Chapter Fifteen #2
Hyde Park was a mass of carriages of all types, as well as men on fine horses.
He guided the horses onto Rotten Row and joined the long and congested line of carriages.
He longed to have the park empty so he could put the horses through their paces.
Instead, he had to content himself with plodding. He hated plodding.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Oliver murmured, looking up at the sky. It was a startling summer blue with only a few scattered clouds. He thought never to see it blue again but here it was with birds ducking and diving through its endlessness like they were dolphins in the Mediterranean Sea.
“Do what?” Lisbeth was fiddling about in her reticule while trying to balance her yellow parasol over her shoulder. It matched her afternoon dress and her bonnet which was trimmed with a ribbon of the same shade and a conservative peacock feather.
“Have you looked at the sky today? Damn me, if it isn’t blue,” Oliver said.
What was she looking for in her reticule?
He would have helped her with her search, but he was driving her phaeton.
A neat little beauty that she had surprised him with when he came to pick her up for this afternoon’s jaunt into Hyde Park.
The black lacquer shone like onyx in the afternoon sun and thankfully did not have the Blackhurst crest emblazoned on it like everything else Blackhurst had acquired before his death.
Oliver’s horses had been changed over to the speedy high-perched conveyance in double-quick time.
“Bellamy, language please,” Lisbeth censored, giving up her search for a spyglass or whatever it was she had been looking for.
“Beg pardon, my dear. It is just that it has been raining and gray for months and the day you decide to go to the park it is as if you commanded the weather just by writing it in your schedule.”
“I hope you are not blaming the terrible weather we’ve had on me!”
He laughed at her suddenly sour expression. “Not unless your powers extend to making volcanoes erupt.”
“Oh, if only I could control the weather. I would command a little cloud to sit, just so, over your head and rain on you whenever you displease me,” she said with a smirk.
“Then I would be soaked from dawn until dusk.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Only the daylight hours?”
Oliver loved teasing her. “Of course, because I would never displease you when we were alone in bed together.”
He had not been looking forward to the tedium of this afternoon. He now knew he would never be bored in her company.
She tried for a censorious expression but there was laughter in her exquisite eyes when she looked at him.
“That is a strong statement to make considering you have only been in my bed one night. Who is to say I will be inviting you back?”
“Come, Lisbeth, are you trying to deny me the pleasure of my triumph?”
She looked at him with that burning stare that made his trousers shrink. “Your modesty is unbelievable. Perhaps last night was actually my triumph. Did you think of that?”
“Perhaps we need a do over,” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “Just to make sure, you understand.”
“Oh, I understand, quite perfectly. There is only one problem.”
“Which is?”
She smiled sweetly. “It is not on my schedule, and we have the Warrington ball tonight.”
“That’s two problems and, really, both are worth ignoring.”
“You have that smug look on your face again, Bellamy. I suspect you are making plans in that head of yours. I would advise against it lest it make your head explode and ruin your hair completely. I like it in that style—new valet?”
She hadn’t removed the rod from her back completely, but she was at least a little more bendable now. In fact, she was endearingly flexible in all the ways that mattered.
“Your concern for my hair is admirable. I think I like this kind and concerned side of you.”
“Well, I do not want to spoil my dress, do I? That kind of stain just does not come out.”
He threw his head back and laughed. He had an overwhelming urge to turn this expensive gig around and head for the nearest stand of trees. Just so he could ravish her most thoroughly.
She was laughing, too.
They traveled slowly, stopping to acknowledge the braver passersby every now and then. Lisbeth had been biding her time, waiting for the right time to ask him something which had been playing on her mind for a while.
“Bellamy, why haven’t you been collecting on your wagers?”
He looked sharply at her, his eyes like amber in the afternoon light. “What do you know of it?”
“I know you haven’t collected one shilling. It was part of our agreement. I want you to collect the winnings.”
“Was it Rollands? Your butler is far too sneaky.” She watched as he contemplated the ribbons in his hands. “It’s not as simple as you make it sound.”
“It is. You are making it more complicated. I wish you would not worry so much about your pride. Pride before a fall makes for a long drop, Bellamy.”
“And you an expert on pride.”
What was he trying to say? “I’ve had to swallow my fair share.”
He frowned. “So you have.”
They traveled a little farther, the slow pace grating on Oliver’s nerves. This all felt like a pointless exercise to him.
“I want to see it,” she blurted out when they had stopped again.
He raised a brow. “I beg your pardon?”
“The list. The list of wagers. I want to see it.” She held his gaze. He couldn’t decide if she was the bravest woman he had ever met or the most foolish.
“You already have it.”
She crossed her arms. “The proper list, Bellamy. One I can read, if you please.” She held out her hand, palm up.
He took her hand and kissed it. “I think not, Countess.”
Her expression was puzzled. “Why? Are they so terrible? So unimaginative you had to write them down in code?”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Unimaginative? Ha! You have no idea how depraved the ton’s gentlemen can be.
” He took her hand and placed it back in her lap.
“Half the wagers were committed to various betting books when the men in question were foxed. Do you really think they would put down nice, civilized things like have a picnic in the park, or stroll down Bond Street? For all your Black Raven reputation you really are naive, aren’t you? ”
Her beautiful mouth formed a perfect O, but she recovered quickly. He felt regret for having to be so blunt with her, but she had to realize that if she insisted on this farce, what exactly she was likely to discover. He didn’t want to put her through that, if he could avoid it.
Now her lips were pressed together, and he knew he had lost his fight to protect her and instead brought out her fierce need to know everything.
“I still want to see it. I think I have a right. They are about me, after all.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this?
” She shook her head. “Fine!” He pulled the phaeton over onto the grass and out of the way of the other traffic.
“Here, read them for yourself,” he said, handing her the list from his jacket pocket. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She took it from him, biting her lip in indecision.
“You don’t have to read it, Lisbeth. It won’t do you or me any good.
” He jumped down and handed the reins to a young boy.
“Keep them safe and there will be a coin in it for you,” he said to the lad, before handing Lisbeth down.
He guided her down to a bench where she dutifully sat with list in hand.
“I’ll be contemplating the plight of the ducks.” With that he walked off, down to the edge of the serpentine that ran through Hyde Park only a few feet away.
Lisbeth sat on the bench and watched him walk away.
Her heart squeezed in her chest. She looked down at the folded list in her hand.
Did she really want to know what was on it?
Part of her yelled, No! The other half told her she must know, no matter the consequences.
If nothing else, it might give her an insight into why Bellamy wouldn’t collect on his wagers as per their agreement.
She unfolded the list and read the contents with shaky hands. She read down the list, noticing that some were already ruled out with a line, where he had completed them. Her hands shook and her heart raced as she continued down the list.
My God! She was such a fool. Of course, the men who had placed these wagers would want to humiliate her. They always had. Why, two years later should it be any different?
She lifted a hand to her mouth in a quick involuntary move. He had tried to warn her, but still, the shock of finding out just how degenerate men could be had her gasping. Oliver had been right. She should not have read it, but she had now, and she would have to deal with it.
She gathered her breath and stood, looking around her.
The park was filled to capacity, most likely due to the unusually fine weather.
The sun may be peeking through but inside her it felt like it was cold and raining.
A thunderstorm was brewing in her mind ready to strike out.
How dare these men write such things about her, about anyone?
She wanted to slap every man in sight but then she looked at Bellamy…
and knew that she was wrong. Not all men were painted with the same brush.
Some men held pride and honor above all else.
Bellamy had tried to stop her from reading that revolting list of insults, but she hadn’t listened.
Lisbeth made her way to the stand of trees down near the water’s edge where Oliver was standing.
He looked good, even from the back. The tails of his coat lifted slightly on the breeze, giving her a glimpse of his magnificent backside in buck-colored breeches.
He was tall and so handsome gazing out over the water, his hat sitting at a slight angle on his head.