Chapter 16

Bella stumbled out of the garden, tears blurring her vision.

She had sent Lord Ramsgate back to the house with a handful of scavenger treasures, more to be rid of him for a few moments than to free up any real space in her arms, and walked to the gardens in search of the rose clue.

She hadn't even heard voices to warn her of what she would encounter at the center of the garden. Suddenly she rounded a corner in the hedge to see Simon in Amelia Lafleche's arms, her hands caressing his handsome face, and Bella had heard the woman blatantly ask Simon to take her as a mistress.

She did not wait to hear more. How could she? What she had already overheard and seen cut her like a knife. The tears came thick and fast when she was free of the garden, and she was tempted to break into a run. The Bella of her childhood would have fled to the safety of the forest, but she was not that Bella any longer. She slowed her step as she neared the apple orchard and stopped for a moment by a tree to rest her hand on the lowest limb. She took a few sobbing breaths and calmed herself.

"Stop," she said in a shuddering voice to herself. "Stop it, Bella."

Her body obeyed her by degrees, though her heart was still staggering around in blind confusion. I thought we meant something to each other. I loved him. I…I…love him still.

But he was Amelia's. She had wondered as much when she first met the brilliant, aristocratic Frenchwoman, but to see it in such a clear tableau rocked her to her core. Simon. She thought of the moment they had shared in the forest, in the garden at Lady Ellory's before that, and then just last night in the library.

Each of those moments had seemed to hold in it a thousand whispered promises, as though Simon was holding something back that he really and truly meant to confess. Now, embarrassed and miserable, Bella could see the truth at last. Simon was just being kind. He had no secret love to confess to her—he was just a friend, an older brother even, who saw her still as James' little sister. He was a man who needed a real woman, not some childish girl who had been gone from his life for five years. All the moments of longing or wistfulness she had seen in his eyes were manufactured by her own heart and her own desire.

The tears were threatening to come back, and she could not let that happen. Lord Ramsgate was already striding across the lawn in her direction, having spotted her by the orchard as she intended. He would be here in a matter of minutes.

She turned briefly away, reaching gloved hands up to brush tears out of her eyes. She pinched her cheeks to restore color, and took a deep breath. Then another. When she turned back to greet Lord Ramsgate at last, it was with the same placid face she had mastered all those years ago in Ireland.

"You've returned so quickly," she said, smiling and extending her hand. "Shall we go on to the next clue?"

***

She did not have a chance to speak with Simon again until after the evening meal that night. The scavenger hunt ended, and Simon and Amelia were still nowhere to be seen. Bella knew that it was possible they had ended before her and Lord Ramsgate, but she couldn't help thinking that maybe they were still back in the garden, in each other's arms.

The evening meal was a grand one, but she was separated from Simon and Grace by the length of the table. She resigned herself to endure yet another of Lord Ramsgate's speeches about the great romantic poets of our time while she smiled and nodded and tried not to look in Simon's direction.

After the meal, she made her way with the other guests to the drawing room for a quiet evening of conversation. A table was drawn up by the fireplace for some cards, and in the corner a few women pulled out their embroidery to accompany pleasant chatting. Bella made for this group, which held the safety of Grace's company, but on her way across the room Simon stepped out in front of her.

He was smiling, as though nothing at all had happened. As though she had seen nothing earlier. Of course, he will not know that I saw him, she tried to tell herself. He thinks his dalliance is as secret as it ever was.

Still, she could not bring herself to smile back at him. "Mr. Lyndon?"

"What did you think of Falconer after last night?" he asked. "Did it serve your sleep well?"

"I did not have a chance to read the poem," she lied. In fact, she had stayed up in the throes of The Shipwreck with a childlike fascination until the early hours of the morning. "I'm not sure I will, with all the excitement to be had at a house party such as this."

"Ah," he said. "You are speaking of our little competition earlier today. How did you fare on the scavenger hunt, my lady?"

Worse than you know. "Lord Ramsgate was a worthy partner."

Simon raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly desperate to be free of him. Standing so close, looking at his strong jaw and compassionate eyes, she couldn't get the image of Amelia Lafleche stroking his face out of her mind. "In fact," she said, turning in search of the man she had previously wanted to avoid at all costs, "I should go to his side now. I promised him I wouldn't stay away long."

She turned quickly, walking over to where Lord Ramsgate was joking with one of his young friends, and took up residence at the future duke's side. For the remainder of the evening, Bella forced herself to hang on Lord Ramsgate's every word. When he told a joke, no matter how funny, she laughed. When he complimented her, she managed a coy blush. When he rambled on about his interest in the flora and fauna of northern Scotland, she gave him her full attention. It was everything she could do to avoid looking across the room to see if Simon was with Amelia, but she managed it in the end.

When the group parted at last to go up to their separate bedrooms, Bella waited as long as she could by Lord Ramsgate's side to ensure that Simon had time to leave before she slipped away. Even so, she wasn't quite to her room when she heard Simon call her name from behind.

She hesitated, and then turned slowly to meet his gaze.

"Mr. Lyndon?"

He looked around the empty hall and raised his hands in a questioning manner. "Why are you so formal with me, Bella? There is no one here to see."

"I call you Mr. Lyndon because that is your name," she said, unable to keep the sharpness from her voice. "And I am not inordinately formal with you. I am formal with everyone. It is what is expected of me."

"And you always do what is expected of you," Simon said, frowning.

She could not stand this sanctimonious manner for a man who had been wrapped in the arms of a seductress only a few hours before. "Please, spare me your insight into how I conduct myself," she snapped. "I have heard plenty about how you think I have changed and how you think I should be more like my old self. Well, I don't want to be like my old self. My old self was impetuous and thoughtless and threw herself into situations that hurt other people."

Simon took a step forward. "And what of your new self? I saw you down there in the parlor, fluttering around the social scene like any other silly girl from the ton. Are you happy to sell your personality away for the sake of a few manufactured giggles?"

Fury flushed Bella's face. "You have no right to criticize me or the other women of the ton," she said, stepping towards him until they were only an arm's length away. "You can very well sit by and judge the women who are forced to use giggles and sighs to secure the future of their families, while you enjoy the luxury of being a man who can marry whoever he wants."

"I can't marry whoever I want!" he exclaimed, his eyes hiding some unspoken thing.

"Oh yes, I forgot," she said, ice flowing through her veins. "You are held back so dreadfully, aren't you? If a marriage isn't in the cards, you can simply take some other avenue to make the lady your own. How tremendously confining for you."

He looked taken aback. "I don't have the remotest idea what you're speaking of, Bella."

"I'm speaking of all the people who have opinions about the way women like I behave," she said. She was so angry she was seeing red. She couldn't get the thought of Amelia out of her mind. "Do you know how discouraging it is to finally be operating within the requirements society has set for me and to find you condemning me around every corner?"

"Well, perhaps I don't agree with society," Simon said. His eyes flashed with an anger that matched Bella's own feelings.

Bella turned to go, and then whirled back around to face him, pointing her finger at his chest. "You're no different than my parents, you know. You have expectations for me that are impossible for me to fill."

"I am the furthest thing from your parents." Simon's jaw worked in frustration. "I have your best interest at heart. Where is this coming from, Bella? I'm confused—"

"Well then," she snapped, "let me make myself utterly clear." She stepped forward and tipped her head back to look at him, so near that she could almost feel his chest rising and falling before her. "You have no input into my life, Simon. Spare me your lectures about the ‘New Lady Isabella' and how you despise her, they will have no impact on me. I don't care what you think about the men I spend time around, or the way I behave. I don't care about you at all."

"You don't mean that," Simon said, his voice deathly calm.

"I assure you I mean every word." She turned on her heel and walked away, glad that she escaped before he could see the tears burning her eyes.