“Lucien. I want you to make love to me inyourbed.”
He looked up into her blushing face, his eyes bright with delight. “Youare a box of wonders, my angel. What strange fancy do we have here, andwhere did you find the courage to demand it?”
Beth could only think that in his bedroom they would be four doors awayfrom Clarissa. “Am I not a flaming radical, my dear baboon?”
He laughed and swept her up in his arms, twirling her round and roundon the way to the door. “What do you expect, I wonder? It’s a perfectlyordinary room, exactly like your own.” He stopped with her high in hisarms and lowered his head to gently torment one swollen nipple with histeeth. Beth arched and gasped as an aching need filled her.
When he looked at her, she knew her eyes spoke for her, though she wasbeyond speech. She knew her eyes said, “I need you. Now.” His breathingbecame ragged and his eyes were strangely dark with passion.
They were at the door to her bedroom. He hesitated as he considered thesituation. “Do you know, delicious wanton, I will either have to put youdown or ask you to manage the knob. I prefer the latter.” He bent slightlyand twisted so she could reach it. His lips took the opportunity to brushagain across her breasts so that her fingers trembled as they tried tograsp the knob.
As she twisted to reach it, she felt him stiffen.
“What ? ”
He put her down so abruptly it came close to a drop. Shocked, sensesadrift, left leaning against the wall, Beth watched him walk over and pickup a man’s tricorne. He turned with it in his hand and stared at her. Godknew what he saw in her face, but it was doubtless guilt. It bleached hisfine skin.
“Lucien ?”
“No.” It was quietly violent.
He walked a few paces, stiffly as if in pain, and picked a crumpledcravat from a chair. When he turned to face her, he had regained a kind ofcontrol, brittle and terrible to see. “Part of your new habit, perhaps?”he queried, his eyes like chips of blue glass.
“You know it isn’t.” She tried a smile, but fear was icing through her,surely without cause. She would have to tell him about Clarissa. Hewouldn’t be pleased, but he wouldn’t be too angry. Despite reason,instinct was screaming,Danger!
“Of course I know it isn’t,” he said quite casually, turning andturning the hat in his hands. “Has it all been acting? What a fool you’vemade of me. It would have worked, too, if it hadn’t been for this sluttishpiece of carelessness. I would never have noticed tonight if your crieswere false, if the bladder of blood had been employed.” On the lastmeasured, almost judicial, words, his eyes blazed fury and he hurled thehat viciously from him.
“Lucien,” cried Beth, too frightened to think straight. “I don’t knowwhat you mean.”
He strode over to her and grabbed her arms bruisingly. “Stop! Neveragain. We’ll deal together if we must, but there’ll be no more lies!” Hepunctuated the last three words with violent shakes.
“You’re hurting me! I haven’t lied to you!”
“You are a lie, damn you,” he shouted and thrust her from him so thatshe staggered. He gestured towards the hat and the cravat. “Who owned thatarchaic piece, that rag? A groom, perhaps? Tell me your tastes, madam. Ineed to know if I’m to serve you as well as he did!”
Revelation flashed upon Beth. She ran forward. “No, Lucien, no! It’snot that. I’ve never loved anyone but you!”
He backhanded her. She was thrown bruisingly against the wall, herbrief cry silenced by shock.
After a blank, disbelieving moment he turned sharply away, his hands tohis face.
Into the tomblike silence Clarissa burst, wild-eyed, with a candlestickin her hand. She saw Beth on the floor, hand to her throbbing cheek. Shescreamed, “You beast! You swine!” and went for the marquess swinging.
He was clearly disorientated by shock himself. She landed a crashingblow to his temple before he grabbed the weapon from her and wrapped herin a grip that prevented further assault.
By that time, Beth had struggled up and run over. “Clarissa, stop it!This doesn’t help. Lucien., let her go.”
He did so cautiously, and Clarissa fled to Beth’s side, partlycomforting and partly seeking solace. “I couldn’t help but hear, Beth. Hehityou!”
“Yes.”
Beth and Lucien stared at each other in bleak silence. Could life everbe the same after that explosion of violence? How could she have been sodense not to immediately see what interpretation he was putting on things?Those careless words of so long ago were still coming back to destroy.
He turned away from them, moving slowly as if exhausted, and drainedthe long-forgotten wine.
“I think some rational conversation is called for,” he said at last ina flat voice. “Are you willing to attempt it?”
“Of course,” said Beth and seated Clarissa firmly in thestraight-backed chair. She herself took a seat on the sofa and wondered ifhe would join her. She could have wept, and not because of the blow. Wherehad all that beautiful passion gone? Exploded in a brutal moment.
