A Wicked Liaison. Christine Merrill
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you need to manage me, Lord Barton,’ she snapped back at him. ‘I thought I made it clear, when I refused your contemptible offer, that we would not be doing anything further together. I do not wish to dance with you. I doubt I can eat in your presence, since the thought of you sickens me. And thus, I sent regrets for your ball.’
Her word seemed to have no effect on his continued good humour. He was still smiling as he said, ‘That is not acceptable.’
‘It is most acceptable to me,’ she insisted. ‘And that is all that matters. I doubt that you have any tender feelings that I might have offended. I do not believe you capable of them.’
‘Let me speak plainly,’ he said.
‘I have been unable to stop you.’
‘You will be in attendance at the ball, because I wish it to be so.’
‘And why would I care what you wish?’
Without another word, he reached into his pocket, and withdrew an object, wrapped in a linen handkerchief. His eyes widened and his mouth made an ‘Oh’, like a conjuror performing a trick. Then he dipped his fingers into the bundle and withdrew a ruby-and-diamond necklace. He dangled it in front of her.
And without thinking, she reached for it, and cursed her hand for acting faster than her wits.
‘I knew you would not be bribed with pretty words or baubles like a sensible woman, since I’ve tried that and failed. But then I thought, perhaps I was using the wrong bait.’
She watched the necklace, glittering in his hand, and tried to conceal her desire for it.
‘You were most foolish to sell the whole thing. You needn’t have made a complete copy you know. Just pried out the stones and let the jeweller fit paste ones into the old setting.’
She had learned that herself, after selling the rubies. The cost of even the cheapest copy ate almost all of the additional profit from selling the gold setting.
She said nothing.
He turned the necklace to let the jewels sparkle in the sunlight. ‘And you made the copy, once you realised that the necklace was not technically yours, did you not? It is part of your husband’s entail. It belongs to the new duke, and not to you. It was very wrong of you to sell it. What do you suppose the new duke would say, if he knew you were selling a necklace that has been in his family for generations?’
The new duke would likely go many months before noticing its absence. When he did, she’d hoped to stall him with the copy until she could afford to buy back the real necklace. But she kept her foolish mouth shut over the secret since Barton had enough power over her without her full confession.
‘I trust you have seen the error of your ways, and do not wish to continue stealing from your nephew.’
She thought to argue that it was not really stealing, if one was only trying to get money that one was owed, and continued to hold silent.
He nodded as though she had spoken. ‘Fortunately for you, I am an understanding man. I will give you back your necklace. Once you have done something for me.’
She closed her eyes. Now she must decide. Lie with Barton, or let him go to Freddy with the necklace. The choice was easy. Let him tell Freddy the truth. Perhaps it would move the duke to loosen his purse strings.
When she opened her eyes again, Barton was watching her with amusement. ‘You are not asking what it is I wish.’
‘I know what it is that you want. The answer is still no.’
He laughed. ‘You think I demand unconditional surrender, for a single strand of rubies? While it is a lovely necklace, I suspect you hold your honour to be worth more. A price above rubies, perhaps?’ He laughed. ‘Listen carefully to my offer, and then give me your answer.
‘First, what will happen to you, if you deny me: I will let the necklace fall from my pocket somewhere public. Everyone knows it is yours. Someone will ask me how I came by it. I will explain how you left it in my rooms. The world will draw its own conclusions, and you will be ruined.
‘Or you can attend the ball tomorrow. You will stand beside me as hostess, and dance with me as I wish. At the end of the evening, I will return the jewels to you, and you may go home.’
‘And if I stand up with you, the world will draw much the same conclusions that they did, if I do not obey you,’ she said.
‘They might wonder, but they will not be sure.’
She weighed the possibilities. The ruby necklace was clear proof of her perfidy. If she could retrieve it without much cost to her honour, it would be worth the attempt. Of course, there was a chance that he would deny her.
He saw the suspicion in her eyes. ‘You needn’t fear. I swear that you shall have the thing back before the clock strikes twelve. And I do not expect physical intimacy. Not yet, at any rate. But if you think you can toy with me, or trick me in some way, the price for the necklace may be much higher the next time I offer it.’
What was she to do? It was not really such a great sacrifice to go to a ball. Although she hated Barton, it would do her reputation no real harm. ‘Very well. I will attend.’
He laughed, again. It was a cold sound, short and brittle like cracking ice. ‘Excellent. I shall have the pleasure of your company, and you shall have your necklace.’
He leaned closer, the laughter gone from his voice. ‘And you will have learned a valuable lesson. When things go my way, I am happy and reward those around me. Rewards are so much better than punishment, are they not? I find that training a woman is not much different than training a hound. It all begins with the smallest act of obedience. Once a man has achieved that, he is well on the road to becoming a master.’ There was a half-smile of satisfaction on his face, as though his eventual victory was a foregone conclusion.
‘You will find, Lord Barton, that I am not some lapdog to be easily brought to heel. You have won in this. But that is all. Now, if you will excuse me, I must prepare for your ball tomorrow. I wish to look my best, so that you may remember me well, for it will be the last time that you see me. If you please.’ She gestured to the door.
He rose, indolently, and proceeded out of the room, leaving the air around her bitterly cold.
Constance waited in the drawing room of the London townhouse of the current Duke of Wellford. She had no right to feel the wave of possessiveness that she was feeling towards the house and its contents.
It did not belong to her, after all. It had been her husband’s home long before she married him, but never truly hers. She had seen to the care and cleaning of it, of course. She had entertained guests in this very room. She had chosen the furnishings, and the food. She had hired and fired the servants.
And now, after twelve years in residence, and only a year away, she was a visitor. The butler who had greeted her was not familiar. When crossing the entrance hall, she caught sight of a footman she had hired herself. He had almost smiled when he’d seen her. Almost. And then there had been a flash of pity, before he went back to his duties, and treated her with the excessive formality due a ranking guest, and not a member of the family.
And to add to the discomfort, Freddy left her to wait. She had informed him that morning that she’d planned to visit, but when she arrived he was not in attendance, having decided to go riding in Hyde Park with his friends.
Robert had often railed against the folly of keeping horses in town. To keep the beasts fed, groomed and stabled was disproportionately expensive, when compared to the amount of time he had to ride while residing in the city. Apparently, the new duke had no such concerns.
Constance drummed her fingers against the small gilt table beside the settee, then folded her hands in her lap, willing them to be still. It was best to marshal her patience before Freddy arrived, if she wished to greet him pleasantly and keep him in good humour. She would make no ground in securing money or deed if she angered him by censuring his behaviour.