The Corinthian Duke Page 18

  Actually, that was untrue. She had. Twice.

  Once, when he’d kept Pearl hanging on for a wedding date, and the second when he’d run away from her.

  She’d always assumed keeping Pearl waiting had been the natural disinclination of a young man unwilling to give up his freedom. That it had been more than that had been a surprise.

  But the way he’d left her alone for weeks had indicated just how unhappy their marriage had made him, and that had hurt. So, how could she believe his words now? He’d come back, taken one look at her, and decided he was in love, or at least that he desired her?

  It seemed rather doubtful.

  She needed to know if any of what he said was real, or if he was just trying to do his duty and keep his wife happy despite his own feelings. How could she tell, though?

  And, if he didn’t desire her, was it too late to make it happen? Was it something she could learn? A feeling she could encourage if only she knew the trick of it?

  Her stomach quivered with anxiety. Ranleigh would know, and he would guide her.

  For a moment, she regretted that her relationship with Pearl wasn’t the kind where she could ask for her sister’s advice, but that was a hope that had long since died. Ella remembered then the curve of an elegant silk-clad arm, pulling one of their father’s footmen into a secluded corner. What on earth had Pearl been up to?

  Whatever it was, it was none of her business, and Pearl certainly wouldn’t invite her interference. Besides, Ella had troubles enough of her own.

  To her everlasting relief, Oscar was nowhere to be seen and she was so early that she startled the staff, who were laying the table.

  Ella bolted down a slice of pound cake and a cup of tea and then ran for the stables before anyone could stop her. She’d be far too early to meet Ranleigh, but at least she’d be free and have time to think before the appointed hour.

  ***

  Oscar looked up from the breakfast table as Bertie strolled in, yawning his head off.

  “Morning,” he said, nodding at Oscar and sitting down at his elbow. Bertie frowned, giving him a quizzical look. “Why so Friday faced? You look like you’ve lost a shilling and found sixpence.”

  “Because I’ve lost a friend and found an acquaintance,” Oscar replied, a little gloomy.

  He’d hoped things had changed, at least a little, after their picnic yesterday. Yet he’d come down to breakfast to discover Ella had already left. Now, there was one thing he did know about Ella. She hated early mornings and, to his knowledge. had never risen before him. This meant she was avoiding him.

  “You can’t expect her to run back into your arms just because you’ve come home,” Bertie replied as he loaded his plate. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  Oscar huffed. “I know that, and I’m not complaining.” Well, actually he was. “But I think she’s avoiding me.”

  Bertie raised one rather cynical eyebrow. “Imagine that,” he said, deadpan.

  “You’re not helping.” Oscar glowered at him. “I’m an idiot. I know it, you know it, and Ella certainly knows it. So, how do I make it better?”

  “Keep trying,” Bertie said, slicing his bacon up with neat, precise little cuts.

  “Do you know where she’s gone this morning?” Oscar asked, feeling he’d hit a new low for even asking.

  “I’m not my sister’s keeper,” Bertie mumbled through a mouthful of bacon and eggs.

  Oscar sighed and gave it up as a bad job. At least he’d see her this afternoon.

  Once Bertie had devoured second helpings of breakfast, the two men set out for a ride. Oscar felt he’d go mad if he had to sit about waiting for Ella to return, so some fresh air to clear the cobwebs away seemed in order.

  They passed the church at Brasted and took the sloping path up the rise to higher ground. There was a little folly at the top with great views over the countryside and so they meandered at a leisurely pace.

  Oscar was lost in thought, so he startled a little when Bertie spoke to him.

  “I say, Oscar. Let’s not go this way, let’s take the lower road.”

  “What for?” Oscar asked, puzzled. “It’s twice as long and this way is far prettier, besides which it was your idea.”

  “Well, I’ve changed my mind,” Bertie said, sounding a little desperate.

  Oscar stared at him perplexed, until movement caught his eye, and his gaze was drawn to the folly. There were two figures there, the setting intimate and romantic and, for a moment, Oscar could only envy them… and then he realised.

  Ranleigh… with Ella.

  His stomach dropped, a wave of cold and dread and hurt sweeping over him. Anger rose too: a sudden burst of jealousy and rage so fierce that it winded him. He wanted nothing more than to cross the field and break Ranleigh’s bloody nose, and that was just for starters.

  Yet he didn’t. He couldn’t.

  Oscar had given Ella permission to take a lover. He’d told her she could live and love as she wanted, so long as she took care.

  He had no right to protest when she’d done as he’d suggested.

  Sick to his stomach, Oscar knew he had no one else to blame. It was all his own fault and, by God, wasn’t that just worst part of it all. Sweet Ella, who had loved him so devotedly, putting her trust in a man like Ranleigh, and there was damn all he could do about it.

  No. That wasn’t true. Ranleigh would have to be confronted, but not with Ella present. He had to make the man understand one thing: if he hurt Ella in any way, Oscar would kill him.

  “Oscar,” Bertie said, his voice low and too full of sympathy. “Oscar, I’m so sorry.”

  Oscar shook his head, appalled to discover his throat was thick with misery. “My fault,” he said, the words rough. “All my fault.”

  As he stared at the figures, sitting side by side, deep in conversation, Ella looked up. He could not decipher her expression from here, but she leapt to her feet, clearly horrified at being discovered. Ranleigh stood, too, laying a protective hand on her shoulder.

  That slight movement, that defensive gesture, cut Oscar to quick, as he knew it ought to have been his to make.

  Oscar stared at her for a long moment, a moment that seemed to stretch out over days and weeks and months… decades, every second of it reminding him of what he might have had.

  At last, he dropped his gaze and turned his horse towards home.

  Chapter 17

  “Wherein all is not what it seems.”

  Ranleigh had been waiting for Ella at the folly, though she was rather early herself.

  She felt a rush of gratitude for him not keeping her waiting. Her nerves were in tatters as it was. Every twig cracking and rustle in the undergrowth had her leaping with anxiety and looking over her shoulder. Good heavens, but however did people go about having affairs? It was enough to give one a breakdown. It just confirmed to her the impossibility of ever taking a lover. Even if Oscar didn’t care, she did, and if anyone else found out he’d be embarrassed at the very least. She couldn’t do that to him, or to herself.

  It all led her to one inevitable conclusion. If Oscar couldn’t love her, couldn’t commit to their marriage with a whole heart, then she would endure a lonely and loveless existence. Not that she’d expected anything else, even before they’d married, except then she’d at least had his friendship, and that had been something to rely upon. With that taken from her, she felt adrift.

  At the folly, Ranleigh stepped forward to help her down, his warm smile a balm to her leaping nerves.

  “Good morning, Duchess, and may I say how beautiful you look this morning?”

  Ella returned his smile, though she knew it was a poor effort. “I rather wish you wouldn’t,” she said ruefully. “I feel dreadful enough about meeting you here alone, only… only I need help, Ranleigh, and I can’t think who else to turn to. I know I could talk to Mintie, but she’s Oscar’s mother and—”

  Ranleigh reached out and took her hand. “There now, don’t get in such a
taking, love. I’ll do anything I can, you know that.”

  She nodded and allowed him to guide her to one of the stone benches that lined the folly.

  “Tell me,” he said, the words simple, but the action far harder to accomplish.

  Ella pressed the backs of her hands to her cheeks, feeling the blush rising before she’d even opened her mouth. She took a deep breath.

  “Oscar says he was wrong to leave, he… he wants us to try again, he says he has feelings for me, and he d-does desire me.”

  She dared a glance up at him to see him smiling at her, his eyes full of warmth.

  “Well, then. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  Ella gave him an uncertain smile, feeling tears prick at her eyes. “Yes,” she said, wishing it were that easy. “But I don’t believe him.”

  “Ah,” Ranleigh said. “Yes, I do see.”

  “How can he go away for a few weeks and then come back, and his feelings have changed so utterly? It isn’t possible, Ranleigh. You know it isn’t. Just because I dress better, and I’ve found my feet in society… how is that enough to make him feel so differently?”

  “Ella,” Ranleigh said.

  She felt he was choosing his words with care, and she could hardly complain at the intimacy of her given name in the circumstances.

  “Ella, I think Oscar has always cared very deeply for you, but it was him that needed to grow up, not you. He’s been indulged and feted his entire life; there’s never been a single thing that hasn’t been handed to him on a plate. Even his wife was chosen for him without him lifting a finger. Whether or not that made him happy is another matter, but he never fought his fate.”

  “So?” she demanded, staring up at him.

  Ranleigh sighed, crossing one long leg over the other. He stared out across the countryside before he turned back to look at her, his dark eyes warm and a little sad.

  “So, I think it took getting away from you and gaining some perspective to realise what he might have, and what he might lose.”

  “You believe he’s genuine?” Ella demanded, her foolish heart leaping as she wished she could pin her hopes on that alone.

  Ranleigh shrugged. “I believe he’s the biggest fool in Christendom if he isn’t.”

  Ella threw up her hands, frustrated. “That isn’t an answer, Ranleigh.”

  He gave a low chuckle and nodded. “Forgive me, and do you think you might call me Guy after all this time?”

  She let out a breath, feeling dejected, but nodded. “Of course, Guy.”

  “Come now,” he said, his voice low as he reached out a hand and lifted her chin, tilting her face to his. “None of that. You are captivating, Ella, take my word for it. No man alive could ignore you, or feel nothing in your presence. Not one with a pulse, at least. I don’t believe your husband is any different.”

  Ella snorted and folded her arms. “I think you are trying to make me feel better, you’re being kind, and I appreciate it, but—”

  “Kind?” Ranleigh interjected, cutting her off.

  He gave a bark of laughter and shook his head. “My poor little innocent. Surely you know my reputation? I am far from kind.”

  Ella looked up at him with affection and smiled at the indignation in his expression.

  “Liar,” she said softly.

  Ranleigh huffed and rolled his eyes to the heavens. When he spoke, the words were terse and rather hard.

  “You have no idea the temptation you present, you sweet fool. If not for my affection for Oscar and my debt of honour to his father, you’d eat those words, I promise you.”

  Ella laughed, knowing he desired her, but not believing him all the same. He was a good man. She threaded her arm in his and leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “How do I make him desire me?”

  The arm beneath her hand grew taut and she looked up to see an intense look in his eyes.

  “Just be yourself, Ella. He’s only flesh and blood.”

  “But how do I know if it… if it means more than just…?” She broke off, too unnerved to put it into words.

  Ranleigh looked down at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “You’ll know,” he said, his voice low. “Oscar is no liar. Ask him to tell you the truth. I don’t think he could look into your eyes and lie to you. I know I couldn’t,” he said, his voice utterly sincere. “And I’ve had a great deal more practice.”

  Ella sighed and nodded.

  “I should go,” she said, sitting up. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you so much for coming.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I have helped at all, but the pleasure was entirely mine,” Ranleigh said, something in his expression that told her he meant it.

  “Ella,” he added, and there was something in the tone of his voice that gave her pause. “I want you and Oscar to be happy. I hope you know that.”

  “Of course,” she said, smiling at him.

  “But,” he added, his gaze direct, “if things do not work out, if it gets to a point where there is no hope of reconciliation… I will still be here. Don’t forget that.”

  She felt her cheeks flame at his words, uncomfortable now and needing to be gone, but she nodded. “I know. I won’t forget.”

  Ranleigh nodded, apparently satisfied.

  Ella opened her mouth, about to bid him goodbye, and then looked up as voices across the field reached her ear. With horror, she recognised the two figures on horseback, both staring in their direction.

  She sprang to her feet with a cry of dismay, her hand covering her heart which felt as if it might beat out of her chest, it was thundering so.

  Ranleigh’s hand settled on her shoulder, keeping her in place when she might have run forward to explain herself.

  Oscar stared at her and, for a moment she thought, she could discern fury in his expression, but he was too distant to be sure, and then he turned away.

  “Oscar?” she said, the word too hopeless and pitiful to reach him.

  “Let him go, Ella,” Ranleigh said, his voice urgent. “I know you’re shocked, but this isn’t such a bad thing. It ought to make the situation very real to him.”

  “But it isn’t real!” Ella protested, the words choked. “And he didn’t even say anything!” she said, throwing up her hands. “You see now… you see how much he cares! He didn’t even bother to call you out.”

  A sob tore at her throat and try as she might the tears gathered in her eyes.

  “Ella, Ella, calm yourself, you bloodthirsty creature,” Ranleigh soothed, pulling her into his embrace now. She huffed a little and tried to wriggle away, recognising the amusement behind the words, but he held her fast.

  He put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  “He’ll come to find me, have no fear. He may even call me out, as you seem so eager for my blood, but he’ll not do it in front of you.”

  She gave a hiccoughing sob and looked up at him, fighting the urge to stamp her foot.

  “Oh, I don’t want to see either of you hurt, you absurd creature. I couldn’t bear it and well you know it.” She paused, blinking up at him. “You will tell him the truth, won’t you? You’ll explain everything?”

  “Oh, I will explain, certainly,” Ranleigh said, a thin smile at his mouth. “I promise you. I’ll make everything abundantly clear.”

  ***

  “What are you going to do?”

  Bertie’s voice was cautious, and they were almost home before he spoke at all.

  “Pay a visit to Ranleigh,” Oscar replied. “What else would you expect me to do?”

  There was no anger in his voice, only fatigue. He felt a hundred years old. Looking back on the past weeks, he could only see his own actions as those of a spoilt child. No doubt Ella would think he only wanted her now because he was jealous and, by God, he was jealous. That bitter, wrenching emotion seared beneath his skin and twisted his guts into a knot.

  “Will you call him out?”

  Oscar
shrugged. “I don’t know. I damn well want to but….” He cursed and shook his head. “Hell and damnation, Bertie, I gave her permission! So, what do I do now? How do I take it back? Tell me what to do, for the love of God, because I’m messing this up and I don’t know how to make it right.”

  He turned to his best friend to see pity shining in his eyes.

  “I wish I could,” Bertie replied.

  Oscar gave a mirthless laugh. “It doesn’t matter. I made this bloody mess, and now I must unmake it. I’m damned if I’ll walk away, though. Perhaps a better man would but… but Ella is a part of me, Bertie. I didn’t realise how deep she’d wriggled into my heart until I left. I can’t let her go, not without a fight at least.”

  “You’ll not be angry with her?” Bertie asked, as Oscar frowned at him.

  “How can I be?” Oscar demanded incredulously. “I told her I didn’t want her. What right do I have to be angry?”

  He fell silent, feeling sick to his stomach. Did she love Ranleigh? The man was handsome, wealthy, charming, and a known rake. A little innocent like Ella wouldn’t stand a chance in the face of such suave seduction. His stomach churned at the idea of Ella giving herself into his care, of Ranleigh’s hands on her skin. Oh God, he had to make this right.

  “Do you think she could forgive me?” he asked, Bertie, his voice low.

  “I’d have thought she could forgive you just about anything,” Bertie said, his smile a little crooked. “But that was before you left. You were a heroic, golden figure to her once, Oscar, but now she sees you’re just a man, flesh and blood like the rest of us poor mortals. I don’t think that’s such a bad thing, truth be told, but… you’ve got to be honest with her. If you lie to her, she’ll never trust you again.”

  Oscar nodded and drew his horse to halt at the road that led back to Chancery.

  “Where’s Ranleigh putting up?”