Read Pride and Fire Online

Authors: Jomarie Degioia

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical

Pride and Fire (26 page)

He straightened. “I’ll need more information before the Season commences, in any event.”

Michelle’s stomach dipped. “What do you mean?”

“Did you think I’d be satisfied with three speeches?” He shook his head. “No. In this, I am much like your husband.” He grinned. “Insatiable.”

“I won’t do it again, Reggie.”

“Oh, you shall. In fact, I can think of several other, um, favors of yours that will help keep me quiet on the subject.”

Disgust froze her. He touched her breast and unwittingly brought her back to herself. She brought her hand up and raked her fingers over his cheek, drawing blood. He let out a howl of pain, his hand coming to touch his injured skin.

He saw the blood on his fingertips and glared at her.

“You bitch,” he growled through clenched teeth. “You ungrateful girl.”

Before Michelle could stop him, he grabbed her by the shoulders and ripped her chemise down the middle. He stared down at her. “Very nice, cousin.”

His hand closed over her breast, squeezing painfully. She fought to throw him off her and he slapped her.

“Do you like it this way, love?” he sneered, holding her arms down at her sides. “Does Leed use force on you?”

“Let me go!”

“I don’t think so, dear cousin,” he replied. “You owe me dearly for our deception on your unsuspecting husband.”

Her anger turned to fear, sharp and sickening. “Please don’t do this, Reggie.”

He laughed, an ugly sound. He bent his head, seeking her mouth with his. She turned to the side and avoided the kiss, but barely. Reggie grabbed her chin and turned her to face him once more.

“Beg me, Michelle,” he said, staring down at her.

She couldn’t speak, disgust and horror thrumming in her veins. He smiled at his apparent victory and bent his head once more. The sound of men’s voices were heard in the hall. The gentlemen returned from their hunt. Michelle looked warily at Reggie, reading the fear in his eyes then.

He looked at her breasts once more, regret clear on his face, and released her. “Tell no one of this, cousin. Our arrangement will have to be delayed, more’s the pity.”

She slumped against the wall as he crossed to the door. Michelle watched as he listened intently. Apparently satisfied no one was about, he left the room.

Michelle clutched her tattered chemise to her bosom, crying softly. Surely Reggie would have raped her right there, in the beautiful room she’d loved since childhood. What if Paul found her in this condition? How would she explain Reggie’s involvement? Dear God, it would all come out.

She wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders, taking herself into the dressing room to change into a new chemise.

When Paul strode into the chamber a scant ten minutes later, her relief was a living thing. Unable to help herself, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

He was taken aback, but only for a moment before he returned her embrace. “What is it, love?”

When she didn’t answer, he gently grasped her chin and tilted her face up to his. Anger turned his eyes hard as ice. “What the hell happened?”

“I…,” Michelle stammered. She touched her cheek. “I tripped and—”

“You tripped?” he asked. “What kind of nonsense is that?”

She blinked up at him, wanting more than anything to tell him the truth. Surely Paul would flatten Reggie, and what could be more fitting than that? In the end she reiterated her lie. There was no other choice, was there?

“I caught my petticoat on the bedpost and tripped. I hit the bedstand.”

Paul studied her for a long moment, apparently weighing her words. He brought his hand to her cheek and tenderly stroked it. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. He kissed her gently, erasing any remnant of Reggie’s attempted kiss.

When they joined their friends for tea in the parlor Michelle was relieved to find Reggie absent. She and Paul chatted amiably with their friends, the horrific events of the afternoon pushed to the back of her mind. The mark on her cheek had faded and, with the aid of some powder, no one seemed to notice it. As they ascended the staircase to ready themselves for the evening’s festivities, Michelle felt nearly her usual self. Paul ordered a bath for her and took himself off to dress. She sank into the steaming tub of water, Reggie’s touch finally cleansed from her body. But his threat was still there, lurking in the back of her mind.

Nearly an hour later, Paul stepped out of the dressing room, clad in his formal black. Michelle stood in front of the cheval mirror, wearing a gown of crimson. He called to her and she turned.

“My God,” he said. “You look delicious, love.”

She arched a brow at his choice of words. He crossed to her and she ran her hands over his shoulders. “I do so love to see you in your formal attire, husband. Though I fear the young ladies will swoon.”

He laughed and brought his hand to her cheek as he had earlier. “The mark is nearly gone.”

Refusing to let Reggie intrude, she kissed Paul once more and left the circle of his arms.

At the vanity, Michelle picked up the necklace she’d chosen to wear. The pendant was a magnificent ruby, emerald-cut and surrounded by diamonds, and dangling from a thin gold chain. She held the necklace out to her husband.

Paul took the piece of jewelry from her fingers and fastened it behind her neck. “I never realized you had so much jewelry.”

“My father was very generous.”

He grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. The ruby rested at the swell of her breast. He traced his fingers over the stone, and caressed the flesh beneath it. An indefinable expression clouded his beautiful eyes. When he brought his eyes up to her face, her pulse quickened at the heat in his eyes.

“We’d better go downstairs, husband,” she said.

Paul growled softly, which she took as reluctant agreement.

Paul held his arm out to Michelle and led her down the grand staircase to the marble-tiled landing below. Being the guests of honor had duties as well as privileges. They stood with Lady Helen, who practically beamed her excitement. She looped her arm through her son-in-law’s, greeting the guests as they descended the staircase.

“Reggie!” Lady Helen exclaimed. “What happened to you, my dear?”

Paul threw a sharp glance in Reggie’s direction and saw the long angry scratches on the left side of the man’s face.

Reggie’s eyes settled on Michelle for a moment before he looked once more at his doting aunt. “I’m afraid I was a bit clumsy, dear Aunt,” he said smoothly. “I was strolling down by the lake and lost my footing.” He brought his fingers to his cheek. “The rocks are wicked sharp, I daresay.”

“Oh, you could have been seriously hurt,” Lady Helen said.

Reggie looked once more at Michelle and favored her with a wry smile. “I don’t think so, Aunt. Not I.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed at the anger in the man’s eyes. And was there something else there, as well? Cockiness? He felt Michelle’s fingers twitched on his arm. Reggie gave a curt nod in her direction and took himself into main salon.

Paul couldn’t follow the man at the moment, but he’d keep an eye on the dandy.

 

* * * *

 

“Michelle, love,” Reggie said.

Michelle managed to meet his gaze. “Reggie.”

He smiled at Becca and Paul’s sisters before gazing with false fondness at Michelle. “I’d hoped to share a dance with you earlier.”

Michelle stiffened, earning a look of speculation from Becca. What a fool she’d been to think she could avoid Reggie’s company all evening. He’d all but accused her of causing the scratches to his cheek earlier, and in front of Paul. And she’d kept mute, naturally. No doubt he counted on her giving nothing away in front of her friends, either.

“I’m afraid my husband prefers I dance only with him,” she said with a smile.

“Leed’s much like my husband in that regard, I daresay,” Becca put in.

Paul’s sisters giggled and Reggie lost his composure.

“Well, then,” he said to Michelle, “perhaps I can convince you to take a turn with me?”

Michelle knew that to refuse a request to stroll about with him would seem odd at the least and rude at the worst. Surely he wouldn’t attempt an assault here. Not with so many in attendance. She inclined her head and Reggie grabbed her elbow. She winced as Reggie’s fingers dug into her flesh.

He bent his head to hers. “Smile, cousin.”

She just couldn’t. The best she could manage was a look of detachment. Reggie chuckled softly and began to walk, all but dragging her toward the terrace.

With a nod to the couples strolling about the terrace, he led Michelle around the corner.

Her heart beat furiously in her breast and she dug in her heels. “Where are we going?”

“Come now,” Reggie ordered in a low voice. “You and I have some unfinished business, cousin.”

That statement froze her in her tracks. “No,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he growled softly.

With a sneer curling his thin lips, Reggie pulled hard on her arm. She yelped, more in surprise than pain. He took the opportunity to walk her swiftly into the library, pushing her into the room ahead of him.

Michelle turned to glare at him. “Let me out of here this instant.” Outrage made her voice hoarse.

“Hush,” Reggie said calmly as he closed and latched the double doors. “I believe I have yet to extract a promise from you, dear cousin.”

He turned back to her, the look in his eyes chilling.

Chapter 25

Reggie slowly advanced on Michelle.

“Surely you can’t think to try this here,” she said. “Not with all these people about.”

Reggie shrugged his narrow shoulders. “What do I care of the company?” he said lightly. “And with that god-awful orchestra, no one will hear us.”

Her heart pounding, Michelle backed away from him, bound for the door that led into the corridor.

Reggie laughed, an ugly sound in the stillness of the room. “Don’t try it, cousin.” He held up a small key. “It’s locked.”

He placed the key in the pocket of his jacket. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something, anything, that would get her away from Reggie. What could she do to stop him? A thought came to her and she suddenly shifted. She placed her hands behind her, trailing her fingers over the many thick books on the shelves at her back.

“Don’t think to fight me, love,” he sneered. “Though I must say your fire excited me greatly this afternoon.” He lifted his hand to his injured cheek. “I shall insist you keep those pretty satin gloves on, however. Your claws sheathed, if you will.”

Maybe she could appeal to the scoundrel’s compassion, to their familial connection. “Reggie, please don’t do this.”

He grinned lasciviously at her, dispelling any hope of compassion. She turned her attention once more to the books at her back and waited for him to step closer. When he was in striking distance, she picked a heavy book and hurled it at his head. He saw it in time and ducked. Nevertheless, the book landed squarely on his shoulder.

He rubbed the injury, giving Michelle a look of grudging respect. “I hadn’t anticipated your ingenuity, cousin,” he said, one thin brow arched. “Although you did manage to get me the information I needed and when I needed it. Perhaps you’re creative in other areas as well.”

She turned and picked up another book, grateful her late father had enjoyed the lengthy editions. She threw the book at Reggie, who avoided it completely as he advanced on her.

“Please don’t misuse those fine books, Michelle. They’ll be mine one day.”

That statement caused her to straighten. Positioning herself behind the desk, she cocked her head at him. “That’s right. You’ll have the title and all the properties one day. What do you want with me?”

Reggie’s lips curled as he reached out and grabbed her arms. “I want all of it, dear cousin,” he said. “Thomasham, the house in London… A secret reputation to rival your husband’s. And your luscious body to warm my bed, of course.”

Michelle struggled in earnest. No amount of talking would stop him now. He threw her against the bookshelves, his hands never losing their grip. She winced as the shelves dug into her back. She opened her eyes and glared at him once more.

“That’s it,” Reggie rasped. “Show me your fire, Michelle.”

He crushed his mouth to hers and she could taste her own blood. He ripped the front of her gown, his fingers digging painfully into her breast. He closed his eyes and growled with pleasure.

“Let me go!” she pleaded, struggling.

She managed to bring her knee up to his groin, but dealt him only a glancing blow.

“Bitch.” He grabbed her hair and yanked hard. She yelped in pain as Reggie slapped his hand across her face. He pulled back to deal her another blow.

“Take your hands off my wife.”

 

Reggie froze, turning as Paul stalked toward him. “Leed, I—”

Reggie’s words were cut off as Paul grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and lifted him off the floor. Paul brought him close as he smashed his fist into his face. He punched him once more and dropped him to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Paul looked to where Michelle cowered near the bookcase, her arms wrapped around herself. Becca was beside her, stroking her brow. Paul crossed to her and Becca stood and stepped back. He crouched down beside her and lifted her chin. Michelle blinked tearfully up at him.

“My God,” Paul whispered as he saw the extent of her injuries.

Michelle’s face was swollen from Reggie’s blows, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. The front of her gown was torn, her breasts uncovered. How dare the bastard touch her! If Becca hadn’t told Paul of her suspicions of Reggie, he never would have come looking for them. He managed to rein in his anger and hugged Michelle gently.

She held on tight. “I’m sorry, Paul.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Paul,” she whispered, her eyes closed. “I’m so glad you came.”

He brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Shh, love.”

A groan was heard from the floor. Roberts stood over Reggie, disgust clear on his face. Paul left Michelle to Becca’s care for the moment.

He crossed to Reggie and pulled him up off the floor. “I should kill you, Thomas.”

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