Read Lizzie Tempest Ruins A Viscount (Felmont Brides Series Book 1) Page 55

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  Mr. Rackham rowed Lizzie and Dace across the river to the Duke of Saint Sirin’s estate. The viscount tied the bobbing green boat to the dock and held her hand as they followed the path to the old stone Quarry for which Quorr House was named. Rax excused himself and fled to his home a mile away through Saint Sirin’s park.

  “You cannot mean to walk around half naked, Dace.” Lizzie eyed his chest. He looked so beautiful that it made her heart ache. “We’ve got to go back and get dressed.”

  “Why? Aren’t we going to meet my mistress? Surely she has seen me naked before?” He gave a Felmont laugh. “You can cover me with your hands, my love, if you decide it is necessary.”

  Lizzie ignored his invitation, it was just too tempting.

  She was glad her nightrail could be mistaken for clothing in the dark. She paused to wring water from its hem. What if that awful woman wanted him back? What if she saw his chest and decided to never let him go?

  Only a remnant of the quarry’s granite outcropping remained, like a stone bowl holding a spring-fed lake. There was even a bathing edifice in the style of an Indian temple crowned with jagged spires. An amusing folly that pleased the eye when viewed from afar, but was cold and damp inside.

  Lizzie shivered in her damp nightrail.

  The Beast wrapped her in his arms.

  “Is she pining for you?” Lizzie had to remind herself she could never love him or touch him again. “Is she waiting for you?”

  “Only family are allowed on that floor, Lizzie. We are family. Sirrie’s relations are family. Footmen guard the entrance. No one is allowed in but family.”

  “But I saw her with you,” Lizzie said slowly, emphasizing every word. “I saw her black hair spread over the pillows, I saw her silver slippers. Did you forget that I burned you on the bottom? You have a wound there, I saw it.”

  “What did you burn Con with, dear heart?” He held her away from him. “Is that why you were so eager to have me naked? I am sorely disappointed.”

  Lizzie didn’t believe him for an instant. He didn’t look crushed, he looked distinctly hopeful.

  He gave a grunt of laughter. “Damn, Lizzie. If you want to see my scars, just ask. That’s an old stab wound. Probably still has stitches visible in it. Angel put them in for me when the damn thing bled every time I sat down. Did you really burn Con? I thought he walked with a bit of a limp.” He lowered his head to whisper, “I’ll let you look at my war wound in the morning, for a fee.”

  She wriggled against him to stop the tickling in her ear. “What fee?”

  “Anything I want to do to you.”

  Lizzie suddenly felt much warmer. She pushed his arms away.

  He hauled her back against him. “You’ve never met the duke’s oldest sister. Maybe, she could have been the one.”

  “Don’t you know? Didn’t you seek an introduction before you took her to our bed? Did you seduce Saint Sirin’s sister?” She struggled in vain to free herself. “I don’t care if she was a cousin or an aunt! He will call you out if he finds out.”

  “It wasn’t me! Rather difficult to ask him, Lizzie. Can’t walk up to a man and ask which of his close female relatives are most likely to have used our bed with Con. Next, you’ll be suspecting grand-mère.”

  “Confess your part!” Lizzie commanded in a stern whisper. “I really don’t want to know who your whore was. It’s disgusting! In our bed! War wound, indeed. How unlikely. I’m sure men don’t go around stabbing one another there.”

  “Rax says she is here every night.” He turned her face up towards him to give her a Felmont stare. “We are going to wait for her and she is going to tell you she was not with me. And you are going to believe her.”

  “If she loves you, I’m sure she’ll say anything for you,” Lizzie replied with a sob.

  His hands slid down to hold her closer.

  Ethereal singing drifted through the trees.

  From over Dace’s shoulder, she saw a black-haired woman step into the clearing. Her robe clung to her figure. Her maid hurried past carrying towels to the steps of the bathing house.

  Lizzie caught her breath. She’d recognize that hair and those silvered high-heeled slippers anywhere. She slithered around the Beast to see for herself who had whored at Quorr House.

  The lovely voice stopped when the lady kicked off her slippers.

  “Hush!” warned her husband under his breath.

  “Who is there?” called the lady. “Marie, do you see anyone.”

  The maid stared down the path. “Non, madame.”

  Lady Estelle reached the water. “Guard my things well this time. That nasty child might try again.”

  Her maid removed the robe to reveal a bathing dress and the wig to reveal her mistress’s short dark hair. She gathered the silver slippers while her mistress stepped into the shallows.

  Lizzie trotted after the Beast as he strode over the lawn towards the water. She didn’t need to be beckoned, though he turned to make sure she followed him. His love saw him and gave a little scream. Not a very warm a welcome. No doubt the presence of his wife did not add joy to the occasion.

  Dace led the way to the edge of the water.

  The maid jumped when she saw him so near her and dropped all she held. Lizzie saw her stare at the viscount’s chest with a great deal more interest than necessary.

  He pointed down at the wig, robe and shoes. “Excuse us,” he called. “My wife lost her ring when we were here earlier.” He pretended to search around the flat rocks. “Admit, Lizzie,” he whispered, “You did not see more of her than these. Con set the scene. You didn’t stay long enough to see the fakery involved.”

  Lady Estelle sneered from a safe distance as she floated in the water. “Your daughter made a nuisance of herself the day you left. I had her caned for sneaking out of the house to steal my things.”

  “What!” Dace stood up in fury. “It’s a long way for Sarah to walk all by herself just to purloin a few articles of yours.”

  “The duke whipped her for being at the lake. He did not seem to mind her stealing.” Perhaps the lady read something in his body from his stillness, for she hurried to justify herself. “Your daughter was found wearing my wig, Jeannie had on my shoes. Your daughter confessed that she went alone to the lake to steal them.”

  Dace bent down to pick up the robe. He tore it in two to fling the pieces into the water. “Do forgive me, terrible temper!” Dace thundered. “Did it never occur to you–” He shook his head. “No, of course not. Only family allowed on that floor.”

  “Bad breeding shows in your behavior, as it does in your wife’s. You are as vulgar as she is.” Lady Estelle saw her wig being held over the water. “Put that down!”

  “My daughter confessed so Jeannie would not be punished. Do not think of accusing my daughter again.” He threw the wig into the water and turned to Lizzie. “Shoes?”

  Lizzie tossed them far into the lake. She whispered to him beneath the screams of outrage coming from the lake. “How could anyone persuade her to do it? I saw her hands gripping and stroking.”

  He muttered low in her ear. “You saw Con with her wig.”

  “I saw her hands stroking him, clasping him. I saw hands, Dace.” Lizzie didn’t argue about the identity of those thrusting buttocks. “She must have been with Con. It wasn’t you, I know it now.” There, she had said it.

  “How do you know, dear heart?” He led her into the darkness between the trees to find the path to the river.

  She patted the scar on his bottom through his britches.

  “She never looked at your chest the way I do.”

  He laughed and hugged her. “I might never wear clothes again.”

  “You’d catch cold in the winter.” She ran her hands up his back, which earned her a kiss that stole her heart.

  It was nearly midnight. To take her mind of her lust, she said, “I don’t think Estelle likes men at all. Do you think Con forced her to do it?”

  “I
f he did, I’d have to kill him before Angel does. But I doubt Con is capable of stealing more than a kiss unless madly in love with the lady. Somehow, I doubt Lady Estelle is the woman he loves. Be careful when you meet him next, Lizzie.”

  Hand in hand they walked up to the little boat bobbing in the river.

  “Hellfire! We forgot to tie Rax up so he couldn’t run home. I can only row us in circles. Will you help?”

  Lizzie smiled at him. “Yes, if you show me how.” She let him help her into the boat. “Are we going to go home now, Dace? Back to the Folly?”

  “No, I am still your highwayman and you are my prisoner. I’ll have no husband’s rights over you. At least, not until we return.”

  She quelled the urge to splash him on purpose. It was hard enough to go smoothly in any direction. He made it look so easy.

  He reached around her to lift the oars into the boat when they neared Angel’s castle. The current gently swayed their bodies together. “My love, I ask only that you think about our lives entwined. How to trust and how to love are the two most important of life’s questions. You must answer them for us both. I can only wait and hope and love.”

  She could think of nothing to say. Trust and love a Felmont? To do it was one thing. To admit it, quite another.

  He said with a wicked French lilt, “Unless you are silent?”

  “I have offered you every midnight.” What else could he want?

  He bent to kiss the top of her head. “And I want so much more.”