Her former dance partner came up beside her with two glasses of punch, avidly listening to her exchange with Candelstone.
Bella turned to him. “Ah, my punch. Thank you,” she said, forcibly modulating her voice as she smiled up at him, her eyes glistening with emotion. “Shall we drink our punch while we take a turn about the room?” she suggested, not giving the young man a choice as she took the punch glass in one hand and threaded her other arm through his. She turned him away from Candelstone. The young man easily followed where she led.
“We are not done yet, Lady Blessingame,” Candelstone said,sotto voce.
Still, Bella heard him and shivered slightly.
* * *
Bella sawNowlton’s lips curl as she and her partner passed on their perambulation about the room.
Aidan Nowlton and Lord Candelstone. They were vining thorns wrapped about her, scratching her, drawing pinpricks of blood with every move she made. They drained her vitality. It was early in the evening, and she felt incredibly tired. She would be missed if she retired to her room, so she couldn’t do that. There would be more questions.
She sighed. Always questions.
Suddenly, she stopped. She dropped the young man’s arm. “Would you excuse me, please? There is something I must do,” she told him. She handed her half-full punch glass back to the confused young man and made her way back around the room to where Nowlton stood, watching.
He looked at her in surprise when she stopped in front of him.
“I wish to speak with you,” she said.
He looked at her through hooded eyes. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“That is fine. You don’t need to talk. You need to listen,” she said grimly. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the column he leaned against. “Come, the column will stand without your support.”
Around her, she heard a sudden burst of whispers and saw curious faces. Gossips. She ignored them.
“This is not wise,” Nowlton said as she led him through the room.
“On the contrary, this is the wisest thing I’ve done since coming to London. This way…”
She led him to the Duke's old study on the same floor. She pulled him inside and shut the door behind them.
She turned around to face him. A racehorse couldn’t gallop faster than her heart beat. She licked her lips. “First, let me say,” she began carefully, “I never bedded Harry or any other man before I married.”
Nowlton snorted. “That is not what I know. But why do you persist in this lie? It has been three years!”
“No! We were lied to!” She took a deep breath. “It all comes back to Harry. Our charming Harry was incapable of loving anyone, but he loved to be loved. He loved to be appreciated, to receive praise. He hated criticism of any kind.”
Aidan’s mouth compressed in a straight line, but he conceded that was Harry’s biggest fault. His brows pulled together. “But why are you mentioning this?” he quizzed.
Bella sighed. “Harry would do what he had to do to receive love, admiration, respect, all of those feel-good feelings. And if that was acting in love, or doing things he didn’t want to do, he would do that. But emotionally, he was empty. The only way he felt fulfilled was if others loved and admired him. He fed off of that love, but he didn’t reciprocate.”
“Did you love him?”
“I tried to. He feigned such love for me while my heart was broken. I couldn’t refuse. I really didn’t care who I wed when you rejected me.”
“What are you talking about? That is the second time you have intimated that I somehow hurt you when it was you who hurt me. You are playing with me again. I should know that once a game-playing spy, always a game-playing spy.”
He turned to walk away. She grabbed his arm.
“It’s time you stop wearing your hurt on your sleeve and listen to me!” she entreated. “We were both deceived, and we played right into Harry’s plan.”
“You are wrong. Harry and I were good friends.”
“If you were such good friends, why did Harry tell me you had a bet on the books at White’s that you would be under my skirts before the season was out?”
“What?! No, that is not Harry!”
