Page 176 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

Chapter 36

“Just what have you been doing while I have been ill, Miss Martin?” Lady Addiscombe demanded the moment Stacia shut the door, her voice almost scarily quiet.

Stacia swallowed several times to force down the ball of anxiety in her throat. “I—”

“You have been with him—do not lie—I can see it in the lecherous, possessive way he put his hands on you.”

Stacia opened her mouth to say what, she did not know. But the countess was not interested in an answer.

“I knew about you when I engaged you, but I thought to give you a chance to redeem yourself—to rescue the shreds of your tattered reputation.”

“I beg your pardon?” Stacia said, recoiling. “What are you talking about?”

“Do not affect that innocent façade with me. I saw the shameless way you threw yourself at Colonel Kelly when I took you to Baroness Lindsay’s ball.”

“He asked me to dance.”

“Only after you thrust yourself at him.”

Stacia gave a laugh of disbelief. “Actually, my lady—not that it is any of your affair—long before I ever thrust myself at the colonel, he asked me to marry him. Three times, I might add.”

The countess scoffed. “A likely story!”

“Why would I lie about something like that?” she asked, truly curious as to the other woman’s inner workings.

Lady Addiscombe ignored her question. “And I suppose that Shelton has offered you marriage, as well?” She gave a scornful laugh.

“Yes. And I accepted.” It was petty of her, but she could not help enjoying the other woman’s flabbergasted expression, which was quickly replaced by an ugly, insinuating look.

“You are with child, I suppose.”

Stacia’s jaws tightened. “You are insulting, and I refuse to answer.”

Lady Addiscombe did not seem to even hear her. “You think Shelton is going to rescue you, but let me tell you what will happen, you stupid trollop.”

Stacia gasped. “I ref—”

“You spread your legs for him, which is all he ever wanted. Now you are nothing to him. Even if what you are claiming is true and he were so desperate as to marry a dowdy, penniless spinster—which I find highly suspect—the truth is that Shelton is as deeply in debt as my idiot husband. His only chance at salvation was to inherit the dukedom.” Her face turned even uglier, which Stacia had not believed possible. “Now that Chatham has married my unnatural daughter—yet another foolish whore who could not keep her legs closed—there will be a litter of children between Shelton and the title. The moment Chatham has an heir of his body he will drop Shelton like a hot coal. And then where will you be?”

Stacia opened her mouth to tell the other woman that the last thing she was hoping for was Shelton to inherit at the expense of a beloved cousin’s death.

But the countess was not finished. “I will tell you where. You will be living on that decrepit estate Shelton has only held on to because of Chatham’s generosity. Or perhaps the duke will stop supporting his debauched habits after he no longer needs him. Regardless, you will be poor and fortunate if you have so much as a scullery maid, so all your grand dreams of a title are for naught.”

Stacia felt as if she had been punched. Repeatedly. She swallowed down her pain and fixed the other woman with a direct look. “As it happens, my lady, I accepted him because I love him, not because I want the hollow comfort of a title. Is that what happened to you? If so, I pity you. But do not suppose that everyone else is so mercenary.”

The countess’s eyes bulged “You love him?” she demanded, evidently not hearing the second part.

“Yes,” she said, holding her ground no matter how much the older woman’s scorn cut her. “I love him.”

Lady Addiscombe’s shapely lips twisted into a hideous snarl as she strode up to Stacia.

For a moment, she thought the countess might actually strike her and it took all the strength she had not to shrink away from the fury in the other woman’s gaze.

“Do not think that I didn’t hear your snide comment about my own situation. Yes, I married a man with feet of clay but not for a moment was I stupid enough to fancy myself in love. You pity me, do you, Martin? Funny that, because I feel the same way about you. I wonder how your love will endure when Shelton sets up his mistress almost in front of you or brings home some filthy disease. I wonder how much you will pity me then.”

Stacia could scarcely comprehend the bile pouring from the other woman’s mouth. “Why are you saying such horrid things to me? What can you gain from such hateful behavior?”

“I am trying to save you from my own fate, you stupid—”