed my brother!” he said to the crowd.
The gasp was loud and in unison as those gathered around them moved ever closer.
“You weren’t content just to get rid of my brother; you had to go and pauper us all in the process.
You have ruined not only my family but countless others and yet you show your face in public,” he spat. “It’s disgraceful.”
Oliver grabbed Blackhurst’s jacket. “That is enough! You have insulted a lady. I demand you apologize.”
“Bellamy, let him go, please,” Lisbeth said, before turning towards her brother-in-law.
“If you wish to dispute the judge’s decision you may take it up with the court.
My conscience is clear. If you wish to contest the will, you should have done so.
In the meantime, I wish you to remove yourself, and your vulgar tongue, elsewhere. ”
He turned to Lisbeth and pinned her with a dark stare, just as his cronies came to drag him away. “You took everything from me!” he yelled.
Oliver shook visibly with anger beside her. She turned and put out a steadying hand. “Don’t, please. I couldn’t bear it. Don’t call him out.”
He looked at her and took a breath, nodding. She knew it was not in his nature to be passive, especially in the face of such hostility from her brother-in-law. She was in no doubt that Bellamy would shoot sure and true. She did not want to see him banished from England, or worse, for defending her.
“The truth will out, you lying witch,” Blackhurst shouted over his shoulder.
Lisbeth called after Blackhurst, “I live for that day, dear brother. I sincerely do.”
Blackhurst growled an obscenity but was dragged down the hall and out of sight.
Lisbeth wanted to fall to the ground and sob her eyes out.
Now, surely, Fenwick will never let Marie see her again.
She looked around her, at the crowd of people staring at her, waiting.
Their whispers seemed to swell around her.
She saw their concerned expressions and wasn’t sure what they expected from her.
When she did nothing but raise her chin, take her sister’s hand, and began to walk, they cheered. She looked at Marie, confused.
“Bravo, dear sister! They love you,” Marie said.
“I feel sick,” she replied, her hand going to her stomach.
“Well, you were magnificent.” Oliver kissed her hand and guided her to a seat.
“I thought you were going to challenge him for a moment there, Bellamy,” Marie remarked, still looking pale.
He looked at Lisbeth and then back to Marie. “I’m not one who generally likes to wake before dawn. However, if he had insisted, I would only have killed him a little.” He gave Lisbeth’s sister a smile and a wink. She laughed. He turned then to Lisbeth. “Would you have worried for me, Countess?”
She had no chance to answer because her grandmother had finally caught up to them. “Goodness! All those stairs. What was Blackhurst playing at?”
“Nothing really. He dislikes me and thought I should know,” Lisbeth replied.
“Those Blackhursts never did have any sense of propriety,” Lady Fortesque said a little breathlessly. “Are you two all right?” She was looking them over with concern.
“Oh, yes. Lisbeth gave him a piece of her mind and put him in his place,” Marie said, patting Lisbeth on the arm in a show of affection that Lisbeth had dreamed of for so very, very long.
Lisbeth took a sip of her champagne and held Oliver’s gaze for a few moments, her heart beating a tattoo against her ribs. The thought of him dueling over her, putting his life in danger, was not sitting well with her.
Would you have worried for me, Countess?
Yes, I would have worried for you, Oliver. I do worry for you.