Chapter Twenty-Five

B elle was overwhelmed. Pride for Luke’s willingness to stand up to his father was followed by concern at North’s interrogation and not knowing the reason behind it. All that gave way to a war between fear and longing when his parting words to her resonated with what Charlotte and the Black Widow had both said.

She’d fought her conscience the entire ride about her worthiness versus Luke’s happiness and reputation. Then again when she’d spied the magnificence of this home. She could afford a nice enough house for herself, perhaps even a small castle, but this represented the longevity and breadth of Luke’s inheritance.

Now, after North’s words, she wasn’t sure her conscience was strong enough to fight father and son as well as her heart.

Luke’s arms wrapped around her, and she gave herself up to the pleasure and comfort of being held by him, despite feeling odd about it in his father’s house. She’d lived the last fortnight wondering whether that would ever happen again.

When he tried to lead her back to the settee, she dug her heels in and clung to him, not yet ready to let him go. She wasn’t ready to argue with him about a betrothal, afraid she’d succumb to temptation and agree.

After long moments of her heart beating against his, his breath warm on her ear, she found the strength to release him.

“Thank you for coming. Will you sit with me a spell and we can talk, please?” he asked, holding her hands.

“I’m rather weary. Might we speak later, perhaps? I should like to return to the inn and rest and change for supper.”

“No, please stay here. I mean, yes, you can rest, but allow me to send a servant for your things and please use one of our guest rooms for however long you’re willing to stay.”

She nodded, grateful he’d suggested it. They needed to have a difficult conversation, and she wanted to be ready to pack up and go if needed after that. She also wanted him and his father to be clear on what they were offering. It would be interesting to see how North’s widow responded to her at supper the following night.

Joining father and son for their repast that evening, Belle remained quiet, listening to the men talk of the earldom, plans to ride to the tenant farms, and other area news.

She excused herself to bed after the meal, citing travel fatigue. Luke narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing.

Dismissing the maid as soon as her stays were loosened, she changed to her nightrail and wrapper and sat by the fire to brush her hair. Physical desire for Luke warred with the strangeness of contemplating a romp with him with North in the same house. North’s dismissal of her concerns about her reputation and her past and his blessing on their marriage kept interfering with her resolve to resist Luke.

Within an hour, a tap at the door came. At her invitation, Luke poked his head in, scanning the room. He stepped inside and whispered the door shut behind him.

“Might you be avoiding me?” he asked with a smile.

“A little. I wanted to give you and your father time to talk further or think things through.” She set the brush down. “Also, I don’t know what to say to you, Luke.”

“Say you missed me. You have my father’s blessing and my adoration. What more do you need?” He crossed to sit in the chair next to hers, leaning forward to hold her hand.

“I missed you, but that changes nothing.”

“How about this? You were right about my father’s intentions being better than they appeared. I am relieved to see a path forward for us. What else needs changing?”

He was pushing her, making her feel cornered. Both men had ignored her argument about his reputation. Charlotte’s mantra echoed in her head, but she could not bring herself to quite believe it. The following night’s dinner would prove them wrong, after all.

“Hmm. No answer? I’ll take that as an opportunity to woo you here, away from the prying eyes of the Ton. Now”—he held a finger to his lips when she drew breath to speak—“let us concentrate on more t imely t asks.” He drew off his cravat and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Luke! We are in your father’s house.”

“So? Who is to say the lovely widow isn’t creeping down the hall right now?” He shrugged then paused in peeling his shirt off, frowning. “Unless that is what upsets you?”

“No, of course not. But don’t you feel strange?”

“I feel anticipation. I’ve shagged with my father in the house before. But I’ve never made love to the woman I want to marry with him nearby. The idea is t itillating.” He discarded his shirt.

The days and weeks of celibacy after his departure had felt longer than the months of retirement before his stay. His words warmed her heart, but his bare chest warmed other parts of her, the emphasis on the t ’s finally registering. Her skin grew sensitive, her clothes chafing, and her pulse beat in her throat and between her legs from the mere look of him. As he’d said, there was no reason to miss him when he was right in front of her, no matter what the future brought.

Tasty . She licked her lips.

When he chuckled, she realized she’d said it out loud.

Leading him to the bed, she gave him a gentle shove. Discarding her wrapper, she said, “I believe ’tis my turn to seduce you, my lord. Lie back and let me enjoy my t reat.”

“I’m all yours.”

She ignored his serious tone to enjoy the fun for the night. Tomorrow’s supper would be soon enough for him to see other’s reactions to her presence at an earl’s table.

The earl spent the day ensuring Belle felt welcome. He and Luke kept the conversation light, and after breakfast the three drove into town to stroll the shops.

It was a week before Christmas, and the northerners said snow was in the air, so Belle realized she might end up celebrating the holiday with her past and present lover if she did not leave soon. She promised herself she’d decide the next day, after supper with the earl’s current lover. Glad she wasn’t in charge of seating arrangements, she gave herself over to the holiday spirit and bought a few trinkets for Charlotte and herself.

There was nothing that spoke to her as a suitable gift for Luke, nor did she plan to be here to exchange Christmas presents. That thought caused an ache in her chest, but she ignored it and bought a hot chocolate for herself, the lords, and their driver. All three men noted her inclusion of the coachman with a smile.

Still, as evening approached, nerves got the better of her. She dithered over the gowns she’d brought, worrying over one being too bright, another being too low cut, then became annoyed with her lack of self-confidence.

Standing in front of the mirror, she practiced the phrase Charlotte had given her, finishing it this time. “I am equal to any man and better than most, and I deserve to be loved.”

Her voice came out as a whisper. Squaring her shoulders, she tried again, louder. Better. She almost believed it.

Shrugging, she chose the lower-cut gown which Luke had seen and complimented.

Luke and the earl were in the same front parlor with drinks when she arrived. When she slid a glance at Luke’s glass, he offered her a sip. “Cider.”

Shuddering, she accepted sherry from his father. Pacing, she turned back to find them watching her.

“Everything all right?” Luke asked.

Her chin went up. “Yes, thank you.” Realizing they were waiting for her to sit, she waved a hand. “Please, sit, I am just feeling restless.”

A footman entered. “Mrs. Whitcomb, your lordship.”

As he stepped aside, a woman about North’s age stepped forward. She was several inches shorter than Belle, and more than a few inches wider around. She appeared... cuddly.

Were you expecting a siren? Belle laughed at herself silently. While she was sure there were attractive women in Northumberland, and beauty took many forms, she had become too accustomed to all the accoutrements of London dress.

Belle had more jewels in her necklace than this woman did on her entire form. Her hair was pinned up in a loose chignon, a mix of blond and gray, and her dress was periwinkle lace over the same color underdress. The cut was several years out of date, but it flattered her rounded figure.

Belle ran a hand over her exposed décolletage self-consciously. Luke took a step closer behind her and placed his hand against her back. She dropped her arm and straightened an inch. The whole point of this dinner was to test others’ acceptance of her, after all. This was who she was.

The woman had a small furrow between her brows, and her mouth was pinched.

She looked as nervous as Belle felt.

North stepped forward, taking Mrs. Whitcomb’s hands and bussing her cheek before tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow to introduce her.

“Luke, allow me to introduce Eleanor Whitcomb.”

“My lord.” She executed a wobbly curtsy.

“No need to stand on ceremony,” Luke said with a smile. “It is lovely to meet you. Please, call me Luke.”

North’s shoulders relaxed as the widow exhaled a sigh that sounded like relief at the warmth of his reception. “Thank you, and you must call me Eleanor.”

He nodded, and North turned to face Belle.

She gulped.

Interesting. The widow mimicked her swallow. Belle’s shoulder muscles loosened a bit at that sign of nerves.

“Ellie, this is Belle. I’ve told you a little about her, but as my invitation noted, she is here with Luke.”

“’Tis a long journey from London. I am so glad you could join Luke for the holiday.”

North chuckled. “There is a bit of a story there, but I am glad we can all be here as well.”

Belle said, “Lovely to meet you. Can we also be Belle and Eleanor?” At the widow’s nod, she asked, “How did you two meet?”

Luke hovered near them, not quite part of the conversation, yet not standing apart either.

“We met at a New Year’s celebration in Old Shoreston. The public house there hosts a gathering for any townspeople who want to start the new year with their neighbors. Apparently, Giles was feeling particularly alone out here in this pile of stone and joined us for the first time.”

“Hold now. This pile of rocks is going to be your home soon,” North remarked, but he was laughing.

The widow swallowed hard again.

“I’d negotiate for a large allowance for updating the decor,” Belle leaned in to mock-whisper without thinking.

Eleanor shot her a grateful look before elbowing North in the ribs. “That is an excellent idea. I shall.”

North groaned. “Belle, please. Do not coach her in negotiating. I’ll be destitute.”

Luke snickered and stepped into the group. “I’ll keep her busy helping me negotiate all the work for Free Your Spirts, if she’ll allow me.”

“What is that?”

A servant announced supper, so Luke explained his idea and the background for it over the soup course.

Eleanor seemed very interested and asked several questions as the servants changed out plates for the next course.

Belle smiled at Luke’s animated answers and moving hands. She dearly wanted to help him see this project through, but she also wanted him to succeed without help, as she knew he could. More than that, she simply wanted to be with him. However, she could not reconcile just how to do that without causing him harm in society. And she declined to be anyone’s mistress again.

The Black Widow hadn’t accepted her change in parameters, and now she was relieved. She did not want anyone besides Luke. Reminding herself she had deferred any decision until after evaluating this woman’s reaction to her, she shook off her thoughts and rejoined the conversation.

Eleanor said, “That sounds wonderful, Luke. We’d like to come visit and see if we can help when it’s established. I wish my son would find his calling.”

“You have a son?”

“Two, actually. One, Bruce, manages the public house in town where Giles and I met. My younger son, Alexander, works for his brother, but is contemplating either going to London or joining the military. He is a restless soul.”

“How old are they?” Belle asked.

“Six-and-twenty and two-and-twenty.”

Both were close to Luke’s age. Thinking of Luke’s mother dying and its effect on him, Belle asked, “May I ask how old they were when their father passed?”

“Ah, well.” The widow stared down at her food, her cheeks darkening. “I can’t tell you about Bruce’s father. He was a mistake I made at seventeen. The father, not Bruce, of course. I moved here after he was born and presented myself as a widow for respectability, as I’m sure you can understand.”

Belle nodded.

Eleanor continued. “I met Alexander’s father two years later. We fell in love and married, and he raised Bruce as his just as he did Alexander until he succumbed to a fever five years ago. This weather is tough on people, and I almost moved south. I’m so glad I didn’t.”

North reached out to pat her hand. “As am I.”

Belle was stunned. This woman had borne a child out of wedlock, yet an earl was marrying her. Yes, it was North, who was the most open-minded earl she’d met, but it was still staggering to consider.

Luke stepped into the silence. “Perhaps we can go into town for midday dinner at the pub tomorrow and meet them?”

North shot his son a grateful look.

“That would be lovely. They’ve met Giles, of course, but they’re still shy around a titled lord, no matter how often I tell them he chews his food the same as we all do.”

Belle giggled, delighted by the older woman’s pragmatic view of North. “Giles, eh? I’d forgotten that was your name.”

North smiled.

Eleanor responded. “I like having a special name for him, just as he is the only person I’ll allow to call me Ellie. My sons were shocked when they heard him use it.”

Damnation, she liked this woman. However, she needed to push the situation to show Luke what people’s reactions to him would be to reinforce her reasons not to wed him.

“I am sorry I won’t be able to meet your sons. I am leaving on the morrow.”

“Bellissima, no—” Luke started.

Eleanor’s brows drew together. “You are not staying for Christmas? And perhaps the wedding? I was very much hoping you’d consider standing up with me.”

“You’ve just met me.” Belle gaped at her. Perhaps the woman did not know about her past. It was time to enlighten her. “Besides, I hardly think it appropriate for a courtesan to be standing up for anyone at a wedding, especially the person marrying her past paramour.”

Luke gasped and North frowned.

Before they intervened, Eleanor replied, “Don’t be silly, my dear. That was years ago, and obviously you both have found better matches. You are here with Luke, are you not?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“I am not in a place to cast stones, based on my past. Nor did I expect Giles to have remained celibate after his wife passed over a decade ago.” Eleanor shrugged. “I do not see the problem.”

That had not gone as planned. Belle’s confused gaze slid to Luke, who wore a huge grin. Her jaw clenched.