To Paul’s utter surprise, Reggie smirked at him. “Why should you kill me, Leed? Why this time?”
“What?” Paul’s eyes narrowed. “State your meaning.”
Reggie only grinned. Paul’s fingers itched to throttle him. He stilled when Roberts placed a hand on his arm.
“Leed,” Roberts said. “Let the bastard go.”
Paul only shook his head, his eyes still on Reggie. “Leave us, Roberts.”
After a hesitation Roberts did as Paul requested, closing the double doors.
“What are you talking about, Thomas?” Paul asked.
“He’s lying, Paul,” Michelle said. She came slowly to her feet. “I have never let him touch me.”
Paul glanced over to where she stood unsteadily on her feet. He dropped Reggie to land on his rump. Paul quickly crossed over to his wife, cupping her face with his hand.
“I know you haven’t dallied with this scoundrel, Michelle,” he said. “Leave us. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Michelle closed her eyes and nodded mutely as Becca escorted her out of the library.
Reggie stood and attempted to straighten his foppish clothes as Paul smirked in disgust. He reached out and deftly snagged the man’s lapel again. “Tell me what you meant, you son-of-a bitch. Tell me now or I
will
kill you.”
Reggie blinked at the glare in Paul’s eyes. He took a step back. “I merely meant that my fair cousin and I have had many opportunities to enjoy each other’s company of late.”
“You lying bastard.”
Reggie shrugged. “What of our carriage ride, Leed? Surely Michelle told you of it.”
Paul had sensed something had happened on Michelle’s ride with the dandy, and now his suspicions surged to the front of his mind. “What of your carriage ride?”
“Oh? Didn’t she tell you where we went that day? We went to her late father’s solicitor.”
Paul blinked. She didn’t. She couldn’t! “No.”
“Yes!” Reggie crowed. “You see, the gift so generously bestowed upon you by my father should have been yours already. If you weren’t such a proud man.”
Paul looked away, the truth of Michelle’s betrayal heavy in his heart. He braced his hands on the desk.
“She approached me, you see,” Reggie went on. “She needed my assistance in order to perpetrate the ruse on you, her unsuspecting husband.”
Paul rounded on him. “What else, Thomas? What else happened?”
“Michelle was very grateful, you see,” Reggie said. “She’d seen your ledgers and—”
“What?”
Reggie winced but managed to continue. “She’d seen your ledgers and knew you needed her money but were too stubborn to take it. As I said, she was extremely grateful to me.”
Paul regained himself and grabbed Reggie once more. “She didn’t seem grateful this evening, you bastard. You forced yourself on her!”
“Did I? Michelle is a passionate woman, Leed. Quick to anger and even quicker to arouse.”
“You bastard!” Paul punched him squarely in the jaw.
He let Reggie drop once more and spun on his heel. He’d barely reached the door when Reggie called out to him.
“Think about it, Leed,” Reggie said. “She lied about the money. And what about your speeches? Something about the Chancery that didn’t quite win the day for your client?”
Paul’s stomach clenched. “Did you…? God, did she?”
Reggie simple grinned. Without sparing the fop another glance, Paul grunted and took himself upstairs.
When he walked into the Rose Room, he found Michelle alone. She sat in the big gilded bed, wearing her nightgown and wrapper. Her eyes were huge in her pale face, her bruises and bloodied lip starkly evident. He fought the urge to take her into his arms.
“How are you feeling?” he asked from the doorway.
She waved his question away. “I know what Reggie told you, Paul.”
Paul advanced on her, struggling to keep his temper in check. “Do you?” He sat on the bed. “Pray, tell me what you know.”
Michelle blinked at him, tears filling her eyes. She broke down and told him all of it, from her nosing in his study and her discovery of his speeches, to her studying his ledgers and thinking to transfer her money to him. Lastly she admitted lifting his very words from his speeches.
He tried, he really tried to hold his composure, but her words cut him to the very bone. Despite all of his good intentions he pulled away from her, her tears only serving to inflame his anger.
“You conniving little bitch,” he said, his voice low. “All this time, you’ve been sneaking around with that dandy? Feeding him my work to further his career? Did you also give him your body?”
She shook her head wildly. “He tried to force me, Paul.” She came to her knees on the bed. “Only yesterday he did the same. Here in this very chamber.”
Paul thought of the mark on her cheek, of the scratches on Reggie’s face, and believed she was telling the truth about that. But any compassion he might have felt for her was eclipsed by his rage over her treachery.
He came to his feet. “You’ve betrayed me in every other respect, Michelle.”
“Paul!” She reached for him. “I love you!”
He stepped out of her grasp, striving to keep all evidence of the tender emotion from his face. “That is unfortunate.”
Michelle fell back onto the bed, great choking sobs tearing from her throat. He took himself into the adjoining sitting room and closed the door tightly on her cries. Sleeping in one of the damned wing chairs would very likely cripple him. Well, he more than likely wouldn’t sleep at all. He removed his jacket and laid it over one of the wing chairs. Loosening his cravat, he rang for the butler.
Hours later Paul sprawled in the wing chair, a nearly empty bottle of brandy in one hand, a glass in the other. His legs were stretched out in front of him, his head resting on the back of the chair. He’d tried to block all thought of Michelle from his mind. God help him, he couldn’t.
Her face floated before of him, a loving smile on her lips. And all the while she was going behind his back to Reginald Thomas, of all men! She’d gone through Paul’s personal property. She’d looked at his ledgers and taken it upon herself to meddle in his financial affairs. Paul’s lip curled as he recalled that day she took her ride with Reggie. Michelle had seemed so out of sorts at her mother’s house. And later, in his study… He shook his head. He wouldn’t think about that, about her passion that had stunned and delighted him.
Her betrayal wasn’t over, though. She’d gone through his speeches and discredited him in front of some of his most influential clients. Clients who would more than likely take their business elsewhere. More than likely to that bastard Reggie Thomas.
He rubbed his burning eyes and poured the remainder of the bottle into his glass.
* * * *
Michelle arose the next morning and tried to make some sense of what had happened last night. Impossible. Choking back a sob, she washed and dressed herself. She donned a pretty day dress of sunshine yellow, the color depicting a brightness and gaiety she didn’t feel. Sitting at the vanity, she slowly dragged her brush through her hair. She didn’t ring for her lady’s maid, loath to face another human being that morning.
Paul stalked through the chamber, not sparing her a passing glance as he went into the dressing room. She watched the door in anticipation. When he came out, clean-shaven and dressed impeccably, she had trouble equating him with the man who had coldly cut himself from her last night.
Nevertheless, she squared her shoulders and readied herself for the inevitable confrontation. “Paul, we need to talk.”
He ran his gaze over her, his face set. “We have nothing to discuss.”
Michelle watched as he walked to the door. “You are a fool.”
He froze, then turned on his heel to face her once more. “What did you say?”
She gripped the edge of the vanity and stood, meeting his glare. “I said you are a fool.”
“Why you little bitch. After all you’ve done…” He took a deep breath. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I am a fool for having trusted you.”
Anger surged through her. Everything was her fault? Hers alone? “Paul, if it hadn’t been for your pride—”
“My pride?” he cut in. “And what precisely does my pride have to do with anything?”
She lifted her chin. “Your foolish pride kept you from taking my dowry, something that was your right. And my privilege to give you.”
“Again it comes back to your dowry.” A wry smile curved his lips. “Money is all you care about, isn’t it, wife?”
She blinked in confusion.
“You’re a spoiled little girl, Michelle,” he went on. “Your father showered you with jewels, set aside a ridiculous dowry for your future husband—”
“Ridiculous?” she asked. “Pray, why is my dowry ridiculous?”
“It is an insult!” he raged. “Fifty-five thousand pounds! As if your future husband would be incapable of supporting you in a proper manner.”
“You’re being foolish again, Paul,” she stated, her hands in fists at her side.
“You’re the fool, wife, if you believed I wouldn’t find out about your treachery with your cousin.”
“I had no choice!”
“No choice?” He leaned his head back, a dark brow arched. “Why, pray, is that?”
“You couldn’t trust me with your problems, your… your concerns.”
“You have no business in my affairs, Michelle,” he said coldly. “You would do best to remember that.”
“Oh?” she taunted. “Is that so? And what of our children? Surely any difficulty with your finances will affect them.”
Paul grabbed her by the arms. “You know nothing of my finances.”
“I only know what I saw, Paul.” She struggled to free herself but he held her tight. “You’ve never shared your concerns with me, your wife! And what of your speeches?”
“My speeches? The very words you stole and fed to your cousin?” His eyes narrowed. “If I’d known you were such a prying busybody, I never would have married you,” he said bitingly. He spared her a leering glance. “Though I’ll admit you’re quite a tasty piece in bed.”
His harsh words cut her and she lowered her eyes to the floor. He released her and stepped back, raking his fingers through his hair.
“You wouldn’t have married me?” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the carpet beneath her feet.
Paul took a step toward her, but when he touched her shoulder she brought her head up.
“How, then, would you assuage your lust, Paul? If that is indeed the only purpose I serve?”
He pulled back as if she struck him. “Perhaps I’d find a mistress,” he said. “A quiet little chit who’d only open her mouth to take me in it.”
“You bastard.”
She beat her fists against his chest. He easily held her away from him, bitter laughter coming from his throat.
“Perhaps you could take a lover yourself, Michelle,” he said. “I’m quite certain Reggie would have you.”
Michelle gasped at his words.
“Reggie attacked me, Paul,” she whispered. “Surely you saw that.”
Paul said nothing.
“You’re not a fool, Paul.” She shook her head. “I’m the fool for falling in love with such a proud and stubborn man.”
She turned to walk away from him, but he caught her easily.
She looked down at his hand, wrapped tightly around her arm. “Take your hand from me.”
“I think not,” Paul rasped, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him.
Michelle saw it then, the desire in his gaze, and tried to pull away. He crushed his mouth to hers even as she held her mouth closed tight. He forced her back towards the bed, his hands reaching up under her skirts to cup her bottom. She fought him but Paul easily subdued her, laying his big body on top of hers on the bed. She finally relented, her chest heaving as she took in big gulps of air. She glared up at him.
“Ah yes,” he said in triumph. “Here’s my hot little wench.”
Michelle could only shake her head mutely at him. He leaned up on one elbow and trailed a finger over the silken skin above her bodice. He bent his head and ran the tip of his tongue over her flesh. Smiling wickedly at her, he reached under her skirts once more and removed her drawers. When he touched her damp flesh, he swore softly.
His eyes flew to hers. “You want me?”
She closed her eyes tightly. “Always.”
Michelle turned her head away. Paul stroked her as she whimpered her pleasure. He pulled back and unbuttoned his breeches. With one thrust, he entered her. He drove into her, his thrusts deep and hard. Her body bowed back with her release and he swore once more. He poured himself into her, groaning softly.
When he ceased shaking, he came away from her to stand beside the bed. She watched him through hooded eyes as he tucked his shirt into his breeches.
“I suggest you cover yourself,” he said. “You look like a trollop with your legs spread, with my seed on you.”
Michelle sat up and covered her legs with a flick of her skirts. “You are a hateful man.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I know I can trust your body, if nothing else.”
Paul turned to leave, but something held him back. “Michelle,” he began softly. “I’m sorry.”
She closed her eyes. “Please leave me,” she said, her throat tight.
He opened his mouth to say more, but only nodded before he left the room.
Michelle rose and cleaned herself, relieved her dress wasn’t too badly wrinkled. She brushed her hair once more and, after nearly half an hour had passed, joined her husband downstairs.
When she walked into the breakfast room, her eyes immediately settled on Paul. He sat at one end of the table, in deep conversation with Lords Chester and Roberts. The gentlemen stood when they saw her.
“Good morning, Lady Michelle,” Roberts said with a bow. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Her eyes darted to Paul’s. She looked back at the handsome man smiling at her. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking, Lord Roberts.”
She nodded to the others and went to the sideboard to make her selection for breakfast. She wasn’t very hungry. Truth be told, her stomach was queasy. Little wonder, that. She chose a small portion of eggs accompanied by a roll, much less than she usually ate in the morning.
When she joined Paul at the table, he placed his napkin beside his dish. “Michelle, I’m accompanying Chester to his estate in Cheshire.”