Seduced by a Marquis (Regency Unlaced 8) Read online

  No visible sign. But the pleasurable aches of Bella’s body and the marks of their passion upon her skin as she threw back the bedclothes were a delicious reminder that Lysander had taken her again during the night. And that it had been just as enjoyable as the first time. Perhaps better, because there was no pain this time, only the ecstasy.

  But where was Lysander now?

  Could he perhaps have gone back to his own bedchamber to wash and dress before going downstairs to instruct that they be brought breakfast in bed? Bella certainly had no inclination to be with other people the day after their wedding. She could happily spend all day in bed with Lysander, exploring his body more fully, learning how he liked to be touched and kissed.

  Yes, a day spent in bed with her husband sounded perfect. They would also be able to talk about their feelings— Bella hastily pulled the bedclothes back over her nakedness as her maid came bustling into the bedchamber, carrying a tray.

  “Ah, you’re awake, my lady.” Jane crossed the room to place the breakfast tray across Bella’s thighs. “His lordship said as how you might be.” She beamed down at Bella with a knowing smile.

  Bella avoided seeing that same expression in the maid’s eyes as she busied herself pouring a cup of tea. “Where is his lordship this morning?”

  “Oh, he went out a good hour ago—”

  “He went out?” Bella repeated, no longer pouring the tea as she stared at Jane incredulously.

  “Why yes, my lady.” The maid frowned at her reaction. “He said he had some business to attend to, and you was not to wait breakfast for him. That he might be some time.”

  Lysander had gone out? The day after their wedding, their wedding night, he had gone out about his business as if this was just like any other day? And he might possibly be gone awhile?

  How could he?

  They had been so close last night. Had been joined together for half the night. How could Lysander just desert her this morning as if nothing extraordinary had happened?

  Perhaps because for him it had not.

  Last night had not been Lysander’s first time with a woman as it had been her first time with a man, so perhaps the ecstasy of their lovemaking had not been as earth-shattering for him as it had been for her. He had fallen asleep, still inside her, after that first time. Yes, he had woken again an hour or so later and made love to her a second time, but again they had not discussed feelings.

  Perhaps because on Lysander’s side, there were none.

  Men could, Bella believed, make love to any desirable or beautiful woman. It was an entirely physical reaction for them and had nothing to do with the emotions. Those married gentlemen Arthur had her entice into his web of deceit had all claimed to love their wives, despite their intention of taking Bella to bed and making love with her. No, not making love. Having sex with her. A force of nature which seemed to drive faithful men into acts of infidelity.

  Just because Lysander was in love with his sister-in-law did not mean he did not take other women to bed. He might even have a mistress, as so many other men in Society did.

  Bella had already accepted Lysander’s heart belonged to another woman, she did not think she could bear it if she had to share him in a physical way with other women too.

  She would not have a choice. She was now Lysander’s wife. The future mother of his heirs, something Lysander had made clear was to be her role when he asked her to marry him.

  Last night she had allowed the euphoria of their lovemaking to cloud her mind as to what Lysander was really about. No doubt it was his intention to get her pregnant as quickly as possible so that he might return to the bed of other women or his mistress.

  She was a fool.

  A naïve, romantic fool.

  One who had made the mistake of falling in love with her own husband.

  Which was why, when Lysander entered Bella’s bedchamber some two hours later, she was still lying abed, the covers drawn up to her chin as she stared sightlessly at the ceiling above.

  “Jane said you are feeling unwell?” Lysander frowned his concern as he saw Bella’s cheeks were the same pale cream as the bedcovers.

  Bella turned to him with lackluster and bruised-looking eyes. “I am a little fatigued, that is all.”

  Last night, his desire for Bella had been insatiable. The second time they made love even more intensely than the first, he recalled with a wince. He had made love to her for hours that second time, giving her orgasm after orgasm before taking his own pleasure.

  Perhaps it had been too much for her. Bella was a virgin, unused to such physical demands. “Did I hurt you last night?” He sat on the side of the bed to take one of her hands in his. It was cold as ice. “Bella?” he prompted when she remained silent. “Would you like me to call the doctor—”

  “Absolutely not.” She pulled her hand free of his to hold on to the bedcovers as she sat up against the pillows. “I am, as I said, merely tired after the rush and activity of this past week. Besides, you were not here, so there was no need for haste in my rising from my bed.”

  Was that accusation he heard in her tone? Lysander could not be sure. “I am back now. Would you like to go out for a drive in our carriage after luncheon? The fresh air might do you good,” he enticed.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I do not care to go out in public to be gawked at and gossiped about the day after our wedding. Besides, by all accounts, you have already been out.” She looked at him challengingly.

  “I went out this morning because—”

  “You have no need to explain yourself to me.” She threw the bedcovers back on the other side of the bed before getting out, revealing that she once again wore that beautiful silk nightgown from the night before. The gown she had willingly removed when he asked her to.

  Where was that woman from the night before? That demanding and sensual woman who had driven him mad with need and desire?

  She was cold this morning, and not just to the touch. There was a coolness in those violet-colored eyes which refused to meet his. Her cheeks were pale, her lips bloodless and pressed tightly together.

  “You are my wife,” Lysander stated firmly as he stood. “Of course I will share where I have been with you.”

  “Why?” She pulled on her robe and fastened it about the slenderness of her waist, her hair a long golden swath down her back.

  Lysander was at a loss to understand where the demanding vixen from last night had disappeared to. Wherever she was, he wanted her back and in this bedchamber with him. Now.

  “What are you doing?” Her eyes widened as Lysander approached her with predatory steps.

  “I told you, I wish to talk to my wife.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

  Bella took a step back as he stood in front of her, his hands placed against the wall at either side of her head. “I do not think there is any need for you to stand quite so close to engage in conversation.”

  “Perhaps I wish to do more than engage in conversation.”

  Her gaze dropped from meeting his. “Should we not wait and see if…if last night’s efforts do not take hold before it is necessary to try again?”

  “Last night’s efforts?” he repeated, silky soft.

  “Why, yes.” Her gaze flicked up to his and then away again. “You made it clear from the onset that you wish for me to produce your heir as soon as possible.”

  Lysander’s eyes narrowed. “When did I say that?”

  “When you asked me to marry you. I believe at the time you described it as your father’s future heir.”

  He had said that, Lysander recalled with a grimace. But that had been before he realized he was in love with Bella. He had not given an heir, for his father’s sake or otherwise, a single thought when he made love with Bella last night.

  His gaze dropped to her flat stomach. Had his child already taken up residence in there? Their child. His and Bella’s. His son and heir. Their son or daughter.

  The thought of Bella round and ripe with his child was en
ough to cause his cock to once again engorge and rise.

  Which, if Bella should see it, would not aid in alleviating the estrangement which currently existed between them. “I went to Stowmont House this morning. I needed to see and speak with—”

  “With Tia.” She nodded abruptly. “Of course you did.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Bella closed her eyes to hold back the tears she had been fighting ever since Lysander entered her bedchamber. To now hear he had felt compelled to visit the woman he was in love with the day after their wedding was too much.

  She gave a shake of her head as she opened her eyes, and the tears began to fall down her cheeks. “I cannot do this, Lysander. I…I thought that I could but I… I cannot be your wife when you are in love with another woman.”

  “What other woman? What are you talking about?”

  “Have you forgotten I was present the day your brother came here to discourage you from marrying me? That I am aware you are in love with his wife?”

  Lysander recoiled as if she had struck him. “You think I married you when I am in love with another woman? That I made love with you last night while in love with my own sister-in-law?”

  She sighed. “I know you did. I thought it would not matter, but I was wrong.” Her smile was tearful. “I have discovered I am not a woman who likes to share her husband, even if it is only his affections.”

  “Only my affections?” he bit out. “They mean so little to you, then?”

  “No! Yes… I do not know.” She looked at him with appeal. “You offered a means of escape for Esther and myself from Arthur, and I…I took it. I did not think beyond that. Did not realize how much I would hate knowing my husband is in love with another woman.”

  Lysander wished he could say he had been rendered speechless by Bella’s accusations. Unfortunately, he had not. “Whatever you may have thought, I am most certainly not in love with Tia. I like Tia and was attracted to her when we first met, and for some weeks after that, but I have never been in love with her. I am certainly not in love with my brother’s pregnant wife.”

  Bella stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. Lysander did not love Tia? But… How… “You did not strike Sebastian that day because he had accused you of being in love with his wife, but because you are not…” she belatedly realized.

  He nodded tersely. “And because he dared to make such an erroneous statement in front of you. It was Sebastian I went to see this morning, not Tia. I wanted to know if he and Brooketon had made any progress in looking for Billy and his friends. I did not want to run the risk of anything else happening to you.”

  Oh dear God, what had she done?

  “Lysander—” She broke off as there was the sound of a knock on the door.

  “Come.” Lysander was the one to answer that knock.

  Hatfield stood in the open doorway. “There are several visitors waiting downstairs to talk with you, my lord.”

  “Who are they?” Lysander’s steady gaze remained fixed on Bella.

  “Their Graces the Duke of Landingham and Stowmont, and Viscount Brooketon. There are three other less…worthy gentlemen, who appear to be in their custody,” the butler added with distaste.

  Given what Lysander had told her of his brother and Viscount Brooketon’s search for Billy and his associates, and Hatfield’s expression of distaste for those less worthy gentlemen, Bella believed they were in all probability the three of them.

  It was Bella’s dearest wish to know who had paid those three men to waylay them last night with the intention of killing both her and Lysander.

  But she also wished this had not happened now, when there was so much distance between the two of them. When she owed Lysander an apology at the very least for having made false accusations regarding his feelings for Tia.

  When she had told him she could no longer continue to be his wife…

  Chapter 14

  It was indeed Billy and his associates who had accompanied the three gentlemen to Trent House, and looking just as disreputable and smelling as pungently as they had the evening before.

  Lysander had lingered in the bedchamber long enough for Bella to quickly wash and dress. He had refused to discuss their previous conversation while he did so, instead stating ominously they would return to the subject once their visitors had gone.

  Billy and his friends might look and smell as disgusting as they had the previous evening, but they did not appear quite so cocky as they all stood with their hands tied behind their backs, while the dukes and Lord Brooke reclined comfortably in armchairs.

  The three gentlemen stood up as Bella entered the room, Stowmont indicating Bella should take his seat. “I thought it best not to let them soil your armchairs.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” She sank gratefully into the chair he had vacated. In truth, her legs were shaking so badly, she was relieved to be able to sit.

  She had made a terrible mistake earlier. One she was not sure Lysander would forgive her for.

  “What have you learned?” Lysander demanded without preamble. “Who paid these rogues to do away with us?”

  His father placed a calming hand on his forearm. “I have invited two more guests to join us, Lysander.”

  He frowned. “Who else—”

  “Lord Jonathan Spenser and Mr. William Spenser,” Hatfield announced from the doorway before the father and son entered the salon.

  William Spenser looked less than pleased. “What is all this about, Uncle Edward—”

  “That’s him!” Billy accused. “That’s the blighter what paid us to kill the two of you. Ain’t it, boys?” His two friends nodded obediently.

  “William…” Bella had not liked the man when she met him at the wedding yesterday, but she had not thought he was so unpleasant as to have paid men to kill his cousin and his new bride.

  The cousin who had usurped both William and his father to the title of the Duke of Landingham…

  Was that what this was about? Inheriting the Landingham title and fortune?

  Lysander stepped forward to confront his cousin. “I should kill you for what you tried to do last night.”

  “No, not him,” Billy snapped. “The older gent is the one that paid us to off his nephew and his bride.”

  “Father?” William’s face had gone deathly white.

  Jonathan Spenser? That kindly faced rogue who had flirted with Bella at the wedding yesterday?

  “Why, Jonathan?” The Duke of Landingham softly prompted his younger brother, the lack of surprise in his expression revealing he had probably already known who was responsible. Which he no doubt had, as he was responsible for his brother and nephew having been invited here today.

  The other man scowled. “Are you going to take the word of this…this cutthroat over that of your own brother?”

  “I have yet to hear your word.” The duke’s voice remained strangely calm.

  “This sort of riffraff will say anything, accuse anyone, to get themselves out of trouble,” Jonathan scoffed.

  “At this moment, they are not in trouble,” Landingham dismissed. “A little harmless mischief by waylaying Lysander’s carriage yesterday evening. No one was hurt.”

  “Then what are we all doing here?” Jonathan Spenser snapped.

  “Father?” William pressed again. “Did you do this thing? Did you try to have Lysander and his wife killed on their wedding day?”

  “Do not dare to challenge me in that insolent way, boy!” His father glared. “I did it for you, damn it. I have spent my entire life playing second fiddle to my older brother, Edward. I did not want the same fate for you. You were meant to be the Landingham heir, not his illegitimate whelp!”

  Lysander was reeling from learning his kindly Uncle Spenser, the one member of his new family he had felt comfortable with, had plotted and planned to have him killed. Not only him, but Bella too. “Are you also responsible for Bella’s accident in the park?”

  Eyes he
had once thought a warm blue now looked at him with cold contempt. “My intention was to ensure you did not marry and provide the heir. Far easier to dispose of the bride before that happened. Time enough to kill you at a later date. Unfortunately, these idiots failed.” He glared at the three disreputable men. “Once you were married, it became necessary to dispose of both of you.”

  Lysander eyes narrowed. “Why are you admitting to all this?”

  “Why not?” Jonathan challenged. “I am the brother of the Duke of Landingham. What are you going to do to me? Put me on trial? Bring scandal down upon the name of Spenser and the title of Landingham?” He snorted. “Is your existence not enough of a scandal for our family to suffer without adding another?”

  Lysander straightened his shoulders. “I exist because my mother and father love each other. I am proud to be the child of that love.” He looked at his father. “I owe you and my mother an apology for my…lack of warmth these past three months.”

  His father squeezed his arm. “Angelique assured me that you were your father’s son and the matter would settle one day.”

  He smiled. “My mother is a very wise woman.” He turned to the other men in the room. “I would appreciate it if you gentlemen would now all take yourselves off and allow Bella and me to get on with our honeymoon.”

  “And Spenser?” Sebastian prompted.

  Lysander shrugged. “I will leave all of you to decide his fate. But a visit to the Continent, with the threat of being arrested if he steps foot inside England again, sounds a reasonable solution to the problem to me. Bella?”

  She rose slowly to her feet to cross the room until she was standing only inches in front of Jonathan Spenser, a man she had believed to be a harmless old rogue. “This is for harming my sister.” Her arm swung upward, and her hand made loud contact with one of his rosy cheeks. Spenser was so shocked by the force of that slap, he could only reel back in shock. “And this is for daring to take Lysander away from me.” The second slap was harder than the first. “If you ever come near any of us again, I will ensure you are incarcerated in prison for the rest of your life for what you tried to do to us.”